Becky and I walked to church on Sunday morning. “Can we please avoid Hannah as much as possible?” she said. “I don’t want to hear how wonderful Esther’s wedding was.”
Fine by me.
I stepped over a pile of gray snow. “I thought you were over the fact that Isaac is married.”
“I am, but I still don’t want to hear about it.” She slid along the icy sidewalk like a child pretending to skate. I was only five years older than Becky, but sometimes I forgot how young she was. Having grown up Amish, she was much more naïve than other nineteen-year-olds I knew.
“I spoke with Tyler yesterday.”
“What did he say?”
“He will start working on the lease problem tomorrow.”
She looked crestfallen. “I’m still going to miss that house.”
“Me too.”
The church came into view. Because of the freezing temperature, no one stood outside waiting for the service to begin. The church’s snow-covered steeple appeared as if it had been cut from a postcard and carefully placed against the bright blue sky. Despite the cold, the sun shone. The bright winter sun and blue sky misled people into believing that nothing bad could happen in a place like Appleseed Creek. I knew better.
Becky slid to a stop. “Have you heard from your dad or Sabrina? Are they back from their trip?”
Her question made me stumble on the edge of the sidewalk. She put out a hand to steady me. The peace of the wintry scene vanished. “I haven’t heard from them and don’t expect to. I’m not sure when they are getting back. Sabrina doesn’t give me a detailed itinerary of their plans.”
“Do you think that they will ever visit you here?” She began skating again. “Will I meet them?”
I barked a laugh. “Not likely.”
She slid to a stop again. “Did I say something wrong?”
I forced a smile. “No.”
She frowned. “You never talk about them, and they’re your family. Don’t you miss them?”
“I do.”
“Then invite them to come here. I’m sure the children would love Ohio at Christmas. They will see snow.”
“Becky, it’s too complicated.” I shivered, imagining what my stepmother would think and say about Appleseed Creek. Surely, she would offend the entire town within the first fifteen minutes of her visit. “You have to understand that your family couldn’t be more different from mine.”
I hurried up the church’s steps speckled with rock salt, hoping that was the end of the conversation. A greeter opened the church door for us. “Good morning, ladies.”
We smiled and replied with our own good mornings.
Timothy and Danny sat in a pew toward the back of the sanctuary, and—surprise, surprise—Hannah and her minions sat in the pew behind them. As the opening music played, Hannah leaned over the pew, patting Timothy on the arm.
Becky pulled back and hissed. “We can’t sit over there. Hannah will talk about the wedding. It will be excruciating. She’ll tell me about every bite of food and what everyone wore. She’ll be sure to tell me what they said about me.”
I watched Hannah laugh at something Timothy said as if it were the funniest comment she’d ever heard. I took a step in that direction. What had Minerva said? I’d better make my feelings to Timothy known or someone else would snap him up. Hannah looked like she could snap really well—like an alligator.
Becky pulled my arm. “Chloe, please. I can’t bear to hear her go on and on about it.” Her large blue eyes were the size of ping-pong balls.
“Okay.” I followed Becky to the other side of the room. We sat next to an elderly man who was already asleep even though the sermon hadn’t begun.
Hannah tossed her dark hair over one shoulder and caught my eye. A catlike smile curled on her lips as she whispered to her two friends.
“It’s like watching church leaders huddle together before they shun someone,” Becky whispered.
I was thinking it was more like watching the three witches of Hamlet, but I suspected either of our cultural references would be appropriate.
Hannah tossed her hair again. If she weren’t careful, she’d hit the parishioner behind her in the eye. She, Kim, and Emily stood and moved to Timothy’s pew. Timothy shook his head and pointed to the seat next to him. Hannah pouted and shook her head. She scooted an inch closer to him. Timothy scooted away and bumped into Danny. Hannah pouted more and pointed at me. Timothy turned and we made eye contact. His eyes drooped, as if hurt. I opened my mouth, but he wouldn’t hear me unless I shouted across the sanctuary. Not a good idea.
Hannah turned Timothy’s head back to face her.
My stomach dropped. Maybe Minerva was right.
A few rows up from Timothy and Hannah, Beth Hilty, Hannah’s mother, turned all the way around in her pew to watch the exchange between her daughter and Timothy. A catlike smile, identical to her daughter’s, curled her mouth. As if she sensed my gaze, her head snapped in my direction, and her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t think she likes you,” Becky said under her breath.
The pastor began morning announcements, sparing me from a reply.
After church, Timothy and Becky had choir practice. They both signed up to sing in the Christmas cantata in a few weeks. I couldn’t hum a tune, so I walked home alone.
I kicked a pile of snow as I walked. Hannah was also in the choir, and no doubt she’d stay as close to Timothy as possible during practice.
As I climbed my porch steps, I heard a scraping sound. Startled, I dropped my house key on the porch. When I scooped it up, I found Abby standing in front of me. I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” She inched away from me to the far corner of the front porch.
I clutched the keys in my hand. “Okay.”
“Not now. I have to get back home. I was able to sneak away from services for a few minutes.”
I glanced up the street. No buggy. “How did you get here?”
“Don’t worry about that. I have to go. Will you meet me?”
“Why can’t you talk to me now?”
Her eyes skittered back and forth. “I can’t. I’ve been gone far too long already.”
I pursed my chapped lips. “Where and when would you like me to meet you?”
“Later today. Meet me at Appleseed Pond at one o’clock.” She retreated farther away to the side of the house.
I took a few steps after her. “Where is that?”
She held up her hand to stop me. “Not far. It’s a mile past Young’s on the same road. It’s in between my farm and the flea market. I’ll tell my parents I don’t feel well enough for afternoon church and meet you.” She disappeared around the side of the porch. I waited half a second and ran around to see where she had gone. I leaned over the porch railing and looked into the backyard, but I couldn’t see her. I blinked. Where did she go?
I reached into my pocket for my cell phone and called Timothy. Voice-mail. I called Becky next. That call went to voice-mail too. Practice wouldn’t be over until three. I sent them both text messages and hoped they would get them in time.