Chapter 36
Time did not heal all wounds.
Especially if a person kept picking at them.
Ripping off the bandage.
Rubbing the scab like a toddler with a skinned knee.
Elijah squeezed a box of wooden puzzles into the back of the buggy next to another rocking horse made for a custom order. An English Homespun Handicrafts customer wanted a horse with a pink bridle, a pink bandanna around the horse’s neck, and a pink saddle for her little girl’s birthday. Elijah was glad to oblige, especially since it had to be delivered to the store before the child’s third birthday this last week of July.
Today, in other words.
He stepped back, wiped sweat from his face on his sleeve, and picked up his inventory.
He snagged the pencil behind his ear and checked off the items on the list Bonnie had handed him the last time he was in the shop.
She’d barely looked up.
She paid more attention to some Tom, Dick, or Harry from the next town over.
He checked off the mower, the dollhouse, and the barn with a collection of farm animals.
The tip of the pencil broke.
His frustration at work.
Which could be true in other contexts as well.
He’d pushed Bonnie too hard and scared her off.
Now he had to work his way back, removing one stone at a time from the wall she’d built around her.
He tossed the pencil into the box and threw the list on top.
“Grrrrrr.”
Slowpoke barked.
“I’m not growling at you.
It’s just hot and I’m tired.”
Not because it was hot, but because he didn’t sleep well.
Too much on his mind.
He slapped at a swarm of gnats drawn to his damp face.
If only he could scatter unwelcome thoughts as easily.
“Who are you growling at?”
Sadie plodded on dirty, bare feet up to the buggy.
Despite it being the middle of summer, the eleven-year-old wore her school backpack.
Instead of books, the backpack held Matilda the Cat.
Matilda seemed quite happy with her ride.
Slowpoke ambled away. He and Matilda were not close friends. “Slowpoke only one here. You have imagin-nar-eee friend?”
Maybe.
Maybe his dream of a family and a life with Bonnie was a product of his overactive imagination.
“Nee, my imaginary friends moved to Lancaster County when I started school.”
“Ach, mine come to school with me.”
Her almond-shaped eyes earnest, she pushed her dark-rimmed glasses up her flat nose with her index finger.
“You miss yours?”
“Sometimes, but I have you and the rest of my brieder and schweschdre to keep me company.”
“Why you growling like a mean hund, then?”
“Sometimes I get frustrated.”
“Me too.
Like when I can’t make my hair stay in a bun.
Or my sneakers won’t stay tied.”
Elijah pretended to peek under Sadie’s prayer covering.
Their sister Josie had put it up in a bun early that morning.
She used extra bobby pins, knowing Sadie’s running around, chasing animals, and climbing trees would likely knock it loose by the end of the day.
“Your bun looks plenty gut to me.”
He made a show of peering at her sneakers.
“Your shoes are tied. Gut job.”
“Danki.
I’m supposed to tell you something.”
She curtsied deeply, then proceeded to drop her backpack on the ground so she could dig around in a pocket on the front.
Matilda apparently didn’t like being disturbed.
She wiggled from the bag, hopped out, and hightailed it for the house.
Unperturbed, Sadie held out a plastic bag filled with crumbling oatmeal raisin cookies.
She’d been known to stockpile them when Mom wasn’t looking. “Want an eppy? I share.”
“Nee.
I’m gut, but I appreciate the offer.”
Elijah hid his smile.
“What were you supposed to tell me? Does Mamm know you’re eating her eppies?”
“Nee.
Ach.
That’s what I was supposed to tell you.”
“What?”
“Railing on the steps to the store is loose, and so is one of the boards on the steps.
Mamm wants you to fix them before you go to town.”
“Gut thing you figured it out.”
With the rest of the men away on the auction circuit, Elijah was in charge of all chores around the farm that Mom and the girls couldn’t handle.
Josie was handy with numbers and taking care of customers, but she didn’t wield a hammer.
Nor did Mom.
Elijah tickled Sadie’s neck in that spot that always made her giggle.
“I won’t tell Mamm you’re hoarding the eppies again.”
“Danki.”
Still giggling, she spun around twice, curtsied again, then trotted away on short legs.
Slowpoke returned in a leisurely trot.
He liked Sadie, just not the company she kept.
Elijah rolled his eyes at the finicky dog.
“Chicken.
Matilda’s not that bad and you know it. I have to get my tools and do some work for Mamm. Then we’ll head out.”
A few minutes later Elijah had the railing fixed and knelt to work on the loose board with Slowpoke overseeing from his spot on the shaded porch.
Using an elbow, Mom pushed through the door carrying two glasses of what likely was iced tea.
She loomed over Elijah.
“I’m glad Sadie caught you before you headed to town.”
Elijah straightened.
His back complained so he stretched.
