An Amish Christmas (21 page)

“Hart Jenkins was going to Cabo,” Will said. “He goes every year with his parents and his grandparents.”

“I’ve never heard of Cabo. Where is it?” Benjamin asked.

There was a momentary silence. “I don’t totally know where it
is,
” Will said as offhandedly as he could manage to cover his ignorance. “But it’s hot, and tons of people go there.”

“The people who stay home go to a lot of parties,” Lizzie put in. “That’s what I’d be doing if we were home. Will, remember last year, when Patricia Woods had to get her stomach pumped?”

“Oh, man, that was nuts.” Will sounded gleeful. His tone changed as he explained the situation to Benjamin. “She was a senior, but everybody heard about it, even in my school.”

Lizzie picked up the story. “The assistant principal’s son had a New Year’s Eve party because his parents were away. She got so drunk, she hurled all over their white couch. Then she said she felt better, so she drank some more. She totally passed out, and they had to take her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped. She almost
died
, no kidding. They said, like, another twenty minutes and that would have been it.

“People at the party were so freaked.” Lizzie’s voice rose slightly in her excitement to share the icing on the cake. “Her friends who drove her to the hospital actually left her outside the emergency room and took off. Left her right there on the ground.”

There was a pause as if they all were considering this display of concern for the unconscious girl.

“Whatever,” said Lizzie, sounding a bit chastised. “But don’t you want to get out and see more of the world?”

“I’ve seen some of it, at least some of this country,” Benjamin replied. “I traveled around.”

“Oh, man,” Will said, “why would you come back here if you didn’t have to? You don’t have anything here. It’s been so long since I’ve been on my computer, I’ll never catch up with what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Lizzie sneered. “Like what pathetic girl hooked up with your buddy Harry because he played her that insanely bad song.” Again an explanation for Benjamin’s sake. “This kid is in ninth grade, and he wrote this one pitiful song. He picks a girl and tells her he wrote it just for her. He can’t even, like, play the guitar, but he does this little serenade thing, and the girls fall for it every time. It’s so disgusting!”

“Come on,” said Will. “It’s pretty brilliant, you gotta admit. Or it was until enough girls found out about it. They really ganged up on him. None of them will even talk to him anymore.”

“Serves him right. I mean, they’re stupid, but at least they’re not
that
stupid,” Lizzie retorted. “But yeah, about not talking, I wonder what happened with Suki and Michelle.”

“You mean those skanky girls you hang out with, with the insanely straight hair? The ones with all those jangly bracelets and crap?” Will asked.

“They’re not skanky, and they have their hair straightened with this process that everybody does. It looks great, for your information.”

Will snorted. “If you say so.”

Lizzie deigned to continue. “The point is, they went on this hike together, and when they came back they weren’t speaking.
They won’t tell anybody what happened.” She paused. “I’m kind of happy I don’t have to deal with that anymore. Everybody had to take sides. It was hard, because we didn’t even know what they were so mad about. But it was getting really ugly.”

Meg leaned against the hallway wall. This was the first time she had heard any of these stories. It appears I know absolutely nothing about the lives my children have been leading, she thought.

Lizzie went on, her tone more reflective. “I have to admit, it’s been pretty great to be away from all that. It was totally getting to me. You guys here definitely don’t have the stress of the social stuff.”

“One thing is,” Will said, “it was kind of boring at home. I mean, everybody’s on the computer or their phone all the time, and you have to do that or you’re just out of things. I didn’t used to think that, but now I kinda do. At first I thought it was insanely boring here, but there’s really something to do all the time. I miss basketball, but you do lots of other sports and outside stuff. There’s nothing to do at home, ever.”

“Yeah, and I like the feeling of having done something you can see and touch, you know?” Lizzie added. “Maybe that sounds stupid. I mean, there’s way too much work here. It’s ridiculous. But it’s nice to
do
something. Does that make any sense?”

“It’s kind of like there’s nothing to do here
but
work and then get a little break,” Will reflected. “But when you get to play, it’s like you earned it.”

Meg was practically holding her breath, hanging on every word.

