Several days later, Emma left the house on a cold but clear, breezy day. Supported by her cane, she carefully negotiated the stairs as Jacob walked closely and carefully behind her.
“Gut. You’re getting better at this! Just be careful on your lawn.” Moving to her good side, Jacob protectively held Emma’s arm. “Hmm, you also feel like you’ve lost quite a bit of weight.”
“That’s the best news, Jacob! I was finally able to stand on a scale and I’ve lost over thirty pounds! Just since I had my knee and weight loss surgeries!”
“Do you still crave large meals?”
“Nee, not them so much. I made the mistake of having some of my sister's meatloaf. It tasted gut...great...but the cramps had me in bed curled up and crying for almost an hour. Barbara was completely insulted. She thought I was faking it."
“Do you think she was...?”
“I know she was trying to slow my weight loss down. She tried to give me a whole roast beef sandwich right after I was allowed to eat solid foods. I never should have eaten the meatloaf, but I was tired, and everyone was staring at me. I thought just a taste but...she makes it with the breadcrumbs, ja. I should have said no. It was my fault—”
"Nee! She shouldn't have put you in that position." Fury washed over Jacob. He wanted Emma to be healthy, happy, and well enough for them to court properly. Emma's sister should have been her rock. Their strength. Instead, she was petty and cruel. Again. Jacob sighed. I’ll go talk to Ben on my way to my first appointment tomorrow. He has to know what she is doing and how it hurts Emma. Smiling at Emma and hoping it looked natural, he spoke. “Let’s focus on right now. What's your favorite flavor of yogurt?”
Emma grinned. “Strawberry banana. I have to do the light kind though. Do you think I can talk to my boss into finding some bakery desserts that would be good for weight loss surgery patients?”
“Ja, why not? It'll be good for her business too. Let’s go to the library this weekend and see if we can find any books about that.”
“Ja, let’s. Are we going to that salad place? I love it there!”
“Ja, we are! But remember you have to keep your portions small.”
“I will. I made a mistake a few weeks ago and I was so sick! I won’t be doing that again.”
From there, the conversation ranged to Emma’s plans to return to work—her therapist and doctor wanted her to wait for at least four more weeks. “I am so blessed that Elizabeth was so willing to hold my position open!”
“Is she making work modifications for you?”
“Ja. Dat took me to the bakery last week, actually, and that’s what we talked about. ‘You are my best baker and I want to do everything I can to make sure you are comfortable while you work,’ she told me. I’ll have a tall stool to sit on as I bake. She’s hired two girls to work permanently at the front counter so we bakers don’t have to split our time and attention.”
“That’s wunderbaar. I always thought she should do that. I know she was worried about having the money. Honestly, I think she was able to do so just because of how gut your cookies, cakes and pies taste.”
Emma blushed. She still wasn’t used to receiving spontaneous praise. “Denki. I have a question. Have you been back to your friend’s restaurant ever since he kicked those girls out?”
“Ja, and they haven’t been allowed back, although they keep trying.”
As it turned out, as Emma and Jacob walked in, the girl who had been responsible for bullying Emma on her first visit to the eatery was there, trying to convince the manager that she would behave. “Please! I love your food! I’ll behave and keep my thoughts to myself!”
“No. I told you. You and your friends harassed the friend of one of my best friends. I don’t put up with that from anyone.” Mark closed the restaurant door, keeping the college girl from entering. “Now, go.”
The girl, defeated, turned to leave. Seeing Jacob, in his plain clothing and Emma, in her now-better-fitting plain clothing approaching, she forgot her frantic, piecrust promise to Mark. “Ohh, well look who we have coming in! If it isn’t Fatty Amish girl! Cutie, I tried to tell you—if you dump that piece of lard, I’ll be a much better, much more beautiful girlfriend for you.”
Jacob didn’t normally lose his temper. As an even-tempered man, he could deal with a lot of rudeness. But this pushed him past his limit. “Excuse me! ‘Piece of lard?’ I am going to tell you something and you had better keep it in that nasty little mind of yours until the day you die.” Pushing his face close to the girl’s, Jacob pointed his finger right at her. “My girlfriend is much more beautiful and attractive to me than you can ever hope to be. She has a caring and loving heart. She is considerate. She is giving. Forgiving. All of which you aren’t even familiar with. Your heart is thinner than a toothpick. How could you make any man a better girlfriend than Emma? You have put your prejudice and hate in plain view for us to see, and it's ugly.
