CHAPTER
29
Leona was tickled to have Gloria help pin the clothes on the line while Mamma took her time redding up the kitchen indoors. “My family really enjoyed your omelets,” she told her friend. “You’re spoilin’ us.”
“I loved cooking on your mother’s gas range,” Gloria replied. “And your Dawdi was so cute, going on and on about how appeditlich the omelets were.”
“Well, they were tasty.”
Gloria removed a clothespin from between her lips and used it to pin the shoulder of one of Dat’s shirts. “He was always more talkative than your parents.”
Leona grimaced. “And a gut listener, too.”
“Not so easy to find,” Gloria said, leaning down for the next item in the laundry basket.
“You were always the best listener,” Leona added. “Honestly.”
Gloria made a face. “Before I, well . . . disappeared.”
“We’re past that, ain’t?”
“Jah . . . and at least you had someone to talk to.”
Leona smiled at Gloria’s use of jah. “Maggie’s probably been the person I turn to the most, but there have been a few times when Dawdi pestered me till I opened up. Guess he could tell something was up from my long face.”
Gloria laughed.
“Sure ain’t the same as sharin’ with you, though.” Leona wanted her to know that no one had replaced her friendship, not even Tom. “But then, no two friendships are alike. Tom’s somebody else I can share with . . . it’s a blessing to have a fiancé who cares so much.” She gave Gloria a sideways glance. “Do you feel that way about Darren, too?”
Gloria was solemn as she answered. “Darren’s a good guy, but I wouldn’t say we’ve built that kind of friendship yet. And he’s awfully perplexed now.” She explained that she intended to check her phone one last time today, then try to go unplugged for the duration of her stay.
This startled Leona. “Really?”
“I just want to be here and not so there, and if I’m on my phone, that won’t be the case. It’s just for a little while.”
“Well, maybe you should tell Darren and your parents first, so they don’t worry.”
“You’re right.” Gloria reached down for another shirt from the laundry basket. “You think of others first, Leona. I love that about you.”
Leona felt her face turn red as she kept working, hanging up her and Mamma’s clothes while Gloria pinned Dat’s shirts and britches on the line. The next batch of washing—Dawdi Benuel’s things—would be ready to hang out soon.
“Thanks for helpin’ with the laundry,” Leona said, changing the subject. “You really didn’t have to.”
“I need to keep busy.” Gloria’s voice wavered.
She nodded without speaking.
“This chore must seem time-consuming to you now,” Leona observed.
“An automatic washer does make everything easier. Put the detergent in, pile in the clothes, leave the room, and it still gets done. Real convenient.”
“Sounds like you’ve been ruined,” she joked.
“It’s hard to turn up your nose at modern conveniences. There are so many advantages. Surely you noticed that when you visited.” Gloria finished hanging up her basketful and came to help Leona with the rest of hers.
“Enough advantages, as ya say, to turn away from Plain living for good?”
“Of course,” Gloria said, her tone enthusiastic. Yet Leona noticed that not a speck of that confidence registered on her freckled face.
While sitting at a table outside a fast-food place, about to wolf down a cheeseburger, Tom spotted Orchard John.
Does he know Gloria’s visiting? Tom squeezed a plastic pouch of ketchup onto his burger, then did the same with two packets of mustard.
John reappeared in a few minutes, carrying a sack and a large fountain drink.
Tom waved him over. “Busy mornin’?”
“Typical Monday.” Orchard John took a seat across from him and bowed his head before he dug into his grilled-chicken sandwich and fries.
“Looks like you didn’t have time to pack your lunch, either.” Tom grinned. “Gut excuse to grab a burger.”
“Mamm offered to send some food along, but she’s got enough to do on Weschdaag.”
Tom nodded. “Not sure what people did before fast food.”
Orchard John agreed as he picked up several thick fries. “Did you take the usual way to work this mornin’?”
“I did, why?”
John shrugged and set his burger down to wipe his mouth with a paper napkin.
Tom studied him. “Did ya maybe think you saw Gloria Gingerich sittin’ on the old stone wall?”
“You saw her, too?” Orchard John asked, eyes popping.
“She drove Leona back all the way from Arkansas.”
