Chapter 19
Toothpicks were great for picking teeth. How would they work for propping up eyelids? Elijah slipped into a chair at Charm’s
Pizzeria and Pasta Restaurant. He grabbed the toothpick holder and rolled it back and forth on a table covered with a red-and-white-checked
cloth. The aromas of oregano, garlic, onion, and baking bread made his mouth water. His eyes burned under heavy eyelids. After
a long night staring at the motel room ceiling, listening to his grandpa snore, Elijah might finally be able to sleep—from
sheer exhaustion. On the other hand, every time he stopped working, all he could think about was Bonnie.
Smart. Hardworking. Faithful. Pretty. Very pretty. Kind. His brain liked to pair the words up with pictures of Bonnie at the
store. It was like the kaleidoscope he had as a kid. The images fell into different patterns each time, but they were always
beautiful.
Did she ever think of him?
“I do love the smell of garlic breadsticks baking.” Toby dropped into a chair on the other side of the two tables the server
had kindly scooched together for the Miller men—most of whom hadn’t shown up yet. Toby’s boot smacked into Elijah’s. “Sorry.
I needed to stretch my legs. Did you order? I’m starving.”
“I did. This place is crowded. It’ll take a while to get the order out. Where is everyone?”
“Daadi isn’t coming. He said he’s more tired than hungry.” Toby tapped a rhythm on the table with one finger from each hand.
“It’s not like him to pass up eating his favorite spaghetti and meatballs. I hope this trip hasn’t been too much for him.
Don’t tell Mammi I said that. Her meatballs are plenty gut.”
If their grandfather got sick, it would be Elijah’s fault. Grandpa had come along only because Elijah had an aversion to auctioneering.
“I guess he’s not getting a restful sleep if he’s snoring all night long. It’s so bad they can probably hear him three rooms
down either direction.”
“It starts out like a bullfrog with a sore throat and works its way up to a wood chipper chomping up a tree trunk. They can
hear it in the next county.” Grinning, Toby stole Elijah’s glass of iced water. He gulped down half of it. “It’s gotten worse.
That’s why no one offered to share the room with you two. So what were you thinking about when I came in?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing Elijah wanted to share with a brother who seemed to have few faults, little self-doubt, or even fears. Toby was married,
he had kids, and he took over the administrative side of the family business when Grandpa retired. On the auction circuit,
he was the favorite Miller auctioneer. To be fair, Declan, the jokester, had people eating out of his hands before cancer
took his voice, but Toby had a charisma that couldn’t be denied.
It seemed when God was handing out qualities to the Miller brothers, He’d shorted Elijah. Even Emmett, who came along afterward,
was more outgoing and determined to be the best Miller auctioneer yet.
“Come on, Bruder. You were so deep in thought, I figured I needed to send in a search party to find you. You’re still doing it.” Toby paused while the server set a glass of water and a basket of breadsticks in front of him. He thanked her and helped himself to the bread. “Let your big bruder help you solve your problem. Is it about auctioneering? Dat agreed not to put you back on the platform until you say you’re ready. I told him you’d be scarred for life if it happened again.”
“Danki for sticking up for me.”
“You’re my favorite bruder.” Toby pointed the breadstick at Elijah. “You don’t talk too much. You don’t tell corny jokes.
You let me boss you around.”
He probably told Jason, Declan, and Emmett that they were his favorites too—but with a different list of reasons why. Toby
was a good big brother. He didn’t get married until he was thirty. He had plenty of experience with women. Elijah squirmed
in his chair. “It’s not the auctioneering.”
“Then what? Come on, you can tell me. I won’t laugh. I promise.”
Elijah helped himself to a breadstick. He broke it in half and dropped both pieces on a saucer. “You talk to everyone. Even
women.”
Toby threw back his head and laughed a deep belly laugh that startled the elderly couple at the next table. The man frowned,
but the woman laughed. The Toby effect. “I do my best. Half the people in the world are women, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“How do you do it?”
“I talk to them like people.”
“I know, but I don’t talk much to people either.”
Toby tore off half the breadstick and stuffed it in his mouth. Chewing, he wiped his hands on the red napkin. Finally, he
swallowed. “Is there a particular woman we’re talking about?”
“Maybe.”
“Spill the beans, Bruder.”
“Bonnie. Bonnie Yoder.”
“Ah, Bonnie from Homespun Handicrafts. No wonder you were so wound up after she fell. Not exactly a great start.” Toby took
another bite of bread, chewed, and swallowed. He smacked his lips. “Everybody says Bonnie does a gut job with her shop. She
doesn’t let that walker slow her down much. She’s nice.”
