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Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand

Like a Bee to Honey (16 page)

BOOK: Like a Bee to Honey
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Rose scooped up Leonard Nimoy again. “Oh, you
gute, gute
kitty. You learned how to shake hands.” It never hurt to give Leonard Nimoy some encouragement. If she learned to roll over, Aunt Bitsy wouldn't dream of getting rid of her.
Aunt Bitsy deposited the few pieces of cat food back in the bowl, gave Farrah Fawcett a smirk, and washed her hands. Then she returned to her dough and started forming it into loaves. “How was Mammi and Dawdi's house today?” she said, as if she were asking about the weather. Aunt Bitsy never let on, but she knew perfectly well how visits usually went with Mammi and Dawdi.
Lily plopped herself into a chair at the table. “They tried to convince me to marry Paul. Dawdi threatened to bar me from the house again.”
Poppy rolled her eyes. “If only he knew how tempting that threat is.”
“I don't think they'll stop until I'm married,” Lily said.
“Maybe you should just tell them you're engaged,” Rose said. It might make visits to Mammi and Dawdi's more pleasant.
“Not yet. I want people to be surprised when we're published in church.”
“Dan and Luke have been spending a suspiciously large amount of time over here,” Poppy said. “I think most people already suspect.”
Lily smiled. “I suppose that's true.”
Rose snuggled Leonard Nimoy up against her chin. “They keep insisting that I come and live with them when Poppy and Lily are married. It makes me nervous.”
“You know you can't be forced to do any such thing,” Aunt Bitsy said, covering her loaves with a dishtowel. “My
dat
is trying to scare you. He did it all the time when I was growing up.” Unhappy and unspoken memories traveled fleetingly across her face before she huffed and pretended they hadn't been talking about anything important. “
Ach, vell.
It doesn't matter, Rose. You are an adult. I am an adult, and there's nothing Dat can do about it.”
Aunt Bitsy seldom talked about her childhood, but Rose knew it hadn't been a happy one. Rose felt doubly blessed. Although she had lost her parents, she'd still grown up in the happiest of homes.
Aunt Bitsy pinched Rose's earlobes. “Try not to let him upset you. That was my problem, and it didn't solve anything.”
“I wish I could be courageous and stand up to both of them,” Rose said. “They shouldn't pressure Lily, and Paul should quit trying to talk them into it.”
“There are different kinds of courage, and don't you forget it.” Aunt Bitsy's frown sank farther into her face. “I got a letter from Wallsby today.”
Rose nodded to her
aendi
as if her getting a letter from Wallsby was nothing to be upset about.
Aunt Bitsy opened the pencil drawer and pulled out a letter. The back of the envelope had five Bible stickers stuck to it. Aunt Bitsy still had a few friends in Wallsby. The Honeybee sisters had lived there with their aunt for two years after their parents had died.
Aunt Bitsy pulled the letter from the envelope—two pages filled with neat handwriting in blue ink. “Edna says the girls are fine, but she hopes the rest of her babies come one at a time.”

Oy
, anyhow,” Poppy said. “I don't think I'd survive if I had twins.”
Aunt Bitsy pinned Rose with a steady gaze. “La Wayne Zook died last week.”
Rose felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of her. She pressed her hand to her neck.
Poppy took Rose's hand. “
Cum
. Sit down.”
Rose obeyed numbly, as if it were someone else Poppy was talking to and not her.
Aunt Bitsy ran her fingers along the crease in her letter. “He'd been in the hospital for almost three months when he passed. Liver failure.”
“From drinking?” Lily said softly. She was probably hoping Rose wouldn't hear her.
Aunt Bitsy nodded. She filled a cup at the sink, brought it to the table for Rose, and sat down next to her. “This is none of your doing, Rose.”
Rose bit back a sob. “Then why do I feel so horrible?”
Poppy sat next to Lily and grabbed on to Rose's wrist, but she didn't have anything to say. Her sisters watched her with concern and pity in their eyes.
For sure and certain, they were glad
they
hadn't testified against La Wayne Zook.
Rose clasped her hands in her lap and put that unkind thought out of her head. Her sisters would have done anything for her. They never blamed her for what had happened, even though they'd been forced to move after La Wayne went to jail.
Ach!
She wished she had never known Mary Beth Zook. She wished they had never moved to Wallsby. She wished her parents hadn't died. Dawdi said that wishing denied
Gotte
's hand in their lives. Rose had learned herself that no amount of wishing or even praying would change the past.
“Now that he is dead, you don't have to be afraid of him anymore,” Lily said.
Aunt Bitsy studied her face and frowned. “You still blame me for insisting you testify?”