“Emma has set a goal and she is steadily working to accomplish that. The only goal you seem to have is dragging other people down. Now, go! I don’t ever want to see your made-up face, too-tight clothes and hateful attitude around us ever again. Go!” Moving swiftly away from the girl’s astonished face, Jacob swung an arm toward the sidewalk.
The college girl backed away as Jacob spoke, until her back bumped awkwardly into the door.
"I—"
"I said, leave."
She turned, pulling the door open frantically and ran, swaying on her too-high heels.
“Wow, Jacob! You get your dander on and you sent her cowering faster than I could have ever hoped to do! How are you? Come on in, you two!” Mark gripped Jacob and Emma’s upper arms, escorting them inside. “Jacob, because you did such a wonderful job in getting rid of that pesky girl, both of your meals are on the house. What will it be?”
Jacob looked at Emma, amazement and pleasure mixing in his eyes. “Well, I’ll have a regular-sized salad. Emma has to be very careful how much she eats. She had weight-loss surgery, so small quantities are pretty much what she’s limited to. Emma, salad? Or a bowl of hot soup?”
Emma considered for a few seconds. “How large is a bowl? I may need something smaller.”
Mark gestured with his hands, and then picked up a large soup bowl. “Do you need a cup? Here’s what our cups of soup look like.” He showed Emma a small cup with a handle. “If you’re having a beverage, crackers and a dessert, you should probably stick with this.”
“Ja, I think I’ll have soup. What do you have?”
“Chicken noodle with vegetables, vegetarian soup, and broccoli with cheese. Oh, and minestrone.”
“What is minestrone? That sounds—”
“Italian. It’s a meatless soup made with pasta shells, vegetables and a tomato base.”
“Pasta," Emma sighed. "I'll go with the vegetable. With hot tea, decaf, and some cucumber slices, please?”
“Let me show you where everything is. Jacob, will you be carrying her food as well?” Mark scooped up a tray, handing it to Jacob.
“Denki. Coffee for me, please. It is still cold out there.”
“I’ll bring the decaf tea and coffee to you.”
Emma placed her cape over the back of a chair and Jacob hooked his black hat over the back of his chair, marking the table as theirs. Emma ladled the soup into her cup and added a single packet of crackers to the tray.
“Would you like some garlic bread for your soup?”
"I can't."
"How about a side salad. With oil and vinegar. And chickpeas."
"That sounds wonderful, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to eat all of it."
"You can take what you don't want with you."
Sitting down, she closed her eyes in pleasure at the vibrant tastes of vegetables and tomato in her soup. “Mmm. Do you think your friend would give me the recipe for this? I want Mam to make it.”
Grinning, Jacob answered. “I’ll ask. There’s no harm. All he can say is nee. Turning, he waved Mark over. “Mark, Emma wants to know if you’d give her the recipe for your soup.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “That’s probably one of the best endorsements of my mother’s soup I’ve ever gotten. As long as you keep the recipe within your family, I’m happy to share it.”
Emma smiled, feeling happy. “Denki! While I can eat many foods, I do have to be careful about fat and salt content. Even though this is all vegetables, it is so delicious! I’m sure mam would love to add it to her list of foods.”
“I’ll bring it before you leave. How’s everything else?”
“Wunderbaar. I wanted to ask about the new low-carb desserts you’ve added to your menu. Is there any chance Emma could try one?” Jacob asked as the couple finished their entrees.
“Oh, sure! Emma, I have a local, non-Amish baker who is now sending tarts to my restaurant. I’d recommend the fruit cobbler, which has fresh fruit and a few crumbles. It's made non-fat, no sugar added with vegetable oil and yogurt."
“That sounds delicious!”
Seeing the small, delicate dessert, Emma’s mouth watered. Picking up her fork, she carefully speared at the fruit, and placing it in her mouth, she closed her eyes once again. “Oh my, this is absolutely wunderbaar!”
