Fire in the Night (33 page)

“Hey, Sarah.” He smiled at her warmly, his white teeth illuminated by the brilliance of the headlights. Her knees went weak with a happiness beyond anything she had expected.

“Hi, Matthew.” What a wonderful way to begin this idyllic evening.

Matthew was talkative, entertaining her with vivid accounts of his job and the dinner he had cooked the evening before. Sarah smoothed back her hair and answered smartly, trying to be witty and worth his company.

She was disappointed when they arrived at Ervin and Katie’s house, having to share Matthew with everyone else. She didn’t let it show as she jumped gracefully off the buggy, politely helped him unhitch, and handed him the halter and neck rope before walking away.

She stopped, undecided now. Should she wait until he tied the horse? Should they enter as a couple? Did he want the crowd of young people to know he had brought her?

The wind whipped her lime green skirt, pulled at her hair, and tugged her covering away from the pins that were holding it. So she decided to move up to the porch at least, before her hair and covering were a complete wreck.

The door was flung open by a squealing Rose, who was in a high state of excitement from having just beaten that Lee Glick at a game of ping-pong. There was a spot of color on each of her cheeks, her smile was wide, her face already glowing.

Sarah always felt her confidence slip away the minute Rose was within sight. Like a ship tossed by one hard wave, Sarah was knocked off course, but she quickly righted herself. She regained her composure, ready to snap on her confidence and enjoy the evening, remembering that God had made her this way. God had endowed Rose with a more startling beauty, and it was acceptable, Sarah thought, remembering her mother’s kind words that to base confidence in beauty was like building a house on quicksand.

Quietly, Sarah entered the basement, led by her hostess, Katie, who followed behind the whirling Rose. She bent to say hello to those who were seated, but she entered the crowded, well-lit room without Matthew.

Lee Glick leaned against the paneled wall, his hands in his pockets, his dark, forest green shirt turning his complexion to an olive hue. He watched Sarah.

The grace with which she moved! Not very many girls could carry off this unconsciousness of themselves, an innocence born of a good upbringing. She was like a calm pool of water in a hidden corner of a forest—ethereal, transparent, cool, and untouched.

Chapter 24

T
HE BASEMENT WAS WELL LIT,
with propane gas lamps at both ends and battery-powered lights illuminating the two ping-pong tables. Groups of young men stood against the paneled walls waiting their turns to play, cheering or egging on the other players.

They wore brightly colored button-down shirts, some with stripes or a soft plaid, an occasional t-shirt showing beneath an open collar. And they wore black broadfall trousers with narrow waists and loose suspenders. If a mother complied with her son’s wishes, the waist of his trousers fit snugly to allow the exclusion of suspenders altogether.

There was Melvin, dressed in a shocking color of teal, his face red with exertion, doing his level best to “whip” everyone. His hair was beginning to show that gleam of scalp, a dead giveaway of balding. He was yelling much too loudly, moving with reckless abandon, evidently having a hard time “whipping.”

He didn’t see her arrive, so she sat down on the arm of a sofa, beside Rose, and watched. After numerous exertions of arms and legs, his face turned an alarming shade of red and he finally managed the game point, raising his paddle high, lifting his face, and yelling a shrill cry of victory before bowing low and then straightening and stomping both feet.

The girls found his display quite hilarious. Rose laughed loudest of all, which pleased Melvin so much that he repeated the whole procedure.

Sarah laughed out loud, helplessly. That Melvin. What an individual!

A girl Sarah had never seen placed a hand sideways across her mouth, giggled, leaned forward, and rolled her eyes at her companion, Arie Beiler, an older girl who had been in Sarah’s group of youth as long as she could remember. The new girl seemed to know Arie well, so Sarah wondered if she was the new schoolteacher Melvin had spoken of.