Rose finally broke down. “I don't know. How can I blame you, Aunt Bitsy? How can I blame anyone but myself?”
The memory she had tried to bury resurfaced and left her gasping for air. She and Mary Beth had been playing dolls in the Zooks' haymow when Mary Beth's
dat
had come home. It was the middle of the day, and he had been let go from his job at the greenhouse because he often went to work intoxicated.
Rose had never seen anyone drunk before, and La Wayne's slurred speech and slow movements had frightened her. Rose and Mary Beth had been using one of the bridles in the barn as a swing for their dolls. La Wayne had yelled and cursed all the way up the ladder.
Rose clamped her eyes shut as the memory overtook her. She could still smell the pungent odor of horses and fresh-cut hay mixed with the sickly sweet scent of alcohol on La Wayne's breath. She saw the dust motes floating in the beams of sunlight that peeked through the slats of the barn and felt Mary Beth's breath against her cheek as they clutched each other and huddled behind a bale of hay. And most of all, she remembered the sounds—La Wayne's slurred, threatening words as he climbed the ladder, coming closer with every heartbeat, Mary Beth's crying, apologizing to her
dat
again and again, the sound of Rose's own whimpers as La Wayne snarled at her.
Rose flinched and rubbed her hand up and down her arm, the arm La Wayne had broken when he'd shoved her from the haymow and she'd tumbled onto a pile of straw on the barn floor. He'd been pulling Mary Beth's hair. She couldn't cower behind the hay bale and let him hurt her very best friend in the world.
What haunted her most was La Wayne's tortured expression when he realized what he had done. He'd bolted down the ladder—afraid he'd killed her—and snatched her out of the pile of straw. He had grabbed her arms and shaken her until she started breathing again. The pain in her arm had been like fire. The terror in her heart had never completely subsided.
He was the one who had carried her into the house and sent one of his boys to fetch Aunt Bitsy. He was the one who had apologized again and again as Rose lay on Mary Beth's bed sobbing in fear and pain while she waited for Aunt Bitsy to come and get her. Mary Beth's
mater
—Rose couldn't even remember her name—had brought Rose a cool rag for her forehead. She had shushed Rose, pleading with her to stay quiet. “You won't tell anyone what happened, will you? That's a
gute
girl. Mary Beth's
dat
loses his temper sometimes, and he is very sorry. You'll be a
gute
girl and keep our secret.”
Oh, how she wished she had done as she had been told.
Aunt Bitsy had clutched Rose to her bosom in the hospital and squeezed the wind right out of her. Because the thought of losing one of her girls had made her resolute, she had called the police, and they'd arrested La Wayne right there at his home, in front of his children. The bishop had insisted that La Wayne's drinking was a church matter and that the church would handle it. He'd said it was a sin to take a
fater
from his family. Aunt Bitsy had sent Rose upstairs when the bishop had come, but Poppy and Lily had pulled the bed out from the wall so all three of them could listen to the conversation through the air vent. Bitsy had been firm with the bishop and even more insistent with the police.
Rose's testimony sent La Wayne to prison for three years. The entire community had been shaken. Women refused to talk to Bitsy at
gmay
or invite her to quilting bees or canning frolics, and none of the Honeybee sisters had been allowed to play with anybody else's children. When it came time for school in the fall, the deacon had told Aunt Bitsy that her nieces were not welcome in class until they repented and let La Wayne come home.
It was then that Bitsy decided to move to Bienenstock—close to her parents, and far enough away from Wallsby that they could start over.
Aunt Bitsy wrapped her arms all the way around Rose. “Maybe my heart was full of revenge, but I would do it again if I had to. La Wayne Zook hurt my baby girl. I would have faced a whole roomful of bishops to defend you.”
“But what was done was done. My arm was already broken. Enough bad things had already happened.” Rose leaned her head on Aunt Bitsy's shoulder. “We should have forgiven him and let it be.”
“But, baby sister, how many more times would La-Wayne have hurt his own children if he hadn't gone to jail? Have you thought about the children you saved by testifying against him?”
“You didn't testify to get revenge,” Lily said. “You testified to help children like Mary Beth and her brothers, even though they couldn't see it.”
“But he was so sorry, and a family lost a
fater.

“It was his choice to throw you to the ground like that. You could have died.” Aunt Bitsy shuddered. “
Gotte
gave you a soft place to land.”
“I was okay.”
Aunt Bitsy cupped her hand over Rose's cheek. “You weren't okay, Rosie. It's only been in the last year that you haven't had a nightmare every night.” Her eyes flared with emotion. “In many ways, he stole your childhood.”
