CHAPTER 9
“Annie,” Felty said, scooping himself another helping of Katie’s corn chowder. “You made Titus a Viking beanie and Katie a Minion scarf. Are they related somehow?”
Anna seemed to perk up her ears. “Well, Felty, they’re not related yet.”
“Vikings and Minions?” Adam’s mamm said, trying hard to follow the dinner conversation.
Anna smiled sweetly. “I meant Titus and Katie. They’re not related yet.”
Katie was too nervous to make sense of Anna’s remark. Of course she and Titus weren’t related. Maybe she was hearing things.
Steam rose from the hot roll when Adam’s dat split it in two and spread butter on it. “The minister mentioned the devil and his minions in a sermon not long ago. I think minions are evil helpers.”
“Jah,” Mamm said, “and I don’t think we need to say any more about that.”
Mamm was practically glowing with anticipation and looking at Adam’s parents as if they were direct descendants of Jakob Ammann, the founder of the Amish faith. Katie didn’t even have the energy to sit up straight. She felt as if she were fighting against a powerful current that threatened to pull her under and drown her. How had things gone so far awry?
She picked at her vegetable medley, barely listening to the conversation that no one cared whether or not she participated in. Mamm and Dat were gushing over every word that came out of Adam’s mouth. It was a lot of gushing, because Adam always had so many words.
Adam hadn’t even complained about the vegetables, even though the dish was a combination of broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, and onions swimming in a pool of melted homemade mozzarella cheese. His dat raved about it, so Adam kept his dislike for carrots to himself.
“The chowder isn’t as thick as I like it,” Adam said, “but it’s wonderful-gute, Katie.”
Mamm nodded so enthusiastically, a strand of hair came loose from her kapp. “Katie knows her chowders. She even makes clams tasty.”
Katie made a mental note. Next time, she’d have to work on making the chowder thicker, more to Adam’s liking.
Ach, she would have liked to wander out to the barn and sit with Titus while he lit crayons on fire, but she hadn’t seen him all day. His cousin Aden had come twice to milk the goats, and when Anna had asked about Titus, Aden had only told them that Titus was working on something big and had asked Aden to milk for him. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Titus was probably getting a few presents for his family, but Katie had been disappointed all the same.
No one understood Katie like Titus did. It was easy to talk to him, and she sensed his gute heart every time he smiled at her. Besides that, he looked so adorable with that toothpick he always had pressed between his teeth. What more could she want?
It didn’t matter, because she’d be back in Augusta in another week and wouldn’t see Titus again until she and Adam moved in with his parents after the wedding.
Oy, anyhow. She would suffocate if she let herself think about the wedding. Better not to turn blue in front of her future in-laws.
Katie gave up on her dinner when everyone else finished eating. She pulled herself from her chair and retrieved the triple chocolate cake from the fridge. Adam’s parents oohed and aahed over the cake, while Adam smiled as if he took credit for making it. She served everyone a generous slice except herself. She had no stomach for chocolate tonight. How could she, when Adam had taken Titus’s Chocolate Wonder and left Titus with nothing? She should have said something. Why had she been too chicken to say something?
“This is wonderful-gute cake, Katie,” Adam’s mamm said, licking her fork clean. “Next time you should make it with coconut-pecan frosting.”
Katie pressed her lips together. Adam hated coconut-pecan frosting. It would be impossible to please both her mother-in-law and her husband. She’d have to avoid the whole dilemma by never making triple chocolate cake again—that or make two different cakes for every get-together.
Adam ate two pieces of cake before he crinkled his napkin into a ball, tossed it onto his plate, and scooted his chair out from under the table. He held out his hand to her. “Katie, come here,” he said, with such confidence in his tone that Katie hopped to her feet and took his hand.
Her heart thumped inside her chest like a tense bunny rabbit. She wished she were anywhere but here. If she prayed hard enough, would Gotte have mercy on her and transport her to the barn with the goats? Adam gazed at her with something akin to love in his eyes.
She had thought she wanted Adam to propose to her. She had thought she didn’t want to be an old maid, but now, at the moment of truth, she didn’t know exactly what she wanted. Well . . . not exactly. She knew exactly what she didn’t want. And that was Adam. Adam made her long to be an old maid. She couldn’t marry him. She just couldn’t.
But how was she going to tell him that, with his parents and her parents leaning in with such eagerness?
