For Sure & Certain (7 page)

“Did he ask you to call?”

“Not in as many words, but Mom was more clear. She’s worried about him, Abel, we all are.”

“You shouldn’t worry, you have enough on your plate with the baby coming and the farm.” Eli worked for his wife Sarah’s family, and planned on taking over when her father retired.

“Ja, and I know nothing about the sheep, not besides feeding the ewes.”

“Ack, I don’t want to be a burden.” Abel should have prepared himself for a phone call like this, but he hadn’t, and now his plans were going to change to accommodate his family. His selfish ambition tore at him; it shouldn’t be so hard to want to help the people you love. But it wasn’t his first nature, it never had been.

“It is a burden though. Even with the hired hands here this weekend, Dad needs his son. He needs you.”

“I can come Friday after class. I’ll be there.”

“That’s right gud, it will give Dad relief.” Eli paused. “There’s another thing Mom asked about, but I know it’s not business, so maybe we should wait to talk this weekend.”

“Just say it, Eli, you know you’re gonna.”

“Esther’s moved to Ohio, to stay with her cousin. She up and left last week, your sister is a mess over losing her dear friend. Apparently word is you and her are over? But how can that be?”

“Tis true.”

“But I thought you and her were making plans, planting celery come spring.”

“Nah, I ended it before I came to school, it wouldn’t be right of me to string her along. I wish her well, she’s right good, just not right good for me.” He’d never wanted to plant celery, the Amish tradition to symbolize an upcoming marriage. Not with Esther, and especially not anytime soon.

He heard the disappointed breath of his brother through the line, and it hit him in the gut.

“Alright, I’ll tell Mom. Friday then?”

“Ja, I’ll see you soon, Eli.”

chapter four

Marigold

Tuesday afternoon Marigold’s phone rang on her bus ride home. She’d gone to a mall about thirty minutes outside of town and spent the morning dropping off applications. With zero prospects. Nearly everyone had already hired for the summer, which made sense. Most people don’t wait until summer is up and running to look for a job. And the few places that had openings weren’t interested in hiring a girl with no experience for a full-time position.

Stepping off the bus, she held the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she asked, not recognizing the number.

“It’s Abel, from the other day?”

A smile spread on her face.

He called.

Twenty minutes later they met up at a coffee shop on campus, this one was Marigold’s favorite. It was one of the few places she could hang out in the neighborhood without getting the stink eye. She ordered them chai latte’s, and the frothy milk was in mugs on the coffee table in front of her.

“It’s a right good place, Marigold,” Abel said, striding into the cafe, wearing a hat and suspenders, plopping down on a couch next to her, moving a pillow out of the way. “It’s like a living room, only not. You should get a job here.”

“I can’t, I’m not a student here. But it is one of my favorite places to hang out.”

“A favorite place?”

“Well, I also love the cemetery at Jamestown, there is a wishing well there, but I don’t suppose I’d want to work there either.”

He laughed softly and took off his hat, resting it on his knee.

“I’m so glad you called.” Looking at him she was reminded of the fluttering she’d felt all day at the museum.

“You are?” Abel raised his dark eyebrows and smiled unabashedly.

“Of course.”

“Sorry it took so long, I--“

“You’re fine, it’s been a few days, and most guys like to string a girl for longer than that.”

“I’m not most guys.”

“I know, that’s pretty clear.” But Marigold wasn’t referring to his clothing or his accent and Abel seemed to know that. The silence held the words they didn’t need to say. They sat drinking their latte’s, biting their lips, smiling quietly at one another.

“Would you like to play something?” he asked setting down his mug and pointing to a shelf holding all sorts of games.

“Sure. I mean, yes. Do you have a favorite?”

“We don’t really play these sorts of games at home. You pick.”

She walked over to the shelf, raising her eyebrows. “You’re smart, right?” Her fingers brushed against the boxes, inspecting the choices. “So Scrabble’s out, and so is Balderdash. Word games,” she explained to his scrunched up face. “Chess is confusing and checkers is too easy. Poker?”

He shook his head, “No betting.”

