Living in Harmony (29 page)

“About ready, dear heart?” he asked. True to form, a blush stained his freshly shaven cheeks from using an endearment.

“
Jah
, Nora and I will be out in two shakes of a goat's tail.” She offered her cheeriest smile. He had no way of knowing how much she'd loved their private dinner on the porch. Despite rather chilly temperatures, the sweet gesture had warmed her heart.

“We're taking two buggies so we won't be so crowded. Maybe Nora can ride with Thomas and Sally on the way home. I'll see what Thomas says.” He winked, blushed even deeper than before, and then disappeared down the steps.

That man is turning into a romantic after all.
Amy wiped down the countertops and swept breakfast crumbs into her dust pan, during which Nora still hadn't arrived downstairs. With a quick huff of exasperation, Amy called at the landing. “I'm taking my pies out,
schwester
, and then we're leaving. I suggest you come
now
if you wish to ride the three miles to the cookout.” She turned on her heel, grabbed the hamper, and marched out the door.

After climbing up next to John, she said, “Let's be off. But slowly, if you don't mind.”

John nodded with comprehension and released the brake. The wheels began to roll from the horse's prancing.

“Wait! I'm here.” They heard Nora before her head appeared at the side window. John pulled on the reins almost imperceptibly. “Please stop so I can climb up,” she pleaded, jogging alongside.

Amy offered her a hand along with a scolding. “You truly must learn self-discipline.”

“I'll work on that starting tomorrow.” Nora tugged her cloak closed and settled herself on the seat.

Amy remembered the second part of Nora's favorite expression—the part Nora added after their parents were no longer in earshot: “But everyone knows tomorrow never comes.” Amy decided not to share this tidbit with John as they enjoyed the warm fall sunshine and gorgeous display of foliage along the way.

But all was not silent in the buggy. John described some of the properties he recently visited. Apparently, real estate agents used expressions like “spacious,” “well-maintained,” or “contains excellent agricultural potential” when the exact opposite condition was the case. Amy laughed at a lean-to henhouse described as an outbuilding. Their lighthearted conversation screeched to an abrupt halt, however, when Nora's long cloak fell open to reveal a rose-hued dress. John pointed an accusatory finger at the garment. “Nora! I thought you understood that those colors aren't permitted here.”

Amy's earlier annoyance with her sister ratcheted up a notch. “I asked you to wear an everyday dress.”

Nora tugged the cloak closed. “Nothing was clean and pressed, and this is the most subtle one of the batch. We'll be outdoors all day. I'll keep my cloak on and closed. No one will notice, I promise.”

John shook the reins to keep up with Thomas's buggy and didn't speak to Nora for the rest of the trip.

Amy could tell he was clenching down on his back teeth by the set of his jaw. “See that they don't,” she said. “And the next time this happens, you'll climb out and walk back home.”

Nora folded her hands in her lap and pouted silently. Amy hated acting like their
mamm
, but she didn't see much alternative.

Once they were at the Stolls', she and Nora sat on the women's side for the singing, while John squeezed onto the bench opposite them. Sally and Thomas visited with district members who didn't wish to participate. With some relief, Amy noticed Lewis on the men's side. The handsome young man tried to get Nora's attention between songs, to no avail. If only she would agree to court him, perhaps her transition wouldn't be two steps forward followed by one step back. By the fourth song, Amy forgot the family melodrama and lost herself in hymns of praise. If only she could abandon herself this freely to God each day, all day, maybe her own life would smooth out. But once the last melody lifted toward heaven, Amy started wondering where Nora had gone.

“Ready for a glass of apple cider?” asked John, offering his elbow and a bright smile. “They put out snacks to stave off starvation until the pork is done.” He nodded toward a bounteously laden table.

“I don't know where Nora hurried off to.”

“She's a grown woman, not a toddler. Let's get something to eat and drink.”

Amy followed him to fix a plate of vegetables and dip, along with cheese and crackers. John located two about-to-marry couples, who eagerly shared their marriage counseling experiences while they nibbled. He hung on to every word they uttered to glean valuable advice. But Amy couldn't keep her mind on the conversation no matter how hard she tried. Unsettledness stirred beneath the cheese and crackers in her belly. “Excuse me a minute, John.
I wish to find my sister and refill my glass.” She smiled politely at her new friends.

“I'll fetch us more cider while you reassure yourself Nora hasn't fallen down a well.” He laughed easily, as did the other four.

“
Danki
. I'll be back soon.” Amy strode toward those clustered around the snack table but recognized no familiar face. She looked outdoors, where some young people were gathered around the roasting pit. No Nora. Next, Amy scanned the front porch, where a knot of women stood in a circle gossiping. Her sister wasn't among those interested in local news. She checked the bathroom, the kitchen, and then rechecked the buffet line. Panic began to intrude on her otherwise enjoyable afternoon. Finally, on a harried walk around the barn, she spotted the objectionable rose-colored dress near the pasture fence. Her sister had wandered far from the crowd after the singing concluded.

Amy thought Nora was alone until she spotted Elam Detweiler sitting on the fence in front of her. The two were chatting and laughing as though old friends. Amy blinked several times. Elam hadn't been at the singing, yet there he was perched on the top rail.
How did he know we were coming here? And where is Nora's cloak?
Her sister socialized in the brisk autumn air in a lightweight dress with a black apron as though it were a balmy July day. Amy took a few steps toward the pair and then hesitated. Thus far no one had noticed the rare appearance of Elam Detweiler or Nora's inappropriate outfit. Any scene she caused would certainly draw unwelcome attention.

“Amy? Come back inside,” called John from the doorway. “Sarah and William are talking about the farm they purchased on Waterville Road.”

