Chapter 24
24
After Sara slammed out the back door of the building, Lois retreated to the counter, a little mortified that she’d been eavesdropping. But just a little. The office door was open and Sara had been really loud.
A few minutes later, Moses stepped into the shop and asked, “Where’s Evelyn?”
“I told her to go spend some time in the market.”
Moses said, “I’ll watch the shop so you can go look too. Amy’s hoping you’ll stop by her booth.”
“Oh.” Lois reached under the counter for her bag. Moses didn’t seem upset by Sara’s words or exit. “I’ll take my lunch with me.”
“Does it happen to be a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich and an apple?” He gave her a smile. A normal, kind smile.
“Jah.” She hated when he referred to something from their school days. Sure, she liked peanut butter and that’s what she had in her lunch every single day, but it was also an economical choice—both when she was a scholar and now. His knowing what was in her lunch bag felt weirdly intimate. She gave him a wave as she stepped around him. “See you soon.” Once she was outside, she made her way toward the booths to the east of the building, stopping at Casey’s first. He was counting a wad of money.
“Looks like sales are going well,” she said.
He glanced up at her and smiled. “Lois. Did Moses allow you to escape your cage?”
“Something like that.” She grinned. “Your Amish birdhouses are selling well in the shop. We’ll be ready for more soon.”
An Amish man whom Lois didn’t know approached Casey and said, “I’m working at the food cart. Moses is letting me store extra propane in the shed, and we need it already.”
“All right.” Casey held up a key ring. “I can unlock it for you.” He put up a sign that read Be Back in Five Minutes.
“I can watch your booth.” Lois held up her bag. “I’ll eat my lunch while I wait. If anyone’s interested in a purchase, I’ll chat with them until you return.”
A couple of Englischers stopped and looked through Casey’s toy trains. “Will you be back tomorrow?” the man asked.
“Jah,” Lois said. “I actually work in the shop.” She motioned to it. “My friend is the craftsman. He’ll be back in a few minutes and will definitely be here tomorrow too.”
When Casey returned, Lois walked to the other side of the market to see Amy.
“Finally!” Amy stood at the edge of her booth. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I’m here for a few minutes.”
“Who’s watching the shop?”
“Moses.”
Amy’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s nice of him.”
Lois concentrated on the display of candles to her left. “Mind if I do some rearranging?”
Amy laughed. “Did you just change the subject?”
Lois smiled. “Maybe.” Then she started moving the candles around. “How do you like working at the market so far?”
Amy stepped closer to Lois. “I feel a little guilty. It’s so much easier than my work at home. I’m going to have to think of something really nice to do for my Mamm.”
Lois put three pink candles in a row in front. “You deserve a little break. And a chance to have your own business. It’s only two days a week. And Bennie will have them tomorrow, right?”
“I’ll bring Maggie with me and put her in the front pack. Do you think that will work?”
“Absolutely,” Lois said. “She’ll be your secret marketing tool. Sales will probably soar.” Lois could just imagine the Englischers sneaking photos of the Amish baby strapped to her mother.
The next morning, Lois stood at her window over the market. Moses and Casey had been working together to check in the vendors, but then Moses headed to the parking lot. Lois opened her door. He drove away just before nine, right before the market opened.
And he didn’t return all morning. Because Evelyn was also working, Lois went out to the market around noon to see if Casey needed anything.
“A bathroom break.”
“You’ve got it,” she said.
When he returned, she headed over to Amy’s. Several women had gathered around the stall. One asked Amy if the baby was her first.
“Oh, no,” Amy said. “She’s my fourth.”
“Oh, goodness. You have your hands full.”
“Jah,” Amy said. “And so is my heart.”
Lois smiled. Amy always knew what to say. After the women left, Lois stepped inside the booth. “Do you need a break?”
“Jah.” Amy swayed as she spoke. “Maggie is going to wake up any minute, starving.”
“Take her up to my place and feed her,” Lois said. “I’ll watch your booth.”
Amy showed her the change box and the notebook where she recorded the sales. “I’ll be fast.”
“Take your time.” Lois handed Amy the key to her apartment. “Get something to eat while you’re up there.”
Amy grabbed the diaper bag. “See you soon.”
When people stopped at Amy’s booth, Lois said that her best friend made the candles and soap. “She’s a young Amish woman with four little ones.” She’d learned in the shop that people were more likely to buy an item if they had information—a story—about the person who created it. “She makes the candles and soaps during naptime and after the kids are in bed.” Lois motioned toward the shop. “She has her baby with her today. She’ll be right back.”
One of the tourists bought five bars of soap—for her friends back home—and another bought a candle. Another said she’d swing back by the booth before she left the market.
“Make sure and stop in at Paradise Found too,” Lois said. “We carry items you won’t find here in the market. Greeting cards. Hand towels. Tablecloths. That sort of thing.”
“I will,” the woman said.
Perhaps Moses would be willing to carry Amy’s candles in the shop.
“Lois!”
She turned her head toward the familiar voice. “Scotty!” She stepped outside and gave him a hug. She seldom hugged anyone, but Scotty was an exception. “Are you getting ready to move?”
“Not yet. The farm still hasn’t sold.”
“That’s a shame.” But she was relieved. That meant Moses hadn’t bought it.
“I’ve stayed away from the shop on purpose. I didn’t want to interfere. But I heard Moses fired you and then rehired you.”
