Eunice didn’t expect to hear from Zeb until Wednesday at the earliest, since that was their first tour of the week. So she was super surprised when he walked into The Stitch & Skein around lunchtime on Tuesday.
“Zeb, what are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d pick up some yarn.”
He said it so casually that she couldn’t help laughing.
“Didn’t take you for a knitter, but okay. Can I help you pick something out?”
Zeb jerked his head toward the opposite side of the store. She followed him and couldn’t help quipping, “Didn’t realize organic yarn was your thing.”
“Huh?”
She pointed to the organic merino wool sign and the display beneath it.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Which is fine, since you’re not a knitter. Why are you here?”
“To ask you out.”
Eunice had been straightening the red organic merino yarn, but her hands froze, her mind froze, at Zeb’s words. She turned to face him, to see if he was serious.
“I know that’s not what you asked for. You asked for a list of names.”
“Ya.”
“Samuel said I should give you a piece of paper with my name on it, but that sounded kind of corny.”
“Samuel said that?”
“Josh was even in on it. Saying kissing was gross, but since Ada was taken I should ask you...” His words slowed and trickled to an end with, “Or something like that.”
“You’re asking me to go out on a date? With you?”
He’d been reaching out to touch a skein of yarn, but he jerked his hand back, stuck it in his pocket and stood up straighter. “I am, Eunice. I’d like to take you out later this week. If that works for you.”
Did it work for her?
Did she want to date Zeb?
“I suspect you’re thinking the same thing I am,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
“We could be messing up a good friendship, a friendship that’s important to both of us. But...” He shook his head. “Something about this feels right. Don’t you think? And if I’m wrong, then we’ll go back to the way we’ve been.”
“Huh.”
“Is that a yes?”
And suddenly she could hear Ada’s voice. See her smile, crocodile. Ada’s misquotes and Ada’s sweet heart. Maybe Ada had been right all along. Maybe Eunice had been taking life, taking everything entirely too seriously.
She pushed any reservations or questions away, and she said what her heart told her to say. “Yes.”
“Tomorrow after the tour? I already checked with Becca and she said she wouldn’t mind keeping Josh a few extra hours.”
“You spoke with Becca?”
Zeb nodded. “Wanted to have my ducks in a row.”
“Okay. Tomorrow after the tour then. Where are we going?”
Zeb smiled, and it was the first genuine smile she’d seen from her friend in a very long time. “I’ll figure something out.”
Eunice wasn’t a very good employee at the shop after that. She stocked cotton yarn in the wool section, refilled an entire display of craft books upside down and charged a customer $112.49 instead of $12.49.
“That would be quite expensive yarn.” The customer laughed good-humoredly as Myra rushed over to help her correct the error.
When they were alone again in the shop, Myra turned to her and said, “You’ve got the lovebug.”
“What?”
“You heard me. It’s all over your face.” Myra held up her hands and made circles in the air—as if she were washing a window. “Love struck.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Okay. If you say so. But something changed when that nice young man came in and asked you out.”
“You heard that?”
“Small shop. I couldn’t help but hear.”
“I’m sorry I’m so distracted.” Eunice pressed her palms to her cheeks. She needed a cold rag. She felt as if her face were on fire.
Myra patted her shoulder. “There, there.” She actually said those words. Had anyone ever said there, there to Eunice before?
“Why don’t you take off early today? Maybe take a little drive. The weather’s cleared. It’s a beautiful crisp, cool, autumn day.”
“But I still haven’t—”
“We’ll take care of those things tomorrow. Go on, now. Get your purse. Are you okay to drive the buggy?”
“Of course I’m okay to drive the buggy. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Go home. Have a little rest. Maybe take a walk. Walks are good for the lovelorn.”
“But I’m not—”
“Yup. So you say.” Myra walked her through the storeroom. As Eunice was leaving out the back door, Myra pulled her into a hug. “I know it’s all confusing, dear. But falling in lieb is wunderbaar. For many people it only happens once in a lifetime. Try to enjoy it.”