She smiled, deliberating only a half minute longer. He was right. Nora was a grown woman, and Amy wasn't her mother. If the girl earned a chastisement from the bishop for wandering off unchaperoned, then so be it. Amy tucked a stray lock under her
kapp
and returned to John's side. She enjoyed getting to know the two engaged couples who were about their same age. Before long, Nora crept back into the barn with her full-length cloak covering her dress. She filled a glass of cider and walked to where Sally chatted with other young mothers.

Several English families wandered the Stolls' mown backyard as more continued to arrive, bringing side dishes or plates of cookies to share with their neighbors. The Stoll family seemed to be well-liked in the community among both the Amish and English. Younger children organized a game of dodgeball using a striped beach ball, while older youths played volleyball over the clothesline strung between house and barn. Men carried the roast pig to the paper-covered table for carving as Beth Stoll organized the buffet table into salads, hot dishes, platters of pork, and desserts at the far end. Nora chose Aden for her dinner companion, and she held Jeremiah while Sally ate supper.

When the sun dipped below the Dixmont hills, Amy and John joined those at the bonfire nibbling cookies, sipping cider, and counting stars that appeared one by one. Soon the sky was filled with a million diamond-bright points of light.

“More stars are here than back in Pennsylvania,” whispered John into her ear. They had found a quiet bench to sit on, close to others yet separate enough for private conversation.

Amy felt a rare sense of intimacy with the man she loved. “Another reason to like Maine,” she said, winking fondly.

“I'm hoping you like it here enough to start looking at farms. I narrowed them down to two or three I'd like you to see.” John placed his hands on his knees and appeared to hold his breath.

“I think I can tear myself away on Monday.” She leaned toward him—close enough to smell his spicy shaving soap, but she pulled away with the arrival of Thomas and Sally.

“I believe Aden is finally worn out.” Thomas carried his sleepy-eyed son on his shoulder. The boy clung to his father with a fistful
of shirt. Sally cradled a sleeping Jeremiah wrapped in a quilt in the crook of her arm.

“We're headed home. Three of us are tired, but I believe Sally could talk with the women until the rooster crows tomorrow.”

“I keep thinking of more things to say,” said Sally, beaming at Amy.

“Where's Nora?” asked Thomas, scanning the fireside crowd. “Is she riding home with us or staying longer with you?”

Amy arched her back like a startled barn cat. She hadn't seen Nora since they had eaten roast pork with all the trimmings. In fact, she hadn't even
thought
of her sister during the last hour. She jumped to her feet. “I'd better go look for her.”

John rose to his full height lazily. “Relax. She's probably taking a stroll with Lewis and his
schwestern
. You know he carries a torch for her.”

“I don't think so. Lewis is over there talking to Abe Stoll.” Thomas pointed a finger toward the woodpile. “It looks like Nora will be riding with you two.” He settled his son more comfortably on his shoulder and put his other arm around Sally. “See you at home. Don't tarry too long.”

John waited until they left before he muttered under his breath, “Confound your sister. Now she'll chatter the entire ride back.”

“I'll go find her.” Amy hurried toward the pasture—the last-seen lurking spot—but she didn't have to search for long. A flush-faced Nora stepped from the darkness near the phone shed. Her cloak hung open, and the hem of her dress was wet and muddy. “It's time to leave,” announced Amy, not hiding her irritation.

“I figured as much.” Nora sauntered past her in the direction of the buggies.

While John hitched up the horse and Amy retrieved her pie carriers from the buffet table, Nora rocked on her heels, looking oddly disoriented before she climbed into the backseat.
Maybe she'll fall asleep
, thought Amy, settling herself next to John.

Conversation during the ride home centered mainly on the succulent pork and variety of side dishes until John mentioned the unexpected presence of his brother. “Did you notice that Elam showed up?” he asked Amy. “He skulked in the shadows like a possum, trying to fix a plate of food without having to socialize with folks.” John laughed with little humor.

“I don't know about that,” said Nora. She leaned forward in between them to interject. “I spoke to your
bruder
, and he was downright conversational with me.”

Nora's having to voice a contrary opinion led to her undoing.

John's head recoiled with shock and disgust. “Have you been drinking? I smell beer on your breath.”

Nora blinked like an owl and retreated from close proximity. “How would you know what beer smells like?”

“I know. Never mind how, but I know, and I smell it distinctly on you.”

Amy turned around and stared at her sister. “Is it true? Were you drinking? I saw you off with Elam by the fence after the singing. And you were gone a long while after we ate supper.”

Nora shrunk against the bench back, partially hidden in darkness. She neither confirmed nor denied the allegation, but in the ensuing moments her silence spoke volumes. What had been an unseasonably warm fall evening turned chillier by the minute. For the remainder of the drive no one spoke. Amy's mind whirred with possible outcomes to Nora's misdeeds—and none of them were good.

When John stopped the buggy by the stone walkway, he unhitched the gelding with a stony expression. Nora climbed out and approached with downcast eyes. “John, I just wanted to say—”

“Save it,” he interrupted. “I don't want to hear another word from you. Just go to your room and stay there.”

Nora ran to the house and disappeared inside without a backward glance. Amy had never heard him speak like that before. It
was as though his heart was filled with hatred. She lifted her containers from the back and trudged up the path. Halfway to the side door she paused and glanced back. “Perhaps it would be best if you waited until morning to discuss this with Thomas so that cooler heads might prevail.”

John stepped into the moonlight, holding the horse's bridle. “No, Amy. If Thomas is still awake, I'll tell him tonight. You have coddled and babied your sister long enough. It's time she grew up and took responsibility for her actions.” He turned and stomped off toward the barn without bothering to offer a civil “
gut nacht.”