“I've forgiven him.”

Ach
, baby sister, I know you have, but it's hard to leave the damage behind, even with such a forgiving heart. I pray every day that you'll leave your fear by the side of the road, but I wish you'd never had to carry it in the first place.”
Rose placed her hand over Aunt Bitsy's. “The
gute
and the bad that have happened to me have been
Gotte
's will. I don't like being afraid, but the fear is part of who I am. I would never dare question
Gotte
's plan.” She reached into her apron pocket to find a tissue. It was empty. Where was Josiah when she needed him?
Lily snatched a tissue from the box on the counter and handed it to Rose.
“The person you haven't forgiven is yourself,” Aunt Bitsy said.
Rose concentrated very hard on the wood grain in the table. “Josiah said I deserve to be happy.”
“I like him more and more all the time,” Aunt Bitsy said. “Even if he's used all my duct tape.”
“But how can I be truly happy when I tore a man from his wife and sent him to prison? La Wayne's whole family has been affected by that choice. How can I be free of that?”
“Because La Wayne made his choices too.” Aunt Bitsy leaned back in her chair. “La Wayne had just as much opportunity to be happy as you. It's not your fault that he chose misery.” Aunt Bitsy scooted out from under the table, and her chair screeched along the wood floor like a semi trying to stop at a red light. “Let's start dinner.”
The sisters stood, and Lily and Poppy each gave Rose a giant hug. “I agree with Josiah,” Lily said. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Poppy nodded. “So does Josiah. He's had his share of heartaches in his life, and he is such a
gute
boy.”
“Jah,”
Rose said. “I want Josiah to be happy. I want everybody to be happy. Even Paul Glick.”
Lily giggled. “I think Paul is happiest when he gets himself worked up into a fit of righteous indignation. We've given him lots to be indignant about. He's happy.”
Poppy pulled four plates from the cupboard. “What's for dinner, Aunt B?”
“We're having tacos from sunny Mexico.”
“Sunny like your hair,” Lily said.
Aunt Bitsy grunted her displeasure. “Bitsy Kiem and her urine-colored hair. It sounds like a grunge band. Or a Broadway musical.”
Chapter Ten
Rose felt like a raccoon trying to sneak into the henhouse. With her heart beating a thousand miles a minute, she peeked around the aisle to spy on Paul Glick. He stood at the counter helping a customer, oblivious to the fact that Rose was trying to work up the courage to go over there and give him a piece of her mind.
Well, not exactly give him a piece of her mind.
After several Saturdays of being lectured to by her grandparents, Rose couldn't bear to hear Mammi and Dawdi sing Paul Glick's praises one more time. How could she stand by while they wounded Lily's feelings with their harsh words?
She had driven the buggy to the Glick Family Amish Market with every intention of going right up to Paul and giving him a talking-to about kindness and revenge and bearing false witness against his neighbors. He must be told that he had no chance to win Lily back and that he must stop trying to convince her grandparents otherwise.
Rose was determined to talk to Paul for Lily's sake—to put his vindictive lies to rest forever. If that wasn't bravery, she didn't know what was. But the minute she had climbed out of her buggy, she had reconsidered. She wasn't brave enough to give Paul a lecture.
She sidled down the aisle and tried to spy him in the cracks between the shelves. Maybe she could buy a tub of licorice and nicely ask Paul to please stop harassing her family and find another girl to marry.
Rose picked up two tubs of licorice and took two steps toward the end of the aisle before she realized her knees were practically knocking together. Maybe she would simply give Paul a kindly smile and apologize to him for the bad feelings she'd been harboring toward him these last few weeks. Or months. In truth, she'd been harboring bad feelings for Paul for years. Should she apologize for everything? Should she tell him she just wanted him to be happy?
She turned around and tiptoed back to the middle of the aisle, where she returned the licorice to the shelf. She didn't like licorice. Why had she even thought of licorice? Biting her bottom lip and trying to keep from shaking, she picked up a tub of pretty, pastel-colored mints. Mints were nonthreatening. Who didn't feel kindly toward their fellow men when they ate pink and yellow mints?
She tiptoed back down the aisle and let out a tiny squeak. Paul Glick was standing at the counter staring in her direction and frowning so hard Rose wondered if he had a stomachache. He'd seen her. There was no turning back. Her throat constricted. She wasn't going to be able to talk to him, even if she'd wanted to, which she didn't. All she had to do was buy her cute, friendly mints and go away. It was a start. Aunt Bitsy would be proud of her courage.
Well, not really courage.
