Chapter 10
Adam stood on the edge of the roof, facing west. The farmhouse was on a knoll and the countryside spread out before him, the afternoon sun shining over acres and acres of lush green farmland.
A hawk soared over the next property. He wasn’t sure if he felt at home in Lancaster County because it was where he’d been born or because it was so beautiful.
He slid a little, but the tie-off rope caught him. He hadn’t done a lot of roofing before—just enough so he could muddle through. He made his way back to the stack of shingles. As he slid a second time, Jacob came toward him. Adam, glancing upward, asked, “So are you and Joanna courting?”
Jacob grunted.
“Sorry.” Adam spoke louder. “Could you repeat that?”
Jacob didn’t respond.
Adam tried another approach. “Have you been working for Ike and Becky since you were first hired?”
Jacob gave him a puzzled look. “Why do you call your grandparents by their first names?”
Adam shrugged. “I thought maybe it would get your attention.”
Jacob frowned. “Jah, I’ve been working for them since then.”
The same amount of time Joanna had.
A head popped into view at the top of the ladder.
Adam let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s like a sauna up here,” Caleb said.
“Jah.” Adam wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Feels like Florida.”
Jacob nodded toward Caleb and then barked at Adam, “We need to get back to work.”
Adam strengthened his grip on his hammer and then pounded away on the roof, moving across his section, mindful of his feet.
An hour later, when Caleb called for a water break, Adam headed down the ladder and joined Jacob next to the cooler. Jacob was at least six feet three, four inches taller than Adam, and broad shouldered. He was bigger than Adam remembered. He’d probably bulked up working in construction too.
Jacob tossed his paper cup in the brown bag and headed back to the ladder.
Caleb stepped up to the cooler, grabbed a cup, and as he pushed the button said, “Jacob broke up with Joanna yesterday.”
“I wondered if that was the case. She was teary earlier.” That would explain their argument.
Adam had prayed for several months about whether he should accept his grandparents’ offer to go back to Lancaster County and work in the family business.
He was aware he’d let them down before—and he didn’t want to do it again.
He waited until he was sure. Was it significant that he’d arrived in Lancaster County the day Jacob broke up with Joanna—after he’d stayed away for three years because of Joanna’s lack of interest in him?
“It’s been one thing after another with their relationship,” Caleb said. “This is the second time he’s broken up with her.”
A pang of sadness for Joanna shot through Adam. He wasn’t sure when he saw her the Thanksgiving before last who had broken up with who.
“He used to be an okay guy. Mandy and I liked him—we thought he and Joanna were a good match, better than him and Miriam.”
“Miriam? Mandy’s twin?”
“Jah. He went out with her before Joanna. Not for long, though.” Caleb took another drink of water.
Adam felt ill. So Joanna and Jacob hadn’t started courting right after he met both of them, the way it had appeared.
He’d agreed to go to Pinecraft with his Spartansburg friends because Joanna had shown interest in Jacob instead of him.
But then Jacob chose to court Miriam. What if Adam had stuck around instead of fleeing?
Caleb dragged his hand across his mouth, pulling a few beads of water into his beard.
“But Jacob changed in the last few months. I mean, obviously, he broke up with Joanna before, but when they got back together he treated her well for a while. Until he didn’t.
Mandy wished he’d never started courting Joanna again.
She’s afraid he’s only made things worse—Joanna dealt pretty well with the first breakup, but Mandy’s afraid she won’t a second time. ”
Adam rubbed the back of his neck. Jacob was a fool.
An hour later, the panel van turned into the driveway of the farmhouse.
Adam couldn’t see the driver get out nor hear his door close over the pounding of the hammers, but a few minutes later the panel van backed out of the driveway.
Joanna was in the passenger seat. She glanced toward him and made eye contact.
Adam raised his hand to wave, but she turned her head away.
He realized he’d raised his hammer. He put it down.
By the time Caleb called it a day, Adam felt as if he’d sweated away ten pounds. Nick gave them a ride back to the warehouse—he’d returned in the passenger van they’d taken to Spartansburg three years ago. Jacob sat up front, Caleb and Adam sat on the first bench seat, and Tim sat behind them.
When they reached the warehouse, Adam went inside.
There were shelves of paint and supplies.