“From Isabelle?”
Scotty nodded. “I would have talked with Moses if he hadn’t hired you back. He assured me he’d keep you on.”
“Jah, well, we seem to have come to an understanding.”
“So everything’s all right now?” Scotty’s serious expression showed how much he cared.
Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, and her throat thickened. Things weren’t all right.
“Lois?”
She tried to smile.
“What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t pour her heart out to Scotty, even if he was the closest thing she had to a parent. “Oh, I’m just trying to figure out what to do with my life is all.” She forced a smile, trying to hide the sadness she’d felt since Menno stood her up. Behind Scotty, Amy approached. “You remember my friend Amy,” Lois said to Scotty, as she reached for the baby. “This is her youngest, Maggie.”
“Good to see you again,” Scotty said to Amy. He reached for Maggie’s chubby little hand and shook it. “And nice to meet you.” Then he turned his attention back to Lois. “Let me know if you need anything. Or someone to brainstorm with. Barb and I are always available for you.”
“Thank you.” She hoisted Maggie higher in her arms. She was getting heavy. “I’ll let you know.”
Monday, Lois stopped by to see Anna. As they had on Lois’s three previous visits, they sat and watched the birds together. A male pine warbler, with its bright yellow throat, pecked away at the seeds.
“He’s a pretty boy,” Anna said. “What’s he called?”
Lois told her.
“Denki. I used to know all their names.”
The warbler left and a song sparrow landed in the acrylic feeder. A little brown bird. Anna reached for Lois’s hand and said, “Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O L ORD of hosts, my King, and my God.”
Lois whispered, “Psalm 84:3.”
“Jah.” Anna squeezed her hand. “Gott takes care of us.” Anna exhaled slowly and then whispered, “But I still want to go home.”
Lois patted Anna’s hand.
After a few minutes of silence, Anna said, “Moses and I used to go birding together.”
“Really? Moses did?”
“Jah. He’s my boy.”
“He is,” Lois said. Before, she hadn’t been sure whether Anna knew that. She hadn’t mentioned Moses yet.
“I had a brother,” Anna said.
“What was his name?”
“Paul.”
Lois thought of the article on Moses’s computer screen. Paul was the name of the man who’d died. “Where did you grow up, Anna?”
“Near Gap.”
That was less than ten miles east of Paradise, and according to the article, near where the accident happened.
They sat in silence for a while, but then Anna asked, “How are you doing?”
“Me?” Lois asked.
Anna nodded. “Are you sad?”
Lois exhaled and then took Anna’s hand. “I have been sad.”
“Why?”
“I thought I’d met someone...” She wouldn’t go into too many details. “Someone who cared about me, but then it turned out he didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. Did you learn anything from this person?”
Lois hesitated. “Maybe.” She’d shared more with Menno than she had with anyone besides Amy. She’d been vulnerable with him, far more than she’d been with John. Maybe even more than she’d been with Moses.
If she could trust someone she’d never met, could she learn to be more trusting of people she actually knew? Not everyone was like her brother, with her worst interests in mind.
Tears stung her eyes. She missed her own parents, even more so when she spent time with Anna. But being with Anna reminded her to turn toward God. To trust Him for her future. And for that she was thankful.
On Tuesday during her lunch break, while Moses watched the shop, Lois scootered to the post office. She had a letter from Teresa and the birding circle and another letter from her brother.
Why haven’t you answered any of my letters? I have no other choice than to write to Bishop Stephen and insist he send you back home.
Lois eyed the garbage can. But throwing the letter away wouldn’t make Randy—or her problems—go away.
She opened the letter from Teresa and first skimmed down to Menno’s entry.
I saw an American avocet at Delaware Shore State Park last week.
He went on to describe the bird’s stilt-like legs, its upturned beak, and its white and black body.
It was scrabbling around in the sand for crustaceans but occasionally would grab an insect out of the air.
Lois was tempted to write Teresa and tell her that Menno didn’t actually exist, but obviously he existed in some way. Just not in an honest one. But then again, Jane didn’t really exist either. And Lois didn’t want to have to confess that, not yet anyway.
Next Lois read Teresa’s missive.
Like birds, we Plain people tend to flock together. We offer mutual aid when someone is sick, we bring meals when a baby is born, we do chores when there’s a death in the family. But do we reach out to make new friends, among fellow Plain people and among Englischers?
She wrote that Menno—Lois sighed—had already mentioned a starling murmuration, which Teresa said was truly enchanting to watch.
Many think the starlings come together to evade predators and meet prospective mates. But a more popular belief is that they do it to strengthen friendships and make new ones. A sort of shared experience. We certainly share many experiences, but do we look for experiences to share with others we may not know well? Ones who don’t belong to our district? Follow the example of our feathered friends and keep the bonds you have strong—and look for new ones too.
Lois thought of the Paradise Amish Market. Moses had brought a group of vendors—Amish, Mennonite, and Englisch—together in a community. She’d been so worried about the birds, but they hadn’t left the woods, unless it was to start their migrations. And Moses was thinking about opening up that area for people to see more birds. Or maybe just be .
She would look for new bonds to form within the vendor group. Honestly, besides Amy and Bennie—and Anna—Lois felt pretty short on friends. For a moment she thought of Moses. Could they be friends again?
She wrinkled her nose. Nee, she didn’t think so.