Chapter 7
— chapter seven
Alone in the kitchen again, Jeremy covered the leftover pasta with a sheet of foil and put it in the refrigerator. Then he washed and dried his father’s supper dish and put it away. Turned off the kerosene light in the dining room.
They were mindless chores. Things he’d done hundreds of times. Back when his brothers were still home and their mother was alive, everyone had taken it upon themselves to boss him around. He’d resented it.
Now, he realized, all that instruction had been to his benefit. He could now easily tend to the animals in the barn, make simple meals, and wash a load of laundry without much thought. He liked being a competent adult. No longer did he expect to be thanked or recognized.
When he was out in the “real” world, he was always surprised when someone expected to be thanked for something that needed to be done. He thought seeking recognition was a waste of time and energy.
Was it the Amish way? Or had it been his father who’d taught him that?
No. It was Mamm.
Standing at the sink, his hands in soapy water as he tackled the last of the day’s cups and saucers, Jeremy allowed himself to think of her. Just like always, conjuring up his mother’s smile or the soft lines that formed around her eyes when she was happy pinched a bit.
He figured those memories likely always would.
It was worth it, though, because right behind the sting of grief was a wealth of happy memories to savor. Oh, how his mother used to tease the lot of them, saying it wasn’t fair that she had been blessed with four strapping, hungry boys and not a single daughter.
Looking back, Jeremy supposed she had a point.
When they were young, not only had he and his older brothers done their best to eat her out of house and home but they’d been little to no help with the dishes and laundry.
Come to think of it, neither had their father.
He always said he had to work harder than most to make sure enough food was on their table.
However, right around when Kurt was thirteen, Mamm had enough of her servitude. One evening, right in the middle of supper, she stood up, got a fresh sheet of paper from the kitchen, and passed out their new lists of chores.
It had been a surprise. Even their father seemed to be taken aback.
Then, right on the heels of that moment of shocked silence, Kurt and Russell started to complain.
They’d been at the age where a lot of their friends were already working out in the fields or doing the majority of the work in the barn.
Then Kurt made a bad mistake. “I need something different on my sheet, Mamm. Washing dishes is woman’s work,” he declared.
Jeremy could still hear Kurt’s puffed-up voice in his head. Clear as day.
Before their father had a chance to intervene, Mamm put a stop to that.
Their usually mild-mannered mother had turned into a cross between Wonder Woman and the Wicked Witch of the West. “If you can eat, then you can wash a dish, Kurtis Keim,” she’d declared.
“And that goes for the rest of you too.” She’d picked up a wooden spoon and glared at the rest of them.
“Anyone else want to tell me what is women’s work? ”
As he put the last of the silverware in the sink, Jeremy chuckled out loud. Her tone had been like ice, and her eyes had practically shot fire. Even Kurt had gone pale.
“Nee,” Trip had choked out.
Then, as they all stared at her, she continued in a voice as crisp as a drill sergeant’s. “From now on, you four will stop complaining about helping with your dishes and laundry. Each of you will do your part. Do you understand me?”
The lot of them had frozen. They just stood there and gaped at her.
Boy, but she’d been fit to be tied!
Putting her hands on her hips, she’d repeated, “I said, do you boys understand?”
“Jah, Mamm.”
Jeremy blinked. He’d just said that out loud.
Shaking his head, he drained the water in the sink and thought about how things had changed around the house. They’d started a rotation for chores in the kitchen since their father had reminded Russell and Kurt that the outside chores still needed to be done.
Jeremy, being the youngest, had been in the kitchen the most. That had led to him helping her chop and slice meat and vegetables and then eventually cooking by her side too.
At first it was because there was so much food to prepare. They all had big appetites, and there were moments when it looked like their mother was going to cook them only soup in an effort to make a lot of food without spending hours over the stove.
Eventually, though, he found he enjoyed cooking. He was good at it, and he liked not having to rely on their mother to make something if he was hungry.
After Mamm got sick, he took over most of the cooking. Mamm had been so worried that their father would never eat if there was nothing prepared.
Now it was simply a habit.
It’s also because Becca likes when you bring her food, a little voice inside his head said.
And because he was alone in the kitchen, Jeremy could be honest with himself. He’d lied to Daed. There actually was someone he yearned to court, but he wasn’t sure if they were a good match or not. And because of that, he wanted to keep her a secret a little bit longer.
It wasn’t just because Becca was English either.
Nee, it was a compilation of things. She was English, a senior in high school, and had a very different homelife than he did.
She was struggling in a lot of ways.
Though he hadn’t met her parents, they sounded like nice people.
They sure had hit some hard times, though, and couldn’t seem to get out of them.
Her mother didn’t work, and her father had had an hourly job at a supercenter.
Things had been all right until Becca’s daed slipped and fell on some black ice when he was taking out the trash.
He broke a wrist and did something to his back too.
That led to lots of medical bills, weeks off work, and all their savings being used to fill in the gaps.
Now, even though her father was back at work, he was still in pain, and her mother had started cleaning houses for cash.
Becca had shared that everything in her life had taken a drastic turn.
Her parents were exhausted, and their tempers were short.
And money was so tight that even a trip to the grocery store was a source of stress.
Even though she was a senior, she’d stopped dreaming about college.
No, he corrected himself. It seemed she’d stopped dreaming about a lot of things.
Instead of planning her future or hanging out with her friends, she was working after school at a car wash.
She’d hoped to get a job in a restaurant but so far hadn’t had any luck.
Jeremy still couldn’t believe he’d met her. He’d been with an English buddy at the car wash and started talking to her when his friend ran into someone he knew on the basketball team.
And that was that.
Ever since then, she was in his thoughts. He was so glad he was still in his rumspringa so he had a cell phone. Also, that he was allowed to charge it using the generator in the barn. He’d be lost if he couldn’t talk to her every day.