“Right. Um, ohh, this is perfect.” She pulled out a red box, and brought it back to him.

“Pictionary, the game of quick draw.” Abel read from the box top.

“Sketch and score and a whole lot more,” added a smiling Marigold.

“You ready?”

“I’m a sheep farmer, Marigold, clearly I’m a born artist.”

***

A few hours later Abel and Marigold left the café, both a little hopped up on caffeine and the rush of getting to know someone. They were from different worlds, sure, but in many ways they were compatible. Like puzzles pieces, different around the edges, but still they fit.

“I live a few blocks from here, want to come over?”

“My roommate is expecting me, I promised I’d go with him to the dining hall.” Abel didn’t want to start ditching the one friend he had in all of Jamestown.

“Oh, of course.” Marigold knew disappointment flashed over her face. She wasn’t ready for the afternoon together to end.

“But can I walk you back?”

“That would be good. Or, I mean right good.” Marigold baited him, and it worked.

“So you’re teasing me, are you?”

“Trying to, but I can’t find much fault with you, if I’m being honest.”

“Please, be honest. But there are lots of faults, I can assure you that.”

They walked to Marigold’s house, and she realized this was a date, like a real date, no mistaking it. Abel had paid for their second chai’s and their lemon bars. He’d asked her questions about her messed up family, and she asked about his. He inquired on her job prospects and she spoke truthfully about the dead ends she’d encountered, although she left out the other part of the truth. Most people around here had no interest in hiring her, not after last year’s stunts.

It was all first date stuff, only better, because there wasn’t the weird awkwardness that she’d felt with guys before. She wanted to lean over and kiss him. She wanted to ask him inside. She wanted to see him again.

“So this is me….” she said, her stomach fluttering, not in nervousness, but in anticipation.

“At home we only can take girls out after a Singing, about once a week. That’s the only time we’re allowed to be alone with them, in the ride home in our buggy.”

“Right, in your buggy.” She looked up at him, he was a lot taller than her, and she felt small all of a sudden as he pointed out their obvious differences. But she also felt precious. He looked at her so attentively, as if he treasured her even though they hardly knew one another.

“But a guy doesn’t just take any girl home in his buggy. It has to be a girl he wants to court, someone he sees some sort of future with.”

Marigold swallowed, her eyes growing wide, realizing what he was trying to say.

“You have a girl at home? Waiting for you?”

Abel shook his head fast, and reached for her hands. She drew in her breath as he did. They were calloused and strong and covered hers completely.

“There is no girl, Marigold. I was trying to tell you that, but I’m not exactly sure what’s okay to do, or say. I’ve never dated an
Englisher
before.”

“We’re dating?”

“I’d like to take you out again, if you’ll have me. I know there are a lot of differences between us, ja? And maybe it’s a bad idea, knowing I’m here for just a summer before I’m supposed to go back home. But you make me feel at ease, it’s not like that with everyone. I don’t want to miss out on a good thing because of an unknown future.”

She looked down at his hands, realizing she’d already assumed there would be another date. More of these hands on hers, and maybe his mouth on hers, too. She pushed that thought away, realizing she was in no position to kiss someone so different than her.

As far as the future, she didn’t even know where she’d be by the end of summer. For now she’d find ways to be happy. Abel was one of them. She knew seeing him again wasn’t even a question. Of course she would.

“For sure and certain,” she said, remembering the Amish words he’d said before.

The simple words brought a huge grin on his face, and she matched his.

“Where did you come from?” he asked.

“The real question is where am I going?” Marigold didn’t know what she was doing. She was floundering, but Abel seemed steady, sure. She wanted that in her life. She needed that.

“Tomorrow?” she asked.

Before he could answer Lily opened the front door.

“You have seriously got to be kidding me.” Her voice was monotone, but somehow her loathing clear.

“Hello, Lily,” Abel said, and then turning to Marigold he explained. “We met in class today.”

Lily stood with her arms crossed, scowling.

“You guys are so weird, but Mom saw you from inside and told me to tell you dinner is ready. Like, now, if you’re hungry.”