Katie glanced at Anna. Titus’s mammi eyed Katie with a glint of exasperation dancing in her eyes. Katie couldn’t decipher what that look meant. All she knew was that the panic rose like bile in her throat. What was she going to do? What was she going to say?
Adam took both of Katie’s hands in his. She was going to throw up.
The front door crashed against the wall behind it as if a stiff wind had blown it open, and Titus Helmuth stood in the doorway wearing his Viking beanie and looking as fierce as if he were preparing for battle.
Katie thought her heart might stop. He looked so determined, so formidable. So handsome.
He took two adamant steps into the room. “Katie,” he said, the toothpick quivering on his lip, “You cannot marry Adam Wengerd.”
Her heart fluttered like a whole garden of butterflies and moths and spiders—nae, not spiders. Spiders were scary, and this was a much more pleasant feeling. “I . . . I can’t?”
Adam tightened his grip on Katie’s hands and stared daggers at Titus. “We’re in the middle of something important here, kid.”
Titus ignored Adam altogether. Always thoughtful of making sure the heat stayed inside, he closed the door behind him and swiped his battle beanie off his head. “Katie, I am . . . you are the girl . . . I need to tell you . . .” He frowned in frustration, pulled the toothpick from his mouth, and broke it into little pieces.
“Titus,” Adam said, more loudly this time. “You need to leave.”
Titus flung his broken toothpick to the floor and planted his feet. “Adam, you’re a real nice guy, but you’re a poem stealer, and I’ve lost all respect for you, symbolically, of course.”
Adam glanced at Katie and chuckled uncomfortably. “What are you talking about?”
Titus took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I have written another poem to tell you how I feel. I mean Katie, not Adam.”
Adam’s face turned as red as a Christmas bow. “Titus, you’re interrupting something very important.”
Katie pulled her hands from Adam’s grasp and took a step toward Titus. “I’d like to hear it.” She sounded mousy and small, but at least she’d gotten the words out. Her feelings were just as important as Adam’s.
Titus nodded as if preparing to deliver a sermon in church. “Oh, Katie dear, my heart beats fast whenever I can see you. We’ve gone on a few fun sleigh rides and even burned some goat poo. I know you came to Bonduel to marry Adam Wengerd, but from the very first day here, my faithful heart you have stirred. And so, although I know I am not worthy of your love, my heart will break in two unless you say you’ll be my wife.” Titus folded his paper, and for the first time since he’d stormed into the room, he looked unsure of himself. “I couldn’t think of a gute rhyme for love.”
“It wasn’t a very gute rhyme for Wengerd, either,” Adam muttered.
The room fell silent except for the sound of Katie’s heart thumping in her ears. Adam’s parents looked as if they were trying to catch flies in their open mouths. Her mamm’s eyes were as wide as peanut blossom cookies, and her dat’s eyes were as narrow as one of Titus’s toothpicks.
Only Anna and Felty seemed unruffled. Felty dished himself another piece of chocolate cake, and Anna smiled like she always did when Titus shared one of his poems. “That was lovely, Titus,” Anna said, lacing her fingers together.
Katie met eyes with Titus. His expression was so full of love and determination, she thought she might faint. Titus wanted to marry her, but until this moment, she hadn’t realized that she wanted to marry him, too. More than anything.
Adam looked from Katie to Titus. “Is this some kind of a joke? Because it’s not funny.” He was yelling by the time he said funny. He definitely didn’t sound amused.
“Jah,” his dat said. “What is going on here?” He slammed his hand against the table so hard, Katie jumped.
This was no time for smiles, but Katie couldn’t help it. Titus loved her and she loved him. “There’s . . . there’s been a change of plans.” She pursed her lips and gave Adam the look she used to scold her nephews. “Adam, it’s not nice to steal other people’s poems. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Adam’s face only got redder, as if he had a bad case of heat rash. “I didn’t steal. I borrowed. Titus didn’t mind.”
Titus puffed out his chest. “I’m sorry to have to say this, but he didn’t shovel the sidewalk, either.”
Katie’s mouth fell open. Thoroughly appalled, she turned on Adam. “I wouldn’t even consider marrying you now. Sorry, Mamm. Sorry, Dat, but Adam doesn’t like cooked carrots, chocolate sprinkles, or fudge with nuts.”