Eunice walked over to her buggy in something of a daze. She spoke to the mare. “How about a drive, Peanut?” And she did feel better once the cool air was on her face and the sound of Peanut’s clip-clop filled the afternoon.
She didn’t realize where she was going until she pulled into Sarah’s drive. Her husband, Noah, had served time in an Illinois state prison. He was a new man now, and he loved Sarah so much that it sometimes hurt Eunice to watch the two of them together. Sarah and Noah had moved in with his parents. Though the house was small and the acreage enough for a single man to work alone, they’d wanted to be together.
Noah’s parents had missed him terribly the years he’d been in Illinois. When Noah and Sarah had married, Eunice hadn’t been able to imagine Sarah living anywhere but their home. Now, though, as she pulled up to the house and saw Sarah hanging clothes on the line, she knew that this was where Sarah belonged.
How did something like that happen?
How did a life take a completely different direction?
And was it possible for her?
She helped hang the laundry, and then they took a long walk. Sarah listened to her worries and her fears and her hopes. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t correct. She listened. Eunice’s oldest schweschder had always been a very gut listener.
By the time they were back at the house, Noah’s mamm, Rachel, was sitting on the front porch with three glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. They sat in the rockers enjoying the fall weather. Sarah told the story of her first date with Noah, back before she’d really known anything about him. Back when Noah was afraid to reveal his past.
Rachel told them that she’d met Reuben, Noah’s dat, at a work day. He’d come over from Middlebury to help with a barn raising. “It was love at first sight,” she admitted. “And I didn’t believe in such a thing.”
It helped Eunice to hear these women’s stories. It helped to know that it was normal to feel confused and scared and excited all at the same time.
But what carried her through the next twenty-four hours was Sarah’s words as they were walking over to the buggy. Sarah looped her arm through Eunice’s. “Zeb is a gut friend to you, Eunice. And he might be more. But if this doesn’t work out, you’ll still be friends.”
“Can you promise me that?”
“Ya. I can, actually. It might be awkward at first. You might blush or feel silly around one another, but then that will pass. You and Zeb will always be friends. Gotte put you in this place, here in our little Shipshe, at the same time so that you could support one another. Whether or not that friendship turns into something else...” She pulled Eunice into a hug. “Time will tell.”
What Sarah said was something that Eunice could believe because she wanted with all of her heart for it to be true.
Zeb thought he’d be nervous. It had been a long time since he’d been alone with a woman. But this was Eunice. After going over his options for afternoon dates with Samuel, he’d called and left a message for Eunice to dress comfortably.
But when he arrived at the Yoder farm with the tour guests, he couldn’t tell that she’d worn an older dress. Eunice looked nice in whatever she had on. He’d once seen her in a pair of overalls that she’d picked up at a thrift store. They were just out of school then—only fourteen years old. Eunice had been trying to take apart the engine of an old Ford pickup that someone had towed to her place. When he’d stopped by, she’d been covered with grease and determined to make that old Ford run again. She’d been successful too, though soon after she’d decided that her talent was more for small engines.
She looked every bit as lovely today as she had then.
The tour went well. The guests laughed at Eunice’s jokes, had plenty of questions for her, and enjoyed Becca’s afternoon snack—which included Sarah’s new blend of granola. Nearly every guest purchased at least one quart jar of it, and many purchased several.
Once the Englischers had piled back into Martin’s retrofitted school bus, Becca shooed them away.
“Go, go on your date. Josh and Mary are playing Connect 4. He’ll be fine here.”
So they’d gone. Zeb felt like a teenager sneaking out after dark. He felt as if he was getting away with something. In fact, what he was doing was claiming a few hours of the day for himself. When was the last time he’d done that?
He and Eunice chatted about the tourists, the upcoming holiday and the Christmas parade, which was in a couple of days. The parade was always held on the Friday before Thanksgiving. He could tell that it was one of Eunice’s favorite Shipshe celebrations. She described the lights, the food, even the music.