“So when do you decide what you’re going to do about leaving or not?” Lizzie asked.

As Benjamin spoke, Meg realized he had virtually no trace of the family accent—perhaps, she thought, because he had spent the most time living among outsiders.

“I liked a lot of what I saw while I was traveling. I had a bunch of jobs, met a lot of people. It was all really interesting. I love music, and I’m going to miss that. I also really liked driving a car, and TV and movies. And the computer, of course.”

His bed squeaked; Meg could tell he had stood up and was moving around the room.

“But it’s all the stuff you’re talking about. I met really nice people, but I saw that people can also be rotten. And lonely. And a lot of things I don’t like and don’t want to be. Besides, it would be really hard on my parents if I left. There’s also a girl here that I missed.” His tone turned severe. “You tell anybody about her, and you’ll be in big trouble.”

“Okay, okay,” Will said. “No problem.”

Benjamin went on. “So I’ve already decided that I’m coming back. After Christmas, I’ll go finish up some things, and then I’m moving back for good.”

Meg inhaled sharply. He had made up his mind. He was returning for good. She wanted to jump up and down with happiness for Catherine and David.

“Did you tell anybody yet?” Lizzie wanted to know.

“I’m waiting until after the wedding. It’s not a time to draw attention to myself.”

No, no, no, Meg implored him silently, it’s okay to draw attention to yourself this time. Don’t torture your parents anymore. Don’t torture
me
by making me keep that from them.

Will spoke with exaggerated seriousness. “Your secret’s safe with us.”

“Thank you, my man,” Benjamin said, laughing.

The three of them continued to talk, but Meg hurried down the hall to her own room. She was grateful for all she had learned from her eavesdropping. Thinking back on the many times she had told her children that it was absolutely wrong to eavesdrop, she fervently hoped they would never find out about it.

On the morning of the wedding itself, the atmosphere in the house turned more serious. Everyone left for a worship service at nine. It was expected to last about three hours, with the actual wedding vows taking place near the end. Meg felt an almost maternal thrill at seeing Barbara go off in her new white cape and apron over a dark-blue dress, the same color worn by the girls who were her attendants. Having been told that the bride and groom wore new clothes, Meg knew there were other differences from their regular Sunday clothes, but she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to discern the subtleties.

Other non-Amish friends of the families were among the invited guests; they had been asked to arrive at eleven o’clock, closer to when the wedding vows began. Much to the surprise of Meg and James, David and Catherine stayed at the house for
most of the morning as well. The Hobarts remained behind the entire time, helping others get ready to serve the luncheon meal. Just before guests were due to appear, they retreated to their rooms to change into whatever clothing they had with them that might be appropriate. None of them had packed anything resembling party clothes, but the casual clothes they did have, washed and neatly pressed, felt better suited to the occasion of cooking and serving.

All at once, it seemed, dozens of buggies pulled up to Joseph’s house, guests spilling out into the cold. As she retied her hair into a neat ponytail, Meg watched from her bedroom window. It was such an incredible sight, she thought, all those buggies pulled by horses, truly like stepping back in time. She noted a line of cars parked nearby as well, no doubt transporting the English guests.

“Okay,” James said, coming up behind her to glance out the window. “This is really going to be something. Let’s go.”

Meg turned to look at him. Gone was the furrowed brow she had seen for months, the pursed lips and angry expression. He appeared healthy and relaxed. She followed him out of the room.

“C’mon, everybody, let’s get going,” she called out to her children as she hurried down the stairs. They, too, had assignments for the day, from keeping water glasses filled to collecting dirty dishes. Grabbing their coats from the wall of hooks, she and James practically ran across to Joseph’s barn to reach the tented-off workspace containing the propane stoves.

Meg and James watched from what felt like backstage as Barbara and Moses took their places at the central location of
the
Eck
, the bride to the left of the groom, attendants and young relatives seated nearby. Girls and boys filed in, sitting apart. Today, Catherine had explained to Meg, the new couple’s aunts and uncles had the honor of tending to the needs of all those in this area of the reception.