Shingles and hammers. Ladders and shovels and rakes.
Off in the corner of the warehouse was a collection of furniture that all appeared to be quite Englisch.
Dawdi wasn’t staging his houses for Amish buyers.
Neither of his grandparents were at the warehouse, so Adam headed down the lane to their house.
The back door was open, and he smelled chicken on the grill.
On the back porch, he wriggled out of his boots and then stood still for a minute.
There was nowhere in the world that brought him as much comfort as his grandparents’ home. He padded into the kitchen.
Mammi stood at the stove and turned toward him. “Adam, there you are. How was your day?”
“Gut. How was yours?”
“Wunderbar.” She cocked a lid on a pot and turned down the heat. “Dawdi and I have a new project in the works. A big house near the Pequea Creek covered bridge. Do you remember it? It’s three stories—Federalist-style.”
“Jah,” Adam said. “I think I know that one—it looks haunted, right?”
“Nee.” Mammi laughed. “Just old. The owner died and his son is selling. It needs a lot of work.”
“Where’s Dawdi?”
“Doing chores.” She sniffed dramatically and then laughed. “You need to go clean up.”
He sniffed too. She was right.
She headed toward the door with a big fork. “I’m going to turn the meat. We’ll be ready to eat in fifteen minutes.”
Adam had always loved his grandparents’ place.
The property consisted of the house, the warehouse with the apartment above it that were fifty yards from the house, a barn, and stables, all on fifteen acres.
They had a few horses and always a handful of steers they sold for beef.
Dawdi Ike said it was good to have a couple of sources of income.
Besides renovating houses, Dawdi also used to have a roofing crew he led.
But since Mammi wouldn’t let him get on a roof anymore, that side of the business wasn’t thriving.
Adam hoped Dawdi didn’t want him to lead a roofing crew. It was his least favorite job when it came to construction work, although he still preferred it to farming. But he knew how essential a good roof was to protect the rest of the house.
Twenty minutes later Adam sat at the oak table in the kitchen with his grandparents. After Dawdi Ike led them in a prayer, Adam said, “I saw Joanna Grebel at the worksite today.”
Mammi Becky paused a moment and then said, “You knew she worked for us.”
“Three years ago. I didn’t know she still did.”
“Joanna is a big asset to our company.” Dawdi passed the chicken to Adam. “I can’t know for sure, but I’m guessing we make five percent more on the houses she stages than we would otherwise.”
Adam took in the figure. That would add up over a year. “Caleb told me Jacob—what’s his last name?”
Mammi, with a clip to her voice, said, “Byer.”
Adam continued, “Just broke up with her.”
Mammi passed him the potatoes and muttered, “Thankfully.”
Adam raised his head. “Why do you say that?”
Mammi jerked her head up. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Jah.”
Dawdi laughed.
“Pretend I didn’t.” Mammi smiled. “I never thought they were a good match. Jacob is a fool, thankfully.”
Mammi passed the chicken to Dawdi. “I’ve been thinking about the trip to Spartansburg way back, the one when Joanna and Lu and Marcus all rode with us. Whose wedding did we go to?”
“Noah’s.” Adam’s face grew warm. Had his grandmother overheard his conversation with Joanna in the backseat of the van on the way home?
“That’s right. Noah and Emily’s wedding.”
Adam had been so sure Joanna would court him. It was Liewi at first sight for him, and he’d never felt that way again. Nor before Joanna. But Joanna didn’t want to court, and no wonder. She didn’t know him from—well, from Adam. She’d wanted to be friends, but he’d insisted it was impossible.
Then, when they spent that day together in Florida he’d thought maybe she did have feelings for him. Romantic feelings. But Ruthie showed up, and Joanna abruptly left.
“Adam?” Mammi’s voice was full of concern.
“Sorry.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
She put her hand on his forearm. “We’re glad you’re home. We’ve missed you.”
It wasn’t really home—but it felt as if it was. It was the closest thing he had to a home.
Mammi’s gaze met his. “Are you going to stay?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” He’d planned to, but having Joanna working for his grandparents complicated things.
Dawdi cleared his throat. “I hope you will. In fact, I hope you’ll take over the business in a few years, so we can retire.”
That complicated things even more.