The Amish Seamstress (26 page)

“Nope, and after the long nap I had this afternoon, I won't be ready for bed anytime soon. Why don't you get a board game out to enjoy with the others?” She pointed to a cupboard along the far wall of the living room.

I chose Scrabble, a set that looked as if it had been around for several decades, and headed back into the kitchen. “Want to play?” I asked Zed, holding up the box and giving it a shake.

He glanced at his backpack and then said, “Oh, why not? I can do homework anytime.”

I turned toward the sink, where Ella was rinsing out the dishcloth. “Ella?” I asked. “You guys want to join in?”

“I will, but Luke's busy fixing that busted pipe on the trough.”

Ella, Zed, and I sat at the table and focused on setting up the game. We launched right in and were soon neck and neck on the scoresheet. As we played, I thought of how glad I was that Ella had changed so much in the past few years and that I'd had this chance to get to know her better. I could easily imagine her as my sister-in-law, just as I could easily imagine my life with Zed, the two of us side by side in front of a fire, him reading or on his computer, me doing handwork, sharing an occasional comment or idea between us. Or perhaps a kiss. I sighed, overcome with joy. We were so compatible as a couple.

Why couldn't he see that?

“Izzy?”

Both Zed and Ella smiled at me. “Your turn,” he said.

“Oh, sorry,” I replied as my face flushed with heat.

I turned my attention to the game, my eyes going from the board to my tiles and back again. Then I nearly squealed in delight as I spotted a way to maximize my points. Grabbing all but one of my tiles, I spelled out the word
BLAZER
, stretching it from a triple letter score under the
B
to a double word score under the
E
.

Zed groaned as Ella said, “Well, if I can't win, I'm rooting for her.”

Ella and I totaled up my score together, but the sound of our voices didn't drown out a faint buzz coming from Zed's pocket. He glanced at Ella, looking properly embarrassed for having a cell in her Amish kitchen. He pulled out the phone and looked at the screen.

“Forty-six points! Take that!” I crowed—just as he pushed the button and answered it.

“Hello?”

Ignoring him, Ella hooted and gave me a high five. I grabbed the pencil and paper from Zed's place to write down my total.

He stepped away from the table toward the hall, putting a finger in his free ear as he said, “Sorry, that's Ella and Izzy.” And then, “Oh, gosh, no. Izzy's just a friend. I've told you about her before. Remember? My old buddy from back home?”

I froze, the pencil still in my hand. Again I could feel heat flushing my face. At least I was saved from having to meet Ella's eyes when the back door suddenly swung open and Luke stepped inside, his coat and work boots on.

“I need some help,” he said. “Where's Zed?”

“On the phone,” Ella answered. “Can I do it?”

“
Ya
. I just need someone to hold the pipe while I screw on the gasket.”

“Be right back,” she said to me.

I stared at the board as Zed's words went through my head.

Izzy's just a friend. My old buddy from back home
.

The very thought made my stomach churn.

As his phone conversation continued, I tried to hear what he was saying but could only pick up a few words here and there.

“No way…so much better than I do…seriously?…of course…what time?…nothing important…if you want…I can be there in…”

His voice faded back out, so I wasn't sure, but it sounded to me as if he was making plans to head out of here and meet up with someone else. Feeling nauseated, I stood and went to the living room, away from Zed entirely, deciding to check on Rosalee.

The afghan, yarn, and her hook were all in her lap, but she was staring into the fire.

“Are you doing all right?” I asked.

She assured me she was.

“I think I'll go out and see if I can help Luke and Ella then.”

She nodded.

It was entirely an excuse, but I needed to do something to clear my head—not to mention get as far away from Zed Bayer at that moment as possible. I hurried to the mudroom, slipped on my boots, and grabbed my cape, swinging it over my shoulders and then fastening it. After pulling my black bonnet and gloves from the shelf, I stepped out into the snowy night.

I guessed Ella and Luke were at the trough, so I headed that way, determined to be useful, but before I reached the barn, Tom stepped out of the woods, startling me. In the eerie light of the winter landscape, he called out, “Izzy, is that you?”

“Yes.”

He increased his steps to a jog as he came toward me. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to go for a stroll.”

I turned and looked toward the house, knowing if I went with Tom now, Zed would be…what? Angry? Irritated? Hurt?

Good.

“Where to?” I asked a bit too forcefully as I turned back toward Tom.

“Wherever,” he replied, and I tried to calm myself as we set out.

We started off fast but then slowed it down as we detoured into the orchard, finally coming to a stop under the snow-covered branches, looking up at the few stars peeking from behind the clouds. Then we continued on down the driveway, past the bakery and toward the lane. We didn't talk much as we went, and I was relieved to see that Tom didn't try to take my hand or even stand too close to me as we walked.

As we crossed the empty parking lot he paused, as though there was something he wanted to say. But my mind was still fuming over Zed, and I didn't even realize he was talking to me until he said my name.

“Izzy?”

I shook my head, trying to focus. “I'm sorry, what?”

“I was just apologizing for my behavior last Saturday. At the pond. I acted like a jerk. I'm sure in all the excitement that you just forgot about the whistle. I had no call to bite your head off.”

His apology had taken me by surprise. I wouldn't have guessed he had it in him, but I thanked him just the same and told him not to worry about it. “I'm glad everything turned out okay.”

“You and me both,” he replied with an easy laugh, and then we began walking again.

The packed snow along each side of the lane was still nearly four feet high where the plow had pushed it, and it formed a dim sort of tunnel down the center. If I'd come here with Zed, before the phone call, I would have thought it terribly private and romantic. Now it was just a reminder of the wide gap between us, the utter cluelessness of the man in the house on the phone, the man making plans to go see someone else instead of continuing to hang out here with his “old buddy” Izzy.