“It’s grown a little since we were youngies.”
“I was here last year, you know.”
“You were here, but you weren’t—” She stopped, apparently at a loss of words.
“I know what you mean. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if there’d been a giraffe pulling Santa’s sleigh.” All he could really remember of the previous year was an overwhelming sense of darkness. He still felt it, at times, but it no longer seemed to cover every moment of every day. “Josh remembers last year’s parade. I think my parents went with us. He’s been talking about it all week. He especially loves how the houses and businesses on the route turn off their lights.”
“Makes the candles and flashlights everyone is holding seem like stars in the sky.”
“Exactly.”
When he pulled into the parking lot for The Cove, Eunice looked at him in surprise. “We’re going to play volleyball?”
“Not exactly.”
Stopping at Shipshe’s community center had been Samuel’s idea. The building was mainly a youth center, but Samuel had assured him that there wasn’t a definitive age limit. The facility itself had been built in 2015. All necessary costs were covered by donations. The area’s three thousand Amish youngies played volleyball, basketball, chess, cornhole and more recently—pickleball.
Samuel had insisted it would make for a great first date. He’d assured him that pickleball would be simple to learn to play and claimed it would help with their nerves. The Cove had eight pickleball courts, and six of them were open. Eunice and Zeb took the court farthest away from the other players, in case their balls went wild. There were pickleball rules posted on the wall next to the court.
Eunice studied the rules sheet. “Let’s see. ‘Stay out of the kitchen.’”
“Where’s the kitchen?” Zeb squinted at the photograph, then peered over at their court.
“It’s this part.” Eunice tapped the rules sheet, trying not to laugh. “The part near the net. The non-volley zone. You can’t go there.”
“Oh. Okay.” Zeb was already itching to get on the court. He used to love to play badminton and he’d even played a little tennis. This looked like a combination of the two. “We play to eleven. Have to win by two.”
“Looks like a tennis court,” Eunice noted.
“Yeah. Balls and racquets are different though.”
“Paddles.” Eunice gave him a challenging grin. “Let’s just give it a try. How bad can we be?”
Turned out they were pretty bad. Zeb kept forgetting and trying to serve as if he were playing tennis, which didn’t work well at all. Twice Eunice hit the ball before it bounced, which caused Zeb to laugh out loud and claim the point. They dove and ran and lunged and laughed. Zeb was surprised when the courts around them started filling up.
“We’ve been at it an hour,” Eunice said. “That’s more exercise than chasing my nieces and nephews.”
They gave up their court to a group of four that looked barely old enough to be out of school.
“Should have watched some others before we tried to play.”
“Bested by someone ten years younger?” Eunice shook her head in mock wonder. “Who would have thought it possible?”
“It doesn’t seem like we played for an hour.”
“Time literally flew by while I was chasing a wiffle ball.”
“Did you enjoy it?” Zeb asked.
“I did. You?”
“Yup. Stopped my brain for a few minutes.”
“That’s a gut thing?”
“Yes. Apparently, I overthink things.”
They stopped at the Blue Gate Restaurant for pie and coffee.
“I don’t come in here very often,” Eunice admitted.
“Same.”
“It’s very nice.”
“It is.”
“And this pie.” Eunice leaned forward waving a forkful of fresh strawberry at him. “It might be better than Sarah’s, but don’t tell her I said so.”
He leaned toward her, Eunice gave up the piece of pie, and as she plopped it in his mouth their eyes met. Something inside of Zeb came unbound in that moment. Some emotion that he hadn’t let himself feel, hadn’t let himself even think about, and now he was flooded by it.
Appreciation? Fondness? Love?
He couldn’t love Eunice Yoder. They’d been on one date. Of course, he’d known her all his life. And Eunice had been there for him since the day he’d returned to Shipshe. Even when he’d been rude and blamed her for Josh’s accident.
The question was, did he want her to be more?