“Okay, just give me a sec.” Marigold tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as Lily walked away. The sweet-good-bye-moment had been stolen from her and Abel.

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

Abel

              Wednesday morning, as Abel left Practical Business Application, the girl with the thick black glasses stopped him in the hall.

“I’m Kiera.”

“I’m Abel.”

“Everyone knows who you are.”

He didn’t answer, not knowing what to say to that.

“Anyways, everyone’s getting together tonight for a mixer. Tell your stoner roommate, okay? We’re doing what Professor Trape suggested, figuring out who’s got what before class next week.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, like eight-ish, in the common room.” She walked away before he even answered.

“Ja, I’ll be there,” he told himself, knowing he’d need to muster up some courage for his first college mixer, whatever that was.

Later that day he knocked on Marigold’s front door, hoping she’d answer and not her overbearing sister. He’d watched Lily in class today; she pursed her lips and offered a constant eye-roll when anyone asked a question. Even though Abel himself knew the questions could be easily answered if someone just spent a moment reading the assigned text, Lily gave no one the benefit of doubt.

Marigold was nothing like her; she was all clouds and starlight, wild and free. She was all the things an Amish girl wasn’t; yet somehow had a disposition more sincere and earnest than even his sister Bekah had, and Bekah was the gentlest girl he’d ever known. At least before she’d frozen him out over Joshua.

Lily answered the door.

“Really, you’re back?”

“Ja,” he smiled at her as she stood in the doorway, not offering him a way in. “Marigold here?”

“Marigold!” Lily screeched her sister’s name, not even turning to yell away from his face.

“Are you coming to the mixer tonight?” Abel asked politely, not wanting to hear anymore screaming.

“Oh god, you’re coming?”

“
I am in the program
, just the same as you.”

“Yeah, but everyone knows how you got in.”

“Do they now?”

“Charity, right? Probably some television exec wants to give you a reality show.”

Abel laughed, “Maybe so, but I think it mostly had to do with my SAT score and application.”

Lily’s stood straighter, narrowing her eyes, suddenly changing her position and deciding to play on the offensive. “What was your score?”

Abel laughed again, having never been asked a question like that in his life. He was used to questions like,
When are you taking your kneeling vows? When are you going to get serious and choose a nice Amish girl? When is your Dad retiring and giving you his farm?
No one at home considered a test score worthy of dinner conversation.

“You truly want to know?”

She stared harder, pressuring him to answer.

“Twenty-three seventy.”

“Shit.” She dropped her arms. “Really?”

“Ja, tis nothing to lie about.”

“Um, basically everyone lies about that stuff.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I guess not.” She huffed and then held up her hands in defeat. “So do you, like, want to go together tonight, to the mixer?”

“I tell you my score and suddenly we’re friends?”

“Well, I don’t want someone else to take you. You have the highest score in the cohort. Didn’t you look at the database?” He shook his head, having never heard of the database before.  “Oh my god, you are so Amish.”

Marigold walked to the door, eyeing the two curiously.

“Everything okay here?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes. Be back here at 7:30, okay?” Lily raised her eyebrows, as if the one in charge. “That gives you two hours to go hangout with my weirdo sister, but come back and we can go together.”

Marigold walked down the stairs, letting him know it was time for them to get away from Lily.

“See you then, Lily,” he said.

“Don’t go blabbing about your score either, okay?” she said shutting the door on them.

Abel suppressed a smile, as Lily left, but one look at Marigold and he smiled. A few dates and he was smitten, a few more days and he’d be done for.

Marigold

They went to a greasy pizza place on campus and ate slices folded in half while sitting on a park bench.

“Another date, another game. This time twenty questions,” she said.

“Favorite dessert?” he asked without skipping a beat, bringing a smile to her face. Question one. She was tired of guys more interested in their image or their careers or their phones than the girl sitting next to them at a park.

Abel was everything everyone else wasn’t.

“Homemade cherry pie,” she answered.

“Who makes it?” Two.

“Me, of course.”

You bake?” he asked. Three.

“Yes, lots, but you aren’t answering the questions. Not fair.”