Mamm gasped as if she’d caught Adam smoking in the barn.
Dat’s face was as dark as a storm cloud. “That does change things yet.”
“Titus,” Adam yelled, “this is the most disgraceful—”
Titus must not have closed the door tightly. With a bang and a woosh of frigid air, Judea and Bethlehem crashed into the room as if they’d come to rescue Titus from a coyote. Judy had a new gold bow around her neck, and Beth wore a single jingle bell like a necklace—though why Katie noticed at a time like this was a mystery.
Titus’s eyebrows nearly flew off his face as he tried to grab Beth, then Judy, before they escaped his grasp. He wasn’t fast enough.
Katie’s mamm squealed and jumped onto her chair. Adam’s mamm snatched a towel from the fridge and snapped it in the goats’ direction.
Beth galloped around the kitchen and the great room as if she was looking for the nearest exit. Sparky, who had been asleep on the rug, sprang to her feet and vaulted onto the sofa, barking like the world was coming to an end.
Judy baaed her greeting and proceeded to lick Adam’s plate and eat his napkin.
“Shoo, shoo,” Katie’s mamm yelled as she snapped her towel in an effort to herd Judy out the door.
Dat grabbed on to Judy’s gold ribbon and held on tight, but Judy simply pulled him to his feet and led him around the great room with her.
“Get them out,” Adam shouted. “Mamm, throw me your towel.”
Beth put her head down and ran right at Adam. He held out his hands to catch her as if she were a ball, and she flattened him like a pancake.
“Help him up,” someone yelled, but there was so much confusion, Katie couldn’t tell who’d said it.
Titus stared at Katie as if he hadn’t noticed the chaos in the room. As if Judy wasn’t trying to jump up on the table for the cake and Beth wasn’t drinking water from Sparky’s bowl. Without taking her eyes from Titus, Katie glided breathlessly toward him. It was as if they were the only two people in the room.
“I liked your poem,” she said, just as Judy ran past and snatched it out of Titus’s fist with her teeth.
Titus didn’t even flinch. “I meant every word.”
Her heart kept rhythm with Sparky’s barking and Beth’s stomping. Would she ever breathe normally again? Not that she wanted to. She liked this giddy, oh-so-happy feeling she got being near Titus.
“Get a broom! Anna, do you have a broom?”
Titus took Katie’s hand. The tingle went all the way up her arm. He looked down and shuffled his feet. “My dat is selling me a piece of property not three miles from here. Mammi says I can keep the Christmas goats. Would you be ashamed to be married to a goat farmer who can’t do his fractions?”
“Think of the cheese we could make.”
“Samuel,” Mamm yelled, “be careful or you’ll knock over that shelf, and watch the knitting needles.”
Titus wrapped his arms all the way around Katie. Her knees got as wobbly as Jell-O. Gute thing he was holding on so tight. “Will you marry me, pretty Katie Gingerich?”
“I love cheese,” she whispered, her heart so full she thought it might burst.
“And I love potpies,” he whispered back.
He lowered his head and kissed her softly, making the bees and the butterflies and all sorts of creatures come to life inside her head. She had never been so happy. Oy, anyhow. His lips felt so gute. Good thing he’d thrown away his toothpick.
Titus pulled away and lifted a brow. “I hope I didn’t hurt Adam’s feelings.”
“Ach, he’ll be all right. I saw Martha Weaver making eyes at him at the school program last night.”
“I made eyes at you at the school program last night.”
Katie giggled. “I know. You gave me butterflies.”
Judy clip-clopped past them with strands of red, yellow, and brown yarn tangled up in her ears. Adam’s parents, Katie’s parents, and Adam were doing more running around than the goats and making a lot more noise. Felty sat at the table with his arm around Anna, eating his triple chocolate cake while his eyes sparkled with delight. Neither of them seemed to mind that two goats were making a mess of their house.
“Do you think we should tell them how to catch the goats?” Katie said.
Titus grinned sheepishly. “One more kiss first?”
This time she stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. He sort of lifted her off the ground, and his kiss made her feel like she was floating. Better than eating three pieces of Chocolate Wonder and a whole apple pie. If she’d known how gute it would feel, she would have kissed Titus a lot sooner.
Oh, sis yuscht, ach, du lieva, and oy, anyhow.
“Merry Christmas, Titus.”
“Merry Christmas, my dear Katie.”