Aunt Bitsy would be proud that Rose hadn't fainted at Glick's Market—unless of course, Rose did happen to faint. At the moment, that was a very real possibility. Paul glared at her as she took halting steps to the counter. She didn't have to say a word, just show Paul her mints and give him her money.
She laid the mints on the counter and reached into her apron pocket for the five-dollar bill she knew was there. Paul narrowed his eyes as if she had dumped a handful of fresh manure in front of him. “I can't take your money,” he said.
She wanted to ask why not, but she couldn't manage a sound. Her fist tightened around the bill in her pocket.
Paul picked up the friendly mints and shoved them toward her. There was nothing else to do but take them from his hand. “You Honeybee sisters earn money by cheating people. We don't take dirty money here at Glick's Family Market.”
Rose should have known she'd be no match for Paul's nastiness. Her legs suddenly felt too weak to stand on, and even though it moved her a few inches closer to Paul, she clutched the counter to keep from collapsing into a heap. Every muscle in her body trembled, and an invisible hand seemed to clamp around her throat, cutting off whatever air might have squeezed through.
There was nothing to do but leave the mints and get out, if she could make it to the door without disintegrating into a puddle of tears and humiliation. She slid the mints onto the counter and turned to go.
“You can't just leave them here,” Paul said, as if she'd committed a crime. “It makes extra work for me if I have to reshelf them. Put them back yourself.”
With her stomach clenched in mortification, Rose picked up the mints. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Is everything okay?”
She didn't think her stomach could sink any lower. If there was one person she didn't want to witness her humiliation, it was Josiah Yoder. She opted not to turn around. Maybe he didn't know it was her from the back.
Paul was suddenly all smiles. “Josiah Yoder. I can ring those purchases up for you right now.”
“Rose was here first.”
Her stomach fell to the floor. It had been silly to think he didn't know it was her.
Ach, du lieva
. Why, oh why had she come? Paul's disdain was bad enough, but to be humiliated in front of Josiah Yoder was unbearable.
Paul pressed his lips together, lifted his chin, and didn't even glance at her. “She was just leaving.”
Although she couldn't bear the contempt or the pity or whatever it was she was going to see on his face, Rose turned around. Josiah looked as if he were made out of stone as he stared at Paul with intense blue eyes. His face was a mask of calmness, but his eyes flashed with a hint of profound anger. She caught her breath. She'd never seen Josiah angry before.
He had a bag of chicken feed slung over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all, though Rose knew it had to be at least eighty pounds. In his other hand, he held a five-gallon jug and the very expensive quilt that, until one minute ago, had hung on the far wall of the store, clenching it in his fist as if he'd hurriedly snatched it off the wall. He was carrying at least six hundred dollars' worth of merchandise. “Is your cash register broken?” Josiah said.
Paul glanced at Rose. “It works fine. Rose will buy her mints at another store.”
Josiah's eyes turned wintery, like ice so cold it burned to the touch. “You are a Christian, Paul Glick, and nothing in our faith justifies you treating Rose like this.”
Paul glanced at the five-hundred-dollar quilt in Josiah's fist. “I think you misunderstand this situation. Let me ring up your purchases, and then we can talk about it in private. Rose and her
schwesters
don't have the understanding and wisdom we men do.”
Josiah's expression was righteous and terrible at the same time. He'd never looked so handsome. “Rose is smarter and kinder than the two of us put together. There is nothing you can say to me that you can't say to her.”
In spite of her distress, Rose's heart skipped. Josiah thought she was smart?
Paul folded his arms across his chest and stood with his feet firmly planted on the floor. “It is because I am a Christian that I'll not do business with her.
Gotte
commanded us not to steal. I don't sell to liars or cheaters.”
Josiah laid his purchases on the counter. When Paul reached out for them, Josiah grabbed Paul's hand as if he were shaking it. Paul tried to pull away, but Josiah held fast.
Rose flinched. She would hate herself if this turned into a fight.
Josiah grasped Paul's hand with the grip of a farmer and eyed him seriously. “I know that Lily broke your heart.”
“She didn't break anything,” Paul muttered.
“If I lost a girl like that, I would never be whole again. But that is no reason to be cruel.”
“It's not cruelty,” Paul said. “It's justice. The Honeybee sisters must suffer the wrath of
Gotte
.”
“And you are not Him,” Josiah said.
Paul's nostrils flared. “I am His servant.”
Josiah released Paul's hand, lowered his eyes, and shook his head. “Then perhaps you don't know the Master you serve.”
“Is there a problem?”
Rose didn't think her throat could get any tighter. Paul's brother, Perry, came up menacingly close behind Josiah, looking as if he'd just as soon hit somebody as shake hands. Perry was not tall, but he was twice as thick as Josiah and probably a hundred pounds heavier.
