The Longing (29 page)

“When I was sixteen. Our church allows baptism when someone professes faith, but most parents, like mine, want their children to be older before they become voting members.”

“Sixteen’s not too young, really. I know lots of girls, ’specially, who take the baptismal vow as soon as they’re allowed to court.”

He seemed to understand. “Our church requirements are different from yours, I’m sure.”

She found it interesting he knew something of Amish practices. Perhaps it was due to his father’s family tree.

The more Chris talked, the more she realized he was very settled in his church and seemed to have a deep sense of purpose.

Why
had
he asked her out?

When they arrived at the ice cream shop, she wondered if they would go inside to eat or if he would prefer to stay in the car. After all, she was wearing a Plain dress, unlike Rhoda, who she’d heard flounced all around town in her worldly getup.

No, I must not think more highly of myself.

When Chris came around to open her door, she smiled, pleased.
He’s not embarrassed at all.

It was a chore to rein in her smile as they headed to the sidewalk leading to the little shop. This being a weeknight, she hadn’t expected the place to be so busy. But then, school was out for the summer. She’d nearly forgotten to ask Chris about his graduation last month and made a mental note to mention it later.

“What’s your favorite flavor?” he asked, his eyes intent on her as they waited in line.

“Mint chocolate chip.” She could almost taste the rich, creamy ice cream made on the premises—as delicious as the homemade kind she and Nan took turns cranking in their old ice cream maker on hot nights. “What’s yours?”

“Coffee,” he was quick to say. “I don’t drink it, but I love the taste of coffee in ice cream.”

She inched forward in the line with him. “It’s funny, but coffee brewing smells just wonderful-good, yet the actual drink tastes bitter to me.”

He nodded in agreement.

“I use coffee in my Chocolate Christmas Cookies, though. And they are delicious, if I do say so myself.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. It wasn’t like her to boast.

He smiled down at her. “I don’t doubt it. How many recipes do you have?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Oodles. I’ve even started writing out some of them.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s great. Are you making a cookbook?

Recipes from Nellie’s Simple Sweets?”

She shook her head, pleased but embarrassed by his enthusiasm. “Ach no. Just jotting them down for the customers who ask.” She quickly changed the subject. “Suzy wasn’t much of a baker, but she loved to make all kinds of ice cream. Nearly as soon as the bumblebees flew, she’d want to make it—around the time we started goin’ barefoot in the spring.”

“Suzy was keen on bare feet,” he said.

“Oh jah, and she was always pushing the time for when we’d shed our shoes. Suzy loved the feel of barnyard mud squishing ’tween her toes.” She caught herself. “Sorry . . . I don’t mean to chatter on so.”

“Isn’t talking the best way to get acquainted?”

Her face reddened again. Goodness, but she liked him.

They were having such a laughing-good time already, and Rhoda scarcely even knew Ted Shupp. He walked over to her car after she’d pulled up and waved to him, opening her door. “Nice
wheels,” he said admiringly.

“Thanks,” she said, blushing a little as she stepped out.

“This place is sure hopping tonight,” he commented.

She noticed several Amish courting buggies toward the back of the lot and wondered who was out on a weeknight.

“Ever ride in one of those contraptions?” Ted asked.

She already liked Ted, but she wasn’t ready to go into the whole story of her family background. “I sure have.” She laughed. “I have friends who are Amish.”

“Hey, me too.” He grinned, and she was struck again by how comfortable she felt around him, which must surely be a good sign. “Who do you know that’s Plain?”

She pulled a name out of her head, that of one of their former preachers. “Oh, the Zooks.”

He chortled. “Aren’t there a hundred and one Zooks around here?”

She nodded slowly, stepping back on the slippery path of pretense. “More Zooks than you can count, prob’ly,” she said, walking beside him as they headed into the pink, red, and white ice cream shop.

I best watch myself. . . .

Jazzy, upbeat music wafted through the ice cream shop. Nellie felt like bobbing her head, as Chris was doing.

He caught himself and smiled apologetically. “I have to admit to liking cheerful music.” He began to describe the appealing gospel-style music he’d heard at the Tel Hai Campground tabernacle.

“Suzy went there,” she said suddenly. “Last summer.”

“She loved that little place.” He glanced upward, as though thinking back. “Suzy walked to the altar there, in fact.”