“Why on earth?”
Tom took a drink of his iced tea. “Don’t know much ’bout it, but Leona was out visitin’ her for a few days,” he told his friend, “and now all of a sudden, Gloria’s decided to come here.”
John’s face lit up, and he looked like he might just take off flying. “Well, ain’t that the pig’s tail!”
“Just a warning, John. She’s not Amish anymore.”
John nodded. “Her hair was down when I spotted her, and it looked like she had on a running outfit.”
“I’ll be interested to see if she comes to Preaching service with Leona . . . if she’s staying that long.”
John seemed to be taking it all in. “’Tween you and me, I’d like to see her again, but . . .” His voice trailed off. “Not sure I oughta.”
Because you’re baptized, Tom thought, certain they were thinking along the same lines. He didn’t know what else to say; it was obvious Orchard John had not forgotten the pretty auburn-haired girl.
“Wouldn’t it be wunnerbaar if she’s comin’ back to the People?” Orchard John said, his voice lower.
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
“Jah,” Orchard John said. “But stranger things have happened.”
“Maybe you and Leona can help the Lord along.” Tom instantly wished he could take back the words—he didn’t want to encourage his friend to spend much time with an attractive former Amishwoman. Like walking on thin ice . . .
“Never told a soul, but I almost proposed to her before she left.”
“Almost?”
“Went to her house and everything . . . even tossed pebbles at her window.”
“And she didn’t come to see?”
Orchard John shook his head. “Her room was lit up behind the shade, too. Was so sure she was there.”
“Are ya certain you got the right window?” Tom asked. “Plenty of fellas have gotten the wrong one.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was Gloria’s.”
Tom could see the frustration on John’s face. “There’s always a chance she might not have been in her room,” he reassured him. “How many stones did ya throw?”
“I heard two hit the pane.”
Tom considered that. “Maybe it’s for the best. After all, Arkansas Joe would be a challenging father-in-law. Mighty friendly, but in other ways . . .”
“Like a stubborn child, jah?” John finished the sentence. “Digging in his heels.”
Tom stifled the urge to say more. No one really knows what goes on in a household, he thought. Besides, Orchard John didn’t need to know everything about Gloria’s errant father.
A moment of silence fell between them, and Orchard John looked to be lost in thought.
Best to change the subject.
After breakfast the next morning, Leona ironed pillowcases and her father’s for-good trousers while Gloria sat out in her car to charge up her phone yet again, even though she had sounded so sure yesterday about going unplugged.
“She’s entangled in the fancy world,” Mamma said as she wiped down the kitchen appliances. “Once the fancy grabs ya, it seldom lets go.”
“Sometimes it does,” Leona said, unwilling to give up hope so easily.
“Jah, sometimes,” her mother said. “She seems awful ferhoodled, poor girl. Kinda doubt she knows her own mind.” Mamma reached for a towel to dry the front of the refrigerator.
Mamma was right about that, but Leona didn’t want to reveal what Gloria had shared back in Arkansas. Nor did she want to talk about Darren Brockett. “S’pose Maggie’s ready to have me back at work this afternoon.”
“I’m sure.”
“When I’m done with ironing here and Gloria’s ready, we’re goin’ over to see the Millers.”
Mamma’s eyes blinked.
“Gloria wants to ask if they’ll let her look around inside her old home. Seems really bent on it.”
“Well . . . how ’bout that.” Mamma went to the sink and rinsed her cleaning rag, then wrung it out tight.
“I’ll wash the kitchen floor tomorrow mornin’,” Leona volunteered.
“By the way, did Deacon Ebersol ever say anything to you about my trip to Arkansas? I never got a chance to speak to him before I went. Tom planned to tell him ’bout it . . . I hope he did.”
“Might be wise to seek out the deacon yourself,” Mamma advised. “’Specially now that Gloria’s stayin’ with us for a bit.”
“I thought of that, too.”
“Don’t wait too long,” Mamma added, “or the grapevine will have it to him first.”
“I won’t.” Leona looked forward to asking for her future father-in-law’s wisdom regarding Gloria. Perhaps he knows a way to cut right to the heart of the matter. . . .