“Railing’s taken care of.
I’ll have the step done in a jiffy.”
“No rush.
Most of our customers come by in the morning before it gets too hot.”
Mom held out a glass.
Elijah laid the hammer aside and took it.
She offered him a smile.
“I’m glad you haven’t given up on Bonnie.”
No rhyme or reason to the way his mother’s mind worked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The smile disappeared, replaced with a scowl.
His mother plopped onto a nearby wooden bench next to a handwritten sign that read Handcrafted bench $95.
Inquire inside.
“Suh, I’m your mudder.”
“And I’m a grown man.”
Elijah gulped down half of the tea.
He set the glass aside.
Perspiration trickled down his back and tickled his spine.
He grabbed the hammer and pounded a nail into the loose board with more force than necessary.
“Pound away.
I know you can hear me.”
Mom’s voice did carry over the hammering, but it seemed disrespectful to continue.
With an exaggerated sigh, Elijah stopped.
“I figured you haven’t given up if you’re still visiting her at the shop.”
“I’m a vendor at Homespun Handicrafts.
I’m just restocking my wares.”
“Uh-huh.”
Elijah leaned back on his haunches.
“I’m done here.
I’d better get going.”
“If she’s the one for you, she’ll come around.”
“How do I know if she’s the one?”
Elijah rested his knees on the step.
He pulled his hat off and wiped his forehead on his sleeve.
“It’s not like I have experience with such things.”
“Her mamm and I talk.”
Moms would be moms.
No getting around it.
“I’m sure you do, but it’s talk you should keep to yourself.”
“We compare notes.
There’s no harm in that.”
The harm came in making plans and sticking their noses in other people’s business, even when those people were their adult children—especially when they were their children.
“Mamm, you have a problem.
You need to sit with the deacon.”
“I do not have a problem.”
The way his mother drew out the word signified Elijah had hit a nerve.
“I care about my kinner.
I want them to be happy.”
“What about getting in the way of Gott’s plan for your kinner?”
“I would never.”
“Maybe you already have.
Jocelyn too.
You said yourself if Bonnie is the one, she’ll come around.”
“And she will.
I just don’t want you to miss it because you’re busy being a dumkoph.”
“I go to the shop.
I take my toys.
I say hallo.
I smile.
I eat muffins and drink kaffi.”
Elijah shoved the hammer and nails into his toolbox.
“You know what she does?”
“Nee. What?”
“She smiles at the vendor from Burkeville who brought in a pile of poorly made wooden puzzles.”
Sure, she smiled at everyone who approached the counter—customers or vendors.
Just less so with Elijah.
“They spent twenty minutes talking about crossword puzzles and their favorite dictionaries.”
“You sound peeved.
Is it possible you were jealous because you don’t like words?”
“I like words fine.”
“As long as you don’t have to use them.”
“I barely get a nod when I come in the door and half a wave when I leave.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that she may be regretting her decision to keep you at arm’s length?”
That he should be so blessed.
She could barely look at him.
Elijah stood.
“She sure has a funny way of showing it.”
“She doesn’t know how to walk back her words.”
Mom took the sign and propped it against the bench’s arm.
She patted the seat.
“Sit with me.
The shop is open all day.
She’ll be there until it closes.”
“I don’t know much about courting or women.
Maybe I went about it all wrong.”
He sat at the other end of the bench.
“Maybe I should take a hint and bow out.”
“That’s your hochmut talking.”
“Nee, it’s my heart talking.
It’s still sore from the last time she said nee.”
“Have you lost your nerve, then?”
“I wish it were that simple.
My heart won’t leave me alone.
It keeps saying I pushed too hard.
That I should slow down and take my time.
Give her time. Maybe I’ll grow on her so much she won’t be able to stop herself from wanting more than friendship.”
“Huh.”
Mom contemplated her dishpan hands for a few seconds.
“That’s not a bad plan.”
“That sounds an awful lot like you think I know what I’m doing.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but you do surprise me.”
“I’ll take it.
With all the other kinner you have, I’m surprised anything can surprise you.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Mom scooted closer.
Looking oh so satisfied with herself, she patted Elijah’s arm.
“I was surprised when you called an auction.
I was surprised when you stood up to your dat.
I’m surprised at how you stand up to me. You’ve grown up. You’ll make a fine mann.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Are you ready for what that’ll mean with Bonnie?”
No need to pretend he didn’t know what she meant. “I am.”
“You know we’ll always be here to help out.”
“Danki.
If my plan works, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“When it works.
From where I sit, it looks like you’re well on your way.”
She stood, picked up his glass, and headed for the door.
“I’d better get back to work.
You’d better get into town.
Remember, just bide your time and pick the right moment.
Bonnie won’t be able to resist.”
“Gott willing.”
“Gott willing.”