Joyful (7 page)

She looked a little thinner. Her eyes were a little more wary. But she still looked as pretty as ever. And, well, he didn't know how she did it, but Elizabeth always smelled like clean laundry and cherries. Sweet and clean and mesmerizing.

As they walked through the entryway and passed the front living room and into the kitchen, Elizabeth seemed to be taking in every square foot. With every step, she looked to be a little more apprehensive.

Immediately, he noticed the dust bunnies in the corners of the woodwork, the stains on the floor, and the fingerprints on the doors. “Try not to look at everything too closely or you'll run away from here as fast as you can!” he joked. “I know it's a mess.”

“No, I was just thinking that it sure seemed quiet around here. Who else is home?”

“No one. Just me.”

“Oh.”

Was it his imagination, or did she now seem even more disconcerted? “Elizabeth, is that all right with you? I mean, you don't mind that it's just me and you for now, do you?”

“Of course not. I'm simply surprised. Where is everyone? I guess Kaylene is still at school?”

“Yep. And Neil is at the feed store. Micah is with a college counselor, and Levi is at his part-time job with the construction firm who hired me.” He pursed his lips. “Things are a lot different now that Junior, Claire, and Beverly are married.”

“I imagine so. But the three of them are happy, right? I mean, they've looked happy whenever I've seen them around town.”

“Oh,
jah
. They're happy as clams.” Mentally, he winced. Hopefully he didn't actually sound as bitter as he feared he did.

She sat down on one of the barstools against the island. He decided to keep a safe distance and stood in front of the stove on the island's other side.

“Is this what you do now? Stay here, holding down the fort?”

“So to speak. I don't know if Levi told you, but I cut my hours way back at my construction job.”

“I did hear that, though I'm not sure if it was from your brother. I must say I'm surprised. I thought you really liked it.”

“I did.”

“But?”

“But someone had to spend more time around here. And since it's obvious to all that Micah will one day follow his own path among the Englischers, that person should be me.” He shrugged. “I don't mind working only two days a week, but sometimes I fear I'm only making things worse around here. Lately, all I seem to be doing is cleaning and cooking, and none of it very well.” As soon as he heard his words, he ached to take them right back. Could anyone sound more pathetic?

And, well, he sounded like a liar, too, since he'd just noticed that one of the saucepans from last night's supper was still on the stove. Inside, the leftover beans no one had wanted had hardened like glue. Hoping she didn't notice it, he hastily picked it up and placed it in the sink.

Eyes following the pan, she murmured, “Even with only five people in the
haus
, I'm sure there's a lot to do.”

“There is, and to make things worse, I fear I'm a terrible housekeeper, Elizabeth,” he admitted. He gazed at her face, hoping she would either kid about his ineptitude or say that so far, the house didn't look too bad.

But instead, she looked at him in such a steady way that he felt she could see into his soul. After a couple of seconds, she sighed. “What is going on, Randall?”

“Nothing. We simply need some help.” Suddenly noticing how the countertops had crumbs from the morning's toast, he attempted to brush them onto a rag.

“Randall, please stop.”

“I'm only trying to clean up for you.”

“That's why I'm here,
jah
?”

“Not today though.”

Her lips curved up. “I promise, I'm not bothered by toast crumbs or dirty pots and pans. Don't clean right now, please? Your jumping around is making me nervous.” She gestured to the other stools. “Now, come sit down and tell me what you'd like me to do while I'm here.”

“Cook supper. Clean. And then there's also Kaylene.”

Elizabeth started to lean against the counter, but then gazed at the wood and Formica top, and seemed to think the better of it. “What about Kaylene?”

“Well, she's at an impressionable age, you know. And she's missing Junior. You remember how close they were.”

“He didn't want her to live with him?”

“He offered, but she didn't want to leave. And to be honest, I don't think I can let her go, Elizabeth. She needs to stay here. This is her home. Our home. I need to make things work for her. I'm really worried about Kay.”

Her gaze was searching. “So you agreed to me being here because of
Kaylene
?”

He was tempted to shake his head. To tell her that of course it wasn't just about Kay. It wasn't even just about having a dirty house. It was because of everything. His siblings, the house, the changes. Him. Her.

But of course he couldn't say anything like that, because his life hadn't changed. Besides, she needed money, too. “It's everything.”

“And there wasn't any other woman in Sugarcreek who you thought could assist your family?”

“I'm sure there are other women who could help us out, but not so many that Kaylene trusts.” He ached to say more. But he feared that nothing could come of bringing up old wounds. “Is being here—and being around me—going to be a problem, Elizabeth? I know we didn't end things on a good note.”

“Randall,
we
didn't end things.
You
did. You told me that you didn't want to see me anymore. That we couldn't work things out.”

He'd been lying, however. He
had
wanted to see her. But he had also wanted to do the right thing for his family. Duty had prevailed.

She looked at him a moment longer, then with a sigh, hopped off the stool. After opening up a couple of cabinets, she pulled out a mug. Then, to his embarrassment, she walked to the stove, grabbed the teakettle, and carried it to the sink.

“I can make you tea, Elizabeth.”

“
Nee.
I would like to do it, I think.” After vigorously scrubbing last night's pan, she took off the top of the kettle, peeked inside, and frowned. And then started scrubbing the inside.

“I didn't think the inside of a kettle ever needed to be cleaned,” he murmured.

“That is obvious.” She smiled slightly. “Randall, if you are truly interested in hiring me, I think I need to know more. What will this job entail?”

“How about I help you while we talk, Beth?” When she glared at him over her shoulder, he knew why. He used to call her Beth late at night when he would walk her home. It had been his pet name for her—liking it because no one else ever called her that.

“Randall, can we please discuss the job now?” Her voice was now tinged with stress, and he knew it was all his fault.