Meg soaked up the sights and sounds. She was intrigued by the numerous vases and jars containing celery that ran down the length of the tables like floral centerpieces, apparently a long-standing tradition. Most guests hadn’t brought gifts to the wedding, but many of the English guests, or relatives from far away, had, and the presents were set aside in a small display; she noted the assortment of useful items ranging from roasting pans to a chain saw. Those working in the kitchens somehow knew the correct order in which a seemingly endless parade of food was to be presented, and Meg heaped hot food onto platter after platter, not just the chicken and bread stuffing dish but hams, ducks, the infamous mashed potatoes, creamed celery, noodles, salads, casseroles, pickled beets with eggs, coleslaw, bread and butter, fruit, pudding, and ice cream. She was stunned by the sheer number of cakes and sweets set out.

Toward the end of the meal, she couldn’t resist going to check on how her brownies and cookies were faring with the crowd—and was relieved to see that the guests had found room for them. Judging by the rate at which they disappeared, Meg noted, they must have met with everyone’s satisfaction. Abashed, she reminded herself that she was experiencing a decidedly un-Amish moment of pride.

The closest relatives, including David and Catherine, took their meal at a table in the kitchen. Teenagers and younger
guests were done first and then left the dining area. When all the guests had finished, it was two-thirty, time for an afternoon sing. Meg was pleased to recognize the doctor who had treated her and James the night they had arrived at the Lutzes’, and she went over to thank him again for his help. They talked while some of the adults attempted to round up the teenage guests from wherever they had scattered, although Meg could see many of them remained elusive, including her own. She noticed Sam standing with Aaron and another boy, but there was no sign of Lizzie or Will. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she should check on them, but first one and then another distraction drew her attention. When the singing got under way, she was glad for the opportunity to sit down. She knew she would be helping to serve another meal later in the day. Annie had explained that the younger guests would stay for supper and the celebration would continue until very late.

The day was progressing like a lovely, slow-moving dream. The sensation was shattered when she saw Will run into the barn, crying, blood smeared around a large cut on his chin. Wild-eyed, he looked around.

Meg jumped up and ran over, the people seated close to her turning to see what was wrong.

“Will, what is it?” Meg wrapped an arm around his shoulder, hustling him outside the barn, away from the guests, as she smoothed back his hair so she could get a better look at his injuries. “What happened? Where are you hurt?”

“It’s not me.” Will was crying harder, having difficulty getting out his words. “Amanda. I think she broke something.”

“What? What are you talking about? Where is she?” Meg
took his chin in her hand, forcing him to look her directly in the eyes. “Tell me.”

“It’s—It was stupid, and I’m really sorry.” Will wiped his running nose with his jacket sleeve, his face growing redder as the tears came in full force.

Meg’s voice rose. “Where is Amanda? Is she okay?”

“Lizzie’s with her back there, on the road.” He pointed in some general direction as he tried to catch his breath. “The buggy turned over. Going t-too fast. She can’t walk now.”

“
What?
Oh, Will, oh no!” Meg turned, grabbing his hand. “We have to get Catherine.”

“No, don’t tell her,” Will wailed. “She’ll be mad.”

Meg had already started running toward the tent where she had last seen Catherine. “Hurry.”

They found her talking with a group of women, but she broke away when she saw a frantic Meg approaching with her son in tow.

“Tell her,” Meg commanded Will as they got closer.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Will began, words tumbling out of his mouth. “The buggy fell over. Amanda got hurt, maybe broke her leg. Lizzie’s with her. They’re on the side of the road, it’s not far. But Amanda can’t walk at all.”

Catherine’s expression didn’t change. She nodded and quickly moved past them. “Come with me. You will show us.”

Meg kept Will off to the side, hoping they would be less disruptive, and watched Catherine make a beeline for a gray-haired non-Amish woman in a pale-green silk dress at one of the tables. Catherine bent over, whispered in her ear, and the woman rose to her feet, smiling and saying a few quick words to
the guests she had been seated with. The woman grabbed her coat and headed toward the exit with Catherine. Meg and Will hurried to catch up, and the four of them headed to a parked car.