Rose nearly lost what fragile composure she had left. This was why she didn't want anyone to protect her or make her a project. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if Josiah got hurt.
Her legs shook so hard she could barely stand, but she found the strength to step between Josiah and Perry. If Perry wanted to hit someone, let it be her.
Surprise popped onto Perry's face, and he took a step back.
“Rose,” Josiah said, in a voice that came from deep within his throat. “Rose, it's okay. No one is going to hurt me.” He laid his warm hands gently on her shoulders.
She looked up at him, and his icy-blue gaze nearly made her melt. His fierce expression was a mixture of astonishment, pride, and determination. There was something else there too, but she didn't dare guess the secret behind his eyes.
Perry frowned. “What's going on, Paul?”
“Nothing,” Paul said, dismissing his brother with a wave of his hand. “Josiah is buying this quilt.”
A confused smile crept onto Perry's face. “That's nice. It's been up there for almost a year.”
Josiah took Rose's hand right there in front of Paul and Perry and tugged her toward the door. “
Cum
, Rose. I know a driver who can take us to Wal-Mart.”
“What about the quilt?” Paul sputtered, the panic flickering in his eyes. He obviously saw his profits walking out the door with Rose Christner.
“It's very beautiful,” Josiah said. “I hope you can sell it.”
Complete silence.
As soon as they emerged into the daylight, Rose pulled her hand from his and walked as quickly as she could down the street. It was a silly thing to do. She couldn't outrun Josiah, and he certainly wasn't going to just let her go like that. The tears were already trickling down her face.
Oh sis yuscht,
along with everything else, she hated for him to see her like this.
As she'd expected, he couldn't just let her go. “Rose, wait,” he said, catching up to her before she'd even gone five feet.
She stopped, because it was pointless to run, and dangerous when she could barely see the sidewalk past the tears.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and the tenderness in his eyes nearly knocked her over. “Are you okay?”
A fresh wave of tears hijacked her. Josiah was so
wunderbarr
, and he had witnessed her mute humiliation. He'd seen how weak and helpless and foolish she was, and she couldn't bear it.
“It was my own fault. I never should have tried to—”
“Of course it wasn't your fault. No one deserves to be treated that way, especially not you.” The anger in his voice sounded like a barely controlled fire.
“I went in there because I wanted to prove to myself I could be brave, but I should have known that Paul isn't ready to forgive yet. I'm so ashamed.”
Oh, how she loved that piercing gaze, and oh, how she hated it.
“Rose, you thought Perry was going to hurt me, and you got between us. That's the bravest thing I've ever seen anyone do.”
“That wasn't brave. If you were hurt for my sake, I'd never forgive myself.”
“And I'd never forgive myself if I didn't step in to help you,” he said. “Would you have wanted me to stand aside and do nothing?”
She bowed her head. “
Nae,
but I wish you hadn't seen me humiliate myself.”
“I came for that very reason,” he said.
She snapped her head up to look at him. “You came to see me be humiliated?”
He plastered a silly grin on his face and coaxed a reluctant smile from her. “I stopped by your house to see if Bitsy needed any repairs done, and she told me you were on your way to the market. I don't trust any of the Glicks to be nice to you, so I drove over just to be sure you were okay.”
“Were you really going to buy that quilt? It costs five hundred dollars.”
He shook his head. “I came in, saw you standing at the counter, and grabbed the most expensive things I could find in a hurry. I wanted Paul to see that he'll lose money if he mistreats his customers, especially the Honeybee sisters.” He studied her face and lost any hint of a smile. “Was that dishonest? I hope you don't think it was dishonest.”
She lowered her eyes to the pavement. “I think it was very kind of you to stand up for me like that, but I wish I was brave enough that you didn't have to.” To her frustration, the tears began to flow again.
He took a tissue from his pocket and handed it to her, then nudged her chin with his finger. “You never have to be brave when I'm around. I'll protect you.”
“I hate thinking that you pity me and you're only my friend out of the goodness of your heart.”
“We've talked about this before, Rose. You know I don't pity you.”
She walked to her buggy. He followed. “You wouldn't like it if someone treated you like a baby.”
He gave her a small smile. “Suvie treats me like a baby.”
Rose couldn't help but smile back. “She treats you like a younger brother. If she treated you like a baby, you'd move to Indiana.”
“Florida. Indiana is too cold.”
She curled one side of her mouth.
He rested his chin in his hand and gazed at the sky, tapping his index finger against his cheek. “So I have to prove to you that I don't pity you or think you're a baby?”
BOOK: Like a Bee to Honey
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