After listening for his father down the hall and hearing nothing, Jeremy went to the hearth room and closed the door. The fire was still going, and both the heat and light it provided were welcome.
Glad to finally have the chance to hear her voice, he clicked on her number. She answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, Jeremy.”
And just like that, a little bit of his worry for her eased. “Hi. I was worried you weren’t going to pick up. Where are you?”
“I’m walking home from work. The phone was in my back pocket. I had to dig it out from under my coat.”
Her voice had a note of humor in it, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “It’s after seven. Isn’t that kind of late for a car wash to be open?” Of course, that wasn’t what he’d really wanted to ask. What he really wanted to know was why she was walking home in the dark.
No, what he really wanted was to be the one who was walking by her side. “Who are you with?”
“With?”
“Yeah. I mean. Are you alone?”
“Whoa. What’s with all the questions?”
He winced. “Sorry. I’m just concerned. Are you alone?”
“I am. Why?”
Because he would’ve been jealous otherwise. And because he didn’t like her walking alone in the dark. “It’s getting dark outside. Cold too.”
“I’m fine.”
“Jah, but I’m still gonna worry about ya.”
Her voice warmed. “Jeremy Keim, I love it when you get your Amish on.”
“Ha ha.” What he loved was that Becca loved something about him.
“I’m serious. It’s cute.”
Finally relaxing on the couch, he snorted. “Pennsylvania Dutch is my first language, you know. Speaking it ain’t cute. It’s normal.”
“I know it’s your first language, but when you mix up your words, using a little bit of English and a little bit of Penn Dutch, it is cute. At least it is to me.”
“I’ll try not to be offended,” he teased.
“You shouldn’t. It’s a compliment.” Her voice turned soft. “We’re so different, Jeremy. I can’t believe we have so much to talk about.”
“We’re not that different. We’re right around the same age.”
“There’s more differences than that, and you know it.”
“I don’t want to think about that.” Before she could point out more reasons for them not to see each other, he added, “How far away from home are you now?”
“Um, I don’t know. Maybe ten minutes?”
He needed to keep her on the phone at least that long. “Hey, how’s your friend Cass? Is she still fighting with her boyfriend?”
“I can’t believe you remembered me telling you about that.”
He remembered pretty much everything she told him. No way would he say that, though. “Cass’s story was hard to forget.”
She giggled. “What, no Amish girl is going to cause a scene in the middle of a high school hallway because she got jealous?”
He couldn’t imagine it, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “I guess it’s possible.” He grinned, loving that she had a bit of fire in her voice. He hated when she sounded cold and tired.
“Really?”
He pretended to be affronted. “What, do you really think Amish girls don’t get jealous?”
“I guess they probably do.”
“They do.” Taking a chance, he added, “Just like Amish guys get jealous too.”
“What are you saying?”
He’d give anything if he could see her face. Then he would know if Becca was joking, merely curious, or there was something else that she was thinking—he didn’t know, like maybe hoping he would ever get jealous over her?
Keeping his voice low and slow, he replied, “All I’m saying is that just because I’m not living with electricity doesn’t mean we feel different things.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
After releasing a drawn-out sigh, Becca’s voice got quieter. “Yeah, well, the way things are going, one of these days I’m pretty sure we’re going to be living without electricity too.”
“How come?” he blurted before the obvious answer occurred to him. Before she could respond, he added, “Sorry I asked that.”
“Hey, if you’re surprised that my parents are having a tough time paying the energy bill, you’re not the only one.”
“How can I help you?” He had lots of money in his savings account. Helping her with a bill wouldn’t be a problem.
“Maybe . . . can we see each other soon?”
“Of course. I mean, I’ll need to see when I can get away.”
“What about next Sunday?”
“Sunday?”
“Yeah. Like in the afternoon?” She sounded anxious.
“What do you want to do?” Yeah, his voice was hesitant, but all he could think about was what he could tell his daed.
“You sound weird. Don’t worry about it.” She was hurt.
“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I . . . I just don’t know where you want to meet.”
“I could come over. Cass could drop me off or something.”
If she came over, it was going to cause an uproar in his family. Not because she was English but because she was his girlfriend and he’d been keeping her a secret. “I’m going to have to see if that’s okay with my daed,” he hedged.
“Why wouldn’t it be? I thought you said you didn’t have to do a bunch of chores and stuff after church.” She sounded guarded now. Worried.
“I don’t. But I need to just be sure he’s okay with me having someone over.” He closed his eyes. He sounded like a little kid. And a liar. Which he was.
He mentally kicked himself. Becca was walking home at night in the dark and worrying about her parents’ bills. He needed to step up. “Becca, the truth is that I haven’t told mei daed about you.”
“Really? You haven’t told him that you’ve been calling me every night? And that we’ve been seeing each other once a week?”
“I haven’t told him anything.”
“Oh. I see.” She inhaled, which kind of sounded like she had a frog in her throat.
His sister-in-law Mary had sounded just like that when she’d started crying last Christmas. Jeremy felt even worse. He blurted, “Hey, let’s plan on you coming over on Sunday afternoon. I’ll—”
“Figure out how to tell your father about me?” she finished. “Thanks, but don’t bother.”
“It’s not a bother,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’m almost home. I better go.”
And then she was gone.
She’d hung up on him because he was a coward. Hating himself right then, he dialed her phone again. She didn’t answer.
Or when he tried her again.
Or when he called again ten minutes later.
He’d really messed things up.
When he texted her an hour later to see if she got home okay, Becca did answer, but her reply said it all.
Don’t worry about me. I’m used to taking care of myself.
His finger hovered over the letters on his screen, ready to type a reply.
But he had no idea how to respond.
No idea at all.