As they walked back to the buggy, it occurred to Zeb that this was like the old days. It felt natural to be with Eunice. She was a gut friend. How was this even a date? He was simply hanging out with someone that he liked. There was no need to make it into something that it wasn’t.
But then Eunice stopped to pick up a golden leaf that had fallen next to his buggy. She held it up for him to see, a smile lighting up her face. Zeb had carefully planned the date, if that was what this was. He’d taken Samuel’s advice, picked something active and then taken Eunice to a nice place for a snack.
“Not dinner,” Samuel had said. “Dinner is serious and comes with a lot of pressure. Neither of you need that.”
What he and Samuel had decided on had been the right thing. The plan had gone beautifully. But what he did next wasn’t in the plan. Eunice stepped closer, the smile still dancing in her eyes, as she held the leaf out for him to examine.
But he wasn’t looking at the maple leaf.
He was looking at Eunice and seeing her in a new light. He stepped closer, lowered his head and kissed her softly. When he stepped back, she remained where she was. Had he messed up?
The smile returned, and she laughed softly.
“What?”
“Never figured you for a good kisser.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Just saying.”
On the ride home, he didn’t have to sneak a peek one time at the topics he’d written on the palm of his hand. They talked about their childhood memories that centered around the upcoming holidays, how he planned to celebrate with Josh, how the Yoder house would be filled with grandkinner.
“This was nice,” Eunice said, as they walked up Becca’s front porch steps.
“Care to repeat today’s experiment?”
“Another game of pickleball?”
“Actually, I thought maybe you’d enjoy going to the Christmas parade with me and Joshua.”
She tilted her head and studied him. He thought maybe she was trying to see if he was ready for this. But he was ready. He reached for her hand, squeezed it, and Eunice said softly, “Yes. I’d like that.”
On the ride home, Josh was too busy telling him about a game he and Mary had made up—it centered around a fort they’d built in the hall, an inside game of tag and snack time.
“It was like the Olympics, in a way.”
“What do you know about the Olympics, son?”
“Well. Not much. But isn’t there a sport where they do several things at once?”
“Do you mean the pentathlon?” Zeb wondered where in the world Josh would have heard about that. “It’s several separate events, including fencing, swimming and equestrian.”
“Right. I think Old Tom was watching a YouTube video on his phone about it, while he was waiting for the tour people to come out of Becca’s house one day.”
“Hmm.”
“Our game was like that but different. You had to make your way through the tunnel. That was the fort. Then run outside, touch the porch railing, run back inside to the table where you sit and eat your snack without spilling anything. And finally you end up back at the beginning of the tunnel. It was fun, Dat. We should try it at home.”
Zeb reached over and tussled Josh’s hair. The boy’s laughter was soft, joyful, natural. And why wouldn’t it be? He’d spent an afternoon playing with his friend. He’d enjoyed being a boy and not worrying about adult things.
Pulling into their lane, their conversation turned to dinner and winter and how much snow it took to build a snowman. Together they unharnessed Beauty from the buggy, groomed her and fed her. When they were walking to the house, Josh asked, “So are you going to ask Eunice out on another date?”
The question caught Zeb by surprise.
He’d thought maybe his son had forgotten where he’d gone that afternoon. But Josh was observant, and now he was watching his dat closely.
“Actually, we are going out again.”
“Oh. That’s cool. So I’ll go back and play with Mary?”
“Nope. You and me and Eunice are going to the Christmas parade together.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Zeb slapped Josh’s upheld palm.
Josh ran inside to share the news with Samuel. At dinner, Zeb told them about the pickleball game, which was even funnier in the retelling.
“Sounds like I should go with you next time, bruder. The game isn’t that hard. You just need someone who has played it before.”
“All right. If you can find a date.”
To which, Samuel laughed and said, “Not a problem.”
As Zeb wrote in his journal that night, he realized that he was feeling something he hadn’t felt since before Suzanne’s illness. He was feeling joy. Happiness. Hope. The question was whether he dared to believe it might last.