The job. Not them. The job. Not how much he'd hurt her. Or the way he couldn't seem to stop staring at her.

He forced himself to think of things in a clear way, to not get emotional. Or to focus on the faint thread of guilt that was needling him, reminding him of how many things she had been doing without.

“After Levi, ah, jumped the gun, we had a family meeting and decided that we do really need to hire someone to come in a few days a week,” he said as he watched her rinse the kettle with cool water and then fill it once again. “Since you have been taking care of your grandmother a lot, we thought of you. I mean, Levi did.”

“What about the pay?”

Though it was awkward, he pushed through. “We were thinking to pay ten dollars an hour? Would that be sufficient?”

She nodded solemnly. “I think that would be just fine. Now, when would you pay me?”

“I hadn't thought that far ahead. When would you like to be paid?”

“Once a week?” she asked as she set the kettle on to boil. “Would that work all right for you?”

Knowing she needed her pay every week made him feel guilty. They had so much and she obviously did not. “Of course that's fine.”

“Danke.”

As he watched her shoulders relax, Randall took care to keep his expression neutral. “Elizabeth, would you like an advance or something? Or some money? Do you need some money?” Thinking quickly, he said, “I've got about two hundred dollars in my wallet—”

“I don't need any handouts, Randall. I'm not a charity case.”

“You know I don't think of you that way. But we are friends, and friends help each other out from time to time.”

“And ten dollars an hour should be fine.”

Realizing that she was going to have to work ten hours in order to earn a hundred dollars, he felt pretty cheap. “You know what? Maybe we should raise it to twenty an hour.”

“I don't think so. That would be too much.”

When the kettle started whistling, he sagged in relief. This had been the most difficult conversation he'd had in some time. Reaching out, he pulled it off the burner.

He was about to offer her tea when she put a peppermint tea bag in her cup and poured the water. “Do you want tea for yourself, Randall?”

“No.
Danke
. You know I don't drink tea.”

“Well, you didn't used to. But I thought, perhaps, that might have changed, too.”

Unable to wait any longer, Randall said, “What happened to us, Elizabeth? I know I told you that I couldn't see you for a while.”

“
Nee
, you told me that you couldn't see me
anymore
. You broke things off.”

“Yes, but you seemed to accept it fairly easily.”

She inhaled sharply. Looking extremely affronted, she glared at him and said, “It wasn't my place. You are the man.”

“You knew I cared. You knew I had plans for us.” Remembering all the times they'd gone walking in the fields by her house, holding hands, sneaking kisses. Of course he'd cared! How could she have doubted it?

But instead of softening her stance, Elizabeth looked even more irritated. “I did not, Randall. You never said anything beyond some thinly veiled promises.”

He remembered those moments differently. “I said plenty.”

“No, you
kissed
me plenty.”

He'd done a lot of things wrong, but he knew he hadn't misjudged her responses to him. “Oh, don't act like you didn't like kissing me, too. We both know I treated you respectfully.”

“All I really knew was that after two years of courting, after two years of listening to vague promises, you pushed me away with little more than a fond good-bye.”

“I only pushed you away because you didn't understand how little time I had to give you. I know I hurt your feelings, but I wish you would at least try to forgive me. You have no idea what it's like to live in a house with so many siblings depending on you.”

“That's right. I only know what it's like to live with a grandmother depending on me.”

He felt his cheeks burn, but he wasn't exactly sure if it was from embarrassment or frustration.

He feared it was a little bit of both.

“I don't know what you want me to say,” he murmured after he settled down. “Before I broke things off, we hardly ever got to see each other anyway. I knew you were upset about it, too. Every time I told you that I couldn't see you, you acted like I was being sneaky and devious.”

“I only complained about your lack of time because you gave me no option.” Her voice became stronger. “Don't you remember? We would have plans and then you wouldn't show up. Or instead of spending the afternoon together you'd come over for ten minutes and a hasty kiss.”

“You're making me sound like the worst sort of boyfriend.”

She pursed her lips, not even trying to refute what he said. “You know what happened as much as I do, Randall. You pushed me aside with little explanation, expecting me to accept your decision without argument.”

He wanted to gape at her. Ached to argue, to point out the inconsistencies in her argument. He feared if he did that, however, he'd have to admit that he had just as many flaws.

And then, there they would be, rehashing everything that he'd thought a hundred times but had never had the time or the courage to tell her.

Instead, he held his tongue. “Perhaps we should keep our conversation centered on this job after all. I thought I'd show you the house and let you know where everything is in the kitchen.”

“There is no need, Randall,” she said as she followed him back to the front door. “I know where everything is, heaven knows I've been here enough. All you need to do is leave me in peace and I'll take care of the rest.”

Her rejection stung. Though, of course, it always had stung. Knowing he was just as much at fault didn't help him any, either.

Taking care to keep his voice matter-of-fact, he said, “Kaylene will be home at three o'clock. Can you stay until four today?”

“I can.”

“In that case, I'll be in the barn. Come get me if you have any questions.” And because he'd done it before, he turned around and walked away.

Leaving them both with a lot of questions and no easy answers.

The moment Randall turned his back, Elizabeth walked into the wide entryway of his house and slumped against the wall, almost knocking down the black-and-white building-block quilt hanging above her head.

Taking a quick step to the side, she exhaled and tried to regain her composure. But it was hard.

Randall Beiler irritated her like no one else. He also made her say and do things she knew she should be embarrassed about. And she
was
embarrassed. She hated arguing with him. She hated that she didn't seem able to push her hurt to one side and move forward.

But most of all, she hated remembering how he used to gaze at her so sweetly, as if she were the only girl in the world. Well, the only girl in the world he was interested in.