“It’s called a rollator.”
“What is?”
“The thing she uses to get around.” For some reason it seemed important to clarify that. And easier to talk about than his
feelings for Bonnie. “It’s a rollator.”
“Got it. So you talk to Bonnie like you would Josie or Layla or my fraa or Jason’s fraa. Say hallo. Comment on the weather.
This beautiful spring weather lasting well into May is a blessing. Bonnie probably thinks so too. She has a shop. Ask her
how the shop’s doing.”
“You talked about the weather when you took Rachelle for a buggy ride?”
“Ah. So we’re to the buggy ride stage.” Toby dropped the breadstick and clapped softly. “Gut for you. Rachelle and I talked
about a lot of things, but we had a lot in common. Both families have special kinner. She was a teacher. We needed someone
to teach Dat to read. She loved teaching. I love auctioneering. Neither of us wanted to give up what we loved. We had plenty
to discuss. Just figure out what you and Bonnie have in common. When are you taking her for a ride?”
“I haven’t asked her yet.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“To get off the auction circuit, for one thing.” Elijah’s leg jiggled of its own accord. He stuck his hand on his thigh to still it. “Trying to figure out what to say, for another.”
“You’ve never courted, have you?” Astonishment flitted across Toby’s sunburned face. “How old are you?”
“You’re not helping.”
“It isn’t that hard. Really it isn’t. I promise. You make toys. She’s makes stuffed animals and dolls.” Toby shoved his straw
hat back on his head. He scratched his forehead. “Talk about making things. Be sure to tell her she’s pretty.”
“You’re supposed to say that?”
“You think she’s pretty, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Then why not say so?”
“Looks aren’t supposed to be important.”
“You’re saying something nice to a girl you like. We’re allowed to do that. Bonnie doesn’t seem like the type to let it go
to her head.”
“Maybe I should tell her a joke.”
“A joke? I’ve never heard you tell a joke, ever.” Toby grunted. “Leave the jokes to Declan.”
“I can tell a joke.”
“Okay, fine, lay one on me.”
Elijah searched his brain for one he’d heard Declan tell Sadie a million times. She never failed to laugh. But she was eleven.
“What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”
Toby rolled his eyes. “What does corn say when it gets a compliment?”
“Awww, shucks.”
More eye rolling, this time accompanied by head shaking. “Like I said, leave the jokes to Declan. Just be yourself.”
“Should I, you know, should I... ?” Heat scorched Elijah’s face. He grabbed his ice water and gulped it down. “Where is that server? I need more water.”
“Are you asking me if you should, what, hold her hand?” Toby pursed his lips as if trying not to let his laughter escape.
“Maybe kiss her?”
“Stop laughing! How am I supposed to know?”
“When the time is right, you’ll know. I promise. It’ll be like you jumped on a runaway Amtrak train and there’s no slowing
it down. Just follow her lead.”
“I don’t think she has much experience either.”
“Because of the rollator thing?”
“Jah.”
“Everybody has disabilities. Some show. Some don’t. I think Gott allows them so we don’t get too uppity for our own gut. Like
the verse says, so no one can boast. In our weakness Gott is strong.” Toby stuck his arm in the air and waved wildly. “There
they are. It’s about time.”
Elijah swiveled and craned his neck. The Miller men tromped through the restaurant toward him. Emmett’s hair was still wet
from a shower. Dad was even more sunburned than Toby. Grandpa had decided to come after all. “Don’t tell them what we were
talking about.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Our food is here.” Toby moved the bread basket so the server could place two deep-dish pan pizzas
on racks she’d placed on the table. A helper followed with pasta dishes, side salads, and more breadsticks.
“What are you two jawing about?” Dad plopped into a chair next to Toby. “Seemed pretty serious.”
“Nope. Elijah was just giving me some pointers.” Toby winked as he picked up the tongs lying next to the extra-large Canadian bacon, mushroom, green pepper, and black olive pizza. “On life. You want the first piece, Dat?”
“I’ll take two. I’m starving.”
Elijah silently telegraphed his thanks to Toby as the conversation around him quickly diverted to which pizza place had better
pizza and the day’s auction.
No more messing around. In three weeks, he would march into the store, stride to the counter, and ask Bonnie to take a ride
with him.
Three weeks was a long time. Somebody else could ask her out before then.
He should’ve asked her before he left.
He could write her a letter. Nah, she’d think that was weird.
Could You do me a favor, Gott? Don’t let anyone else get a hankering to ask her out before I get a chance.
He should add, Thy will be done. But somehow he couldn’t. Let God’s will coincide with Elijah’s. Just this once.