“Want the recipe for this as well? I don’t think he can help you with that.”
Emma’s face fell. “Maybe Mam and I can recreate it. It shouldn’t be that hard.”
“Probably not. How are your parents doing with their own weight loss?”
“That’s what’s so exciting! Dat has lost about twenty pounds and Mam maybe fifteen. Even Abby has lost some weight!”
Jacob grinned. “Your mam is going to have to make whole new wardrobes for all of you!”
Emma giggled, feeling uncharacteristically light-spirited. “Ja, she is! Until that happy day arrives, I’m just pinning my dresses so they fit me correctly.”
“That’s gut. What about your dat? How is he making sure he doesn’t lose his clothes in the fields?”
“Mam simply cuts clasps for his pants and moves them a little farther in. He hasn’t quite lost enough that she would have to take his pants apart and make them smaller for him.” Sensing something, Emma looked quickly over to the windows—she and Jacob were sitting closer to another wall. “Jacob, look! It’s that girl you yelled at earlier.” She tipped her head toward the large, bay window.
Jacob turned his head and looked directly at the girl. She had come back with her friends and they were pointing at Emma, gesturing something about her size. “I’ll be back.” Jacob went in search of Mark.
“Ah, no! Okay, I’m calling the police. You two stay out of it, okay?”
“Gladly.” He returned to their table. “Mark’s calling the police. I wish they would leave you alone!” He took her hand and held it, despite Emma’s efforts to pull back. “Nee, leave your hand in mine. I want to hold it.”
Emma flushed. “Jacob, what they are doing—I’m afraid this is what would happen in Lancaster if we made our relationship public right now.”
“I don’t care. I want to be with you."
"But they don't know how hard I'm working—"
"It's not their business what either of us do. They're worse than tourists."
Emma continued to shake her head. Her attention was again distracted as two tall police officers appeared at the window. “Look!”
Jacob had already spotted the officers. Placing his chin in his hand, he rested his elbow on the table, engrossed in the action taking place outside.
***
The shorter of the two officers was looking straight at the English girls. “What are you doing? I saw you pointing at someone and making weird gestures.”
“So, what? You mean we can’t be visiting with each other outside? That’s all we were doing.” The ringleader’s tone of voice was hard.
“Nah, I don’t think that’s what you were doing. You’d be looking at each other, not into the restaurant at someone. The owner called our dispatch center and filed a complaint. Looking at what you four were doing, I have to agree with him. You were singling out someone inside. Now, if you agree to leave, you’ll just get a warning. If you don’t agree to leave, we’ll be arresting you.” As he finished speaking, a second police car pulled up. “Ah, our reinforcements. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
The ringleader had never been refused anything in her life. She was angry and wasn’t acting cautiously. “Yes, we have—” Distracted by her friend, she leaned over. “No, Brittany, we’re not leaving. I don’t take no for an answer. Ever. Officer, we’re staying.”
The lead officer gestured with his eyes to the other three officers. Pulling handcuffs from his belt, he took the leader’s wrist and pulled it behind her back. “You’re under arrest for harassment.” Reading her Miranda rights to her, he finished cuffing her and led her to his cruiser. The remaining officers did the same to the three other girls in the gang.
Inside, Emma’s mouth had fallen open. She was shocked. “Jacob, will they stop harassing me now?”
Mark had stopped by their table. Kneeling down, he rested his elbows on the table. “Emma, the only way she’ll really stop is if you file for a restraining order. I don’t know if the Amish believe in such a thing, but once that girl and her friends get out of jail, they are going to be pi— uh...really upset. You might want to talk to your elders about that.”
“Can you file a restraining order instead, Mark?” Jacob was shaking his head. “There’s no way they’d approve of us using the English law system.”
“Yeah, since they keep trying to come into my restaurant, that probably makes more sense. In the meantime, you two are always welcome here.”
***
At home, Barbara had settled on how she would begin to undermine Emma’s credibility. She began by pretending to have changed her opinion about Emma’s weight loss efforts. Keeping this up for several weeks, she had managed to fool nearly everyone. Now, it was time for her to put the second part of her plan into action. We have Meeting Sunday this weekend. I’ll find a way of making it so Ben is alone with Emma.