She was dark-haired, and wore glasses with heavy black frames, giving her an edgy, career-girl look. Her mouth was wide with full lips, her dress a charcoal gray, with shoes that were almost sandals but not quite. She was not thin, although she carried the excess poundage well, her hands large and capable, her shoulders wide.

Hmm, Sarah thought. An interesting character, this one.

Later in the evening, she made a point of introducing herself, shyly, but with so much curiosity, she had to carry it out.

“Hi. I’m Sarah Beiler. I should know you, likely, but I have no idea who you are.”

“Hi, Sarah. I know who you are. Minister Davey Beiler’s daughter, right?”

Sarah nodded, suddenly speechless.

“I’m Edna King from Dauphin County. They had a problem school, near Ronks, so they asked me to teach this year. This is my eleventh term. I do art classes as well—at different schools.”

Her eyes were bright with curiosity, her words spoken clearly, no humility in sight, so far as Sarah could tell, but she liked her immediately.

“Yes, I’m Davey’s daughter.”

No credentials, she thought wryly. No career, no boyfriend, not getting married, just Davey’s girl.

“You lost your little brother shortly after the fire, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s so awful. It must have been a hard, hard time.”

“It was.”

“You have my deepest sympathy.”

Sarah lowered her eyes, feeling a bit out of her league. This Edna was so well-spoken, so learned, so…so English. Sarah felt like some country bumpkin who could hardly speak.

“So, are you healing? Time does help the grieving process.”

“Oh, yes. We miss Mervin, especially these winter evenings. But he was so innocent, and he’s in a better place now.”

“Certainly. Oh, absolutely.”

“Winner’s pick!”

The call was from Lee Glick, who stood, tall, relaxed, his hair very blond, surveying the crowd, taking his time choosing someone to play. He was wearing a navy blue polo shirt, his shoulders pressing against the seams. Sarah turned her eyes away, to Matthew, who was slouched on a recliner laughing.

“Sarah?”

It was a question but a calm, assured one, sending a stab through her stomach, creating a tumultuous feeling near her heart, as if her ribs had closed in on its regularity. She looked up and acknowledged the warmth in his eyes, then rose to the challenge, moving fluidly, with unconscious grace. Taking up the red paddle, she smiled at him.

“I never played ping-pong with you. Are you any good?” His question was for her ears alone, and she blushed painfully.

“Of course.”

“Alright, then. Here we go.”

His serves were atrocious, but Sarah had played enough ping-pong with her older brothers to have acquired the skill of the return. Lee raised his eyebrows, whistled, and realized this was no ordinary girl playing ping-pong.

Lee was an extraordinary player, but so was Sarah. Mid-game, he put both hands on the table, palms down, leaned forward, and asked, “Where did you learn to play?”

“I have four older brothers, remember?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“They were, shall I say, exacting teachers. Mean, too!”

He laughed, his blue eyes sparkling, and she joined in.

At the end, she won by one point. The score had been tied at twenty, the youth mostly on their feet, cheering. Melvin was completely beside himself, the veins in his neck protruding to the point that Sarah thought he might pop one.

“I should have warned you, Lee. She’s a mean one.”

Lee laughed and shook his head, breathing hard. Sarah sank onto the sofa, shy now that the game was over, suddenly disliking the attention.

As if Matthew wanted to share the glory, he sat down beside her, his gaze never leaving her face, saying he’d play this next game. And because his eyes were so dark and compelling, and he was Matthew, the love of her entire life, she said of course she’d play. She got back on her feet and picked up the paddle.

As usual, Matthew was no contest. She beat him handily, without too much effort, but she knew Matthew wasn’t much interested in sports. He’d rather be cooking or reading, he always said.

She remembered sitting beside him in school, doing anything to gain his attention, even dropping a wad of crumpled paper in the aisle so she could bend over to retrieve it. But his nose was in yet another book, and she may as well not even have been there at all.

In the end, Matthew threw down the paddle, hard, and turned away with no further ado. All the spark left Sarah’s eyes, and her smile melted into trembling insecurity before she lowered her head and walked away, misery creeping into her eyes.