Nodding, Nellie admitted she’d read Suzy’s account of that happy day.

“How would you like to go with me sometime?” he asked, blue eyes shining. “I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”

She’d wanted to attend the open-air services ever since learning of her sister’s fondness for the rustic setting, but she’d never dreamed she would have the opportunity. Not with Chris, the very person who’d first invited Suzy, of all people!

Then she remembered she’d promised herself only one date with him. It made no sense to encourage Chris. Green though she was around English fellows, she was not so naïve that she couldn’t see how fond he was becoming of her.

“A revival meeting’s beginning in a few weeks—we could get in on the start of it, Nellie Mae.” The way he said her name, part pleading, part admiration, startled her.

She wanted to ask Chris if he felt strange being seen with her, but maybe she was jumping ahead too quickly, becoming too personal.

“Would you like to go?” He was pressing for an answer between spoonfuls of ice cream. “We could come here afterward.”

“But we hardly know each other.”

He stared at his dish. “Well, I don’t know about you, but it seems to me we’ve been friends for . . . well, quite a while.”

She couldn’t deny that, or the fact she felt drawn to him, as well. “Even so, I’m Amish. Surely this must be a problem.”

She found herself holding her breath.

What’ll he say to that?

“My grandparents were Amish, so it’s not like I’m a fancy, worldly man, or whatever it is your People might think of me.” His eyes were solemn but tender. “Just a few decades ago, my father’s father was Amish. My father and David Yoder are first cousins.”

Wanting to ask, yet cautious, she said, “How’s David doin’ since his accident?”

He bowed his head; then slowly he raised his eyes to meet hers. “My dad and I went to see David last Sunday afternoon. He’s struggling . . . he’s giving up.”

“Ach no.” Her heart sank.

Chris nodded sadly. “Caleb’s worried—all the family are. You can see it in their eyes, the way they move around the house, taking care of him. Elizabeth rarely smiles,” he added.

“Hopefully Rebekah can bring some joy to them,” she said. “I’ve heard she’s helpin’. She’s my sister Nan’s closest friend.”

“I’ve seen her sometimes—she comes by during the day.”

“It’s just so sad.” She didn’t want to dwell on this topic, although she cared deeply for the Yoders. She wondered, too, why thus far Chris had made no mention of David’s recent conversion.

Chris began to share about his church youth group and the Wednesday night Bible studies. Nellie lost herself in his words. How she enjoyed spending time with a date who loved the Lord.

She wanted to ask him about the passage in Romans she and Nan had discovered recently—one all about grace, which was still becoming a reality to her. And she would have brought it up, but at that moment she heard a familiar voice. Glancing at the door, she was surprised to see her sister Rhoda coming in with an Englischer, both of them laughing.

Is this her serious beau?

Then, just as quickly, she was more concerned about the possibility of Rhoda’s seeing her with Chris Yoder. She turned to face Chris again, her back to her worldly sister.

They were sharing an enormous banana split, the two of them dipping with long fountain spoons into the mounds of ice cream topped with whipped cream. Rhoda thought it dear of Ted to sit beside her in the booth. He had a great sense of humor and, now that he wasn’t hanging around the other guy, was much less a flirt—not that she minded the occasional wink or playful comment. So many nice qualities about him—he was polite and complimentary—and he was even better looking than Ken Kraybill.

Funny I should think of Ken.

She again marveled at Ted, sure she had found the perfect way to forget the pain her former beau had caused her. “Do you like kids?” she asked, spooning up her next bite.

“You bet I do. The more, the better.” He leaned close, like he might kiss her cheek. “How many babies do you want, honey?” He was so near to her, she could smell his cologne.

“As many as the Good Lord sees fit, I’m guessing.”

He laughed. “The way I see it, the Lord doesn’t have much to do with all of that.”

She smiled back at him, puzzled, thinking that sometimes there was a secret code to the Englischers’ way of talking. Even so, something told her he might be just a little fresh, sitting this close. Yet she didn’t budge. She’d been lonely since she and Ken split up, and having Mr. Ted Shupp be so attentive was just as nice as it could be.

The couple at the table behind them got up and left, and she leaned back in the pink booth, Ted’s arm around her shoulders now. That’s when she spotted her sister Nellie Mae with a fancy fellow. “Well, I’ll be snookered,” she said, excusing herself.