Unbelievable.

Ahead and off to the side was an especially large mound of snow. Tom stepped up to the bank there and began scooping his hand into it. Behind us, I could hear the sound of a car inching up the lane.

I knew before I turned to look that it would be Zed. Sure enough, I watched and waited as his twin headlights came closer, illuminating us there in the night. When it reached us, the old Saab came to a stop, and then Zed rolled down the window and leaned slightly out. “There you are. What gives, Izzy? I was looking for you to say goodbye.”

I didn't answer.

The defrost fan in his car was at full speed. He leaned out further. “I'm really sorry, but I need to get back sooner than I'd expected.”

“You…
need
…to get back?” I managed to say.

Even though he had the decency to blush, all I could do was stare at him, the panic and anger that had been building for the past fifteen minutes bubbling up toward the surface. Beyond that, had he not even noticed that I was out here in the dark
with Tom
?

Or had he noticed and just didn't care?

“It's a long story,” Zed said.

I was trying to think of a good reply, something along the lines of him being the
master
of storytelling, when suddenly I felt a tug at my neck and something icy cold strike my back and then slide down along my bare skin.

Tom burst into laughter even as I arched, jumping around and squealing as I tried to get at it. Somehow, he had managed to pull the collar of my cape and dress back far enough to drop in a snowball. After blazing an icy path down my spine, it settled at my waist, and I tried my best to dislodge it, swatting at my lower back with one hand, pulling my dress away from my legs with the other.

I pranced and swatted until finally I got most of the snow out of my dress and onto to the ground. Finally, I spun back around toward the car—just in time to see Zed speeding off, his window rolled up tight.

“I think someone's jealous,” Tom said, stepping closer as we both watched Zed's red taillights bump down the lane.

Though I knew I shouldn't feel that way, a part of me could only hope
he was right. If Zed was jealous, then surely that meant he thought of me as more than just a friend.

I glanced at Tom, my eyes narrowing at the glee on his face. He was no better. After all, I felt sure he'd put the snowball in there in the first place specifically to make Zed jealous.

But instead of revealing how annoyed I was, I sweetly said, “I need to get back.”

Tom's voice gave away his disappointment. “So soon?”

“Rosalee's alone now that Zed left.” I took off at a march, and Tom hurried to keep up with me.

When I reached the back door, I said a quick good night and slipped inside, regretting that I'd wanted to use Tom to make Zed jealous.

Later that night I helped Rosalee get to bed, taking my time and giving her an extra dose of tender loving care. Then I sat on the couch in front of the dying fire, alone, and tried to sort out my thoughts. I felt embarrassed by how I'd been thinking of Zed up until tonight, as if our coming together as a couple was only going to be a matter of time. Now, I was forced to face facts, as it was clear that any chance of us having a future together was remote.

Sitting there in the shadows, I tried to picture a life with Tom similar to the one I'd imagined with Zed, but I couldn't. Tom was okay, and he was Amish, but I knew he wasn't the one for me.

Zed
was
, but apparently I was the only one who would ever know.

The next morning was a church Sunday, and even though it would make for some extra trouble, it was obvious Rosalee wanted to go. She dropped hints at breakfast until finally Luke teased her, saying, “Guess I'd better see if that wheelchair of yours collapses enough to fit in the buggy. Otherwise, you'll be wheeling yourself all the way down the highway on your own.”

Chuckling, Ella assured Rosalee that they would make it work one way or the other. Sure enough, with a little maneuvering, we were able to fit the four of us plus the chair, and off we went. Though I was a little hesitant about being around such a big group of people I didn't know, I ended up
feeling really glad we'd made the effort. The congregation was warm and friendly, and the Spirit of the Lord filled the room.

Everyone was so nice, and they made a huge fuss over Rosalee, who thrived under all of the attention. Watching her, I realized she'd probably been a little stir-crazy with no freedom to come and go and only the three of us for company day after day.

Ella sat with Cora and Annie up toward the front, but I sat on the very last bench on the women's side with Rosalee's wheelchair beside me. As often happened when I was upset, I had a hard time concentrating on the sermon. I felt bad about that, but there wasn't much I could do to control it. Mostly, I just kept replaying the evening before, over and over in my mind. Zed's phone conversation. My walk with Tom. Zed stopping to tell me goodbye. Zed speeding off.

Where had he been going last night? Who was there waiting for him? And where was he this morning? My head pounded with unanswered questions.

“We must surrender to God, no matter how dark the tunnel we find ourselves in,” the preacher was saying, his voice kind and gentle. That got my attention as I remembered the dim tunnel of snow down the lane. “God will see us through our suffering, but we must trust Him completely, knowing He is good and His will is what is best for us.”

I thought about that for a moment, reminding myself that I had to trust Him completely, no matter the outcome. As the preacher continued, a deep ache slowly took root as I was forced to admit that it very well could be God's will that I
not
marry Zed.

My mind worked on that thought for a long while, until the preacher of the second sermon spoke along the same theme and made mention of the difficult roads the apostles and martyrs had traveled for the sake of their faith. Listening to him, I knew I had no right to complain. My living life without the man I loved paled in comparison to the sacrifices and sufferings they had endured.

That afternoon, while Rosalee napped after her big outing, I sat down on the couch with my handwork. But soon I happened to notice a manila file on the writing desk that hadn't been there yesterday. My curiosity got
the best of me, and I took a closer look. It was for me! Fixed to the top was a yellow sticky note with my name, in Zed's handwriting.