Lee had to clench his hands until the muscles rippled beneath his shirt to stop the anger, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Sarah, my love.

“Sarah! Pick me!” Edna King raced around the table, and Sarah’s face was filled with light again.

Lee’s hands unfolded, and he turned away casually, so that no one was aware of the intensity of his emotion.

The evening was ruined for Sarah, however. She had upset Matthew, so the snack that was set up on the side tables may as well have been sawdust and chicken bones as the dryness in her mouth created a sour despair.

Katie had decorated the table with a ping-pong theme using a green tablecloth with a ping-pong net dividing the food from the drinks. She stuck tiny plastic paddles into white icing on top of chocolate cupcakes, and dusted cookies formed in the shape of ping-pong balls with powdered sugar.

Sarah sipped disconsolately on a lemonade, her face a mirror of remorse, until Rose slipped an arm through hers. She leaned close and whispered, “Matthew was a poor sport.”

So. She had seen. How well Rose must know Matthew!

“It’s okay,” she muttered. Rose nodded then giggled when Melvin sat beside her. He leaned across and hissed, “Sarah, introduce me to the schoolteacher.”

Sarah examined Melvin’s red face and unkempt hair. She wanted to tell him to go outside, stand in the cold wind, cool off, and fix his hair. But what she said was, “Now?”

“Course.”

Ach
, Melvin. She cringed but stood and moved to touch Edna’s elbow.

“Edna, I want you to meet my cousin, Melvin. I think he lives just across the road from your school.”

Edna turned, her face alight with interest. Showing her good manners, she allowed herself to be led to the sofa, where Melvin reclined with Rose, in all his red-faced glory.

Thankfully, he stood and shook her hand, very politely. He didn’t hold Edna’s hand too long or too hard, and this is what he said: “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time. I often watch you play baseball with the children.”

Much to Sarah’s complete surprise, Edna seemed to lose all her composure. Her face changed color, and her well-modulated voice slid away into a stammering squeak.

“I…Yes. How are you?”

She blinked, adjusted her glasses, sniffed, and then, much to Sarah’s chagrin, lifted her apron, found a Kleenex, and blew her nose. Oh my goodness, Sarah thought.

Melvin must have found that whole display of discomfiture a pure delight. His eyes took on that light of familiarity, that cunning beam that was a prelude to a full show of every one of his charms. In his own eyes, Melvin would be the benevolent knight in shining armor, ready to rescue his damsel in distress, that lucky girl who would now be subject to his personality.

“I’m well, thank you! Your name, though?”

Edna may as well have been in the presence of a king, the way she became tongue tied, clearing her throat, stammering, and finally saying, “Edna. Edna King.”

“Edna? Oh, I love that name. It’s so different. Not many Ednas around. Too many Sarahs and Rebeccas and Suzies. Sorry, Sarah.”

Sarah punched his arm. Edna smiled and picked at her dress front, her nervousness only producing more confidence in Melvin, who went way overboard in his introductions. He told Edna his great-great-grandfather was a blacksmith from Switzerland, and Sarah figured it was another one of his stretched truths, feeding off his heightened emotions, laid out for the sole purpose of impressing the worldly Edna King.

She was led away by Matthew, then, who said he was ready to leave, as it was getting late, and they had church tomorrow.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Sarah said goodbye to Melvin and told Edna it was a pleasure to meet her. She hurried up the stairs for her coat and purse, thinking she had to dig up enough nerve to help Melvin with his shirts.

Who in the world made those shirts? He’d look so much better in store-bought ones. He always picked a fabric and color that would be truly lovely stitched into a dress for a girl. And with that Edna! Now she had good taste. Understated, but classy. Not out of the
ordnung
, she dressed respectfully, but…well, differently.

Why were her thoughts carefully assessing Melvin now? She wondered at this, as she located her purse and shrugged into her coat.