Boldly, she approached them, eyeing Nellie suspiciously from behind. She leaned over and smiled. “Why, goodness’ sake! Nellie Mae . . . what’re you doing here?”

Her sister instantly turned pale. “Oh, hullo, Rhoda . . . how’re you?”

Then, as if remembering her manners, Nellie sputtered out an introduction. “This here is . . . Christian Yoder, a friend of mine.”

“Hi there.” Rhoda offered her hand. “I’m Nellie’s sister, Rhoda Fisher.”

Chris nodded, smiling politely. “Weren’t you our waitress for my father’s birthday dinner?”

“Oh, so
that’s
where I first saw you. Christian Yoder, you said?” The name seemed familiar to her . . . but then, there were an awful lot of Yoders in these parts.

“Mostly it’s Chris.” He glanced now at Nellie Mae, who seemed to be shrinking on her side of the table.

“Are you eating alone?” Nellie asked her.

Rhoda realized what she’d done—setting herself up to be questioned later by Ted. She sure didn’t want that. Talk about spoiling things for herself, and mighty fast! “It’s my first date with someone, so I’d better get going.” She inched back, dying to return to Ted but still very curious about what Nellie might be up to. “Just wanted to say hi. Great ice cream here, ain’t?”

“Nice to see ya, Rhoda,” said Nellie. “I’ll tell Nan I saw you—it’ll make her ever so happy.” Nellie Mae looked forlorn as she mentioned Nan, and it made Rhoda feel lousy for abandoning her dearest sister.
I wonder how Nan is, really,
she thought, pasting on a big smile for Ted as she scooted in next to him once again.

First date?
Nellie didn’t quite understand, unless perhaps Rhoda meant this was a new beau. She wasn’t about to turn and gawk, but she would have liked to meet her sister’s friend, just as she’d introduced Chris to Rhoda.

She and Chris fell back into conversation, discussing everything from Chris’s college scholarship to his youth group fundraisers. As nice as he was, suddenly she felt terribly uneasy. Her parents would be upset, and Nan, too, if they heard she was out with an Englischer. How long before news of Nellie’s “fancy beau” would find its way to the Amish grapevine?

Across the way, she noticed Rhoda and her friend moving through the maze of tables, heading for the door. Nellie expected her sister to look over and wave, but Rhoda was preoccupied with her new boyfriend, laughing loudly as she held his hand.

“I’d love to go to the tabernacle with you, but I better not,” she told Chris after he’d brought up the revival meetings again.

His face drooped. “Well, it’s hard to describe, but I think you’d really like it. Lots of youth attend.”

Nodding, she knew intuitively that if Suzy had loved it, so would she. But she refused to break her mother’s or her father’s heart. There had been far too much sadness amongst the People for one year, and her seeing Chris was sure to raise eyebrows and bring unnecessary anxiety. “I should be getting home now,” she said, torn between the lovely idea of seeing him again and knowing their relationship had the potential to lead to yet another parting.

He rose quickly and gently escorted her to his car, not pressing the matter further.

Chris had witnessed the marked change in the tide. Somewhere in the space of time between Rhoda’s coming to their table and when she and her boyfriend exited the ice cream shop, something had changed drastically in Nellie Mae. Hard as he tried, he could not determine what had happened to alter her openness toward him.

He knew of a longer route back to Beaver Dam Road and chose that way, wanting to get things back on better footing before the night was over. But how? If he brought up Rhoda’s lack of Plainness, how would that serve to get Nellie talking again?

“I really wish you’d think about going to the tabernacle with me,” he ventured.

She gave a small sigh. “It’s kind of you.” Then she surprised him by saying she didn’t want to bring sorrow to her parents. She spoke more softly now—gone was the confident, talkative girl he’d brought to town. Was it her encounter with Rhoda, who apparently was no longer Amish, that upset her?

They drove without speaking for a time. Then, when he thought he might not get her to talk again, she looked over at him. “Besides your family history, how is it you know so much about . . . the Amish church?” she asked.

He was glad to explain. “David Yoder and my dad always liked to sit around after dinner at their house when I was a kid. They loved debating the rules of the Amish ordinances and my father’s belief in the grace of the Lord. My dad often said he knew what his Amish cousin believed nearly as well as David did himself.”