Blessings (10 page)

Trina rounded the corner toward the park and heard laughter. She slowed her steps, turning her ear toward the various voices drifting across the warm summer breeze. The high-pitched giggle belonged to Darcy Kauffman. Wherever one found Darcy, Michelle Lapp was nearby. Michelle had acted sweet on Graham’s best friend, Walt Martin, for quite some time, and Walt had recently begun responding, so that masculine rumble no doubt came from Walt’s throat.

Previously the café had kept Trina too busy in the evenings to spend much time with friends. Now, studying for her GED had curtailed her social time. The thought of catching a few minutes of chatting with Michelle, Darcy, and Walt sped her feet, and she headed around the side of the general merchandise store with a smile on her face.

“Hello!” she called, and the group at the picnic table turned. Her smile faltered when she realized Graham was with the others.

He leaped up from the table, where he’d been sitting next to Darcy. “Trina. . .” The word sputtered on his tongue. Then, seeming to pull himself together, he gestured toward the table. “Come join us. Michelle was telling us about her cousin’s trip to the Kansas City zoo and the antics of the chimpanzees.”

Trina stopped several feet away from the table. She hugged the book and stack of crumpled papers tight to her pounding heart. “No, I—I can’t. Mama’s expecting me. I just wanted to pick a few daisies.”

“I’ll help you.” Graham strode toward her, his hands outstretched. “Let me take those so you can pick flowers.”

She shook her head, backing away from him. “No. That’s okay.”

Darcy turned around on the bench, peering at the items in Trina’s arms. “What have you got there? A new book?”

Reading was a favorite pastime of the Old Order young people, and they often shared new purchases with one another. But Trina knew she wouldn’t share this one. She shouldn’t have come this way. “Yes, but it’s not—not anything you’d enjoy.” She hoped Darcy would take her word for it and not ask to see the math textbook.

Graham looked down at her, his expression unreadable. Trina begged him with her eyes to keep silent. He offered a barely discernible nod. Turning back to the group at the table, he said, “Daisies are thickest over against the Feed and Seed’s west wall. Hope your mother enjoys the bouquet.”

Trina swallowed, called a good-bye, and hurried off. As she picked a handful of the cheerful flowers, she listened to the laughing conversation at the table. Beth’s question replayed in her mind:
“Is it worth it?”
Her heart heavy, she discovered the answer didn’t come as easily as she would have preferred.

T
EN

O
ut of the corner of his eye, Graham watched Trina head down the sidewalk toward her house. Just seeing her created a lonely ache in his chest. Darcy and Michelle jabbered away, unaware how little he cared about their endless prattle. The only voice he wanted to hear was Trina’s, but she’d just told him his assistance wasn’t needed.

In other words,
Go away
.

He never would have thought anything would come between him and Trina, but something had.
Lord, why’d I have to fall in love with her? It’s not supposed to be this hard
. He sighed.

Walt clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, didn’t you hear her?”

Graham jerked his gaze to Walt. “What?”

Walt laughed. “Michelle just said her mom’s got a key lime pie in the refrigerator. We’re heading over there to have a piece. You coming?”

Graham’s favorite, and Mrs. Lapp took no shortcuts when it came to cooking. At fellowship gatherings, good-natured arguments broke out between people vying for the last slice of her pie or a second piece of her cornmeal-coated fried chicken. Graham waited for his mouth to water, but instead he felt as though cotton filled his throat. He shook his head. “That sounds good, but I need to get home.”

Darcy caught his arm. “Are you sure?”

Graham looked into Darcy’s hopeful face. She was a pretty girl with large blue eyes, thick lashes, and sunshiny hair. And she was interested in him—she let him know without being forward. He half wished some sort of feeling would rise up—even a hint of a desire to spend more time with her. But nothing happened. Pulling his lips into a rueful smile, he said, “I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”

Darcy’s hand slipped away. She ducked her head, the white ribbons of her cap bunching against her shoulders. “If you hurry, you could still catch her.”

Graham wasn’t sure he heard correctly. He leaned forward slightly. “What?”

Head still downcast, she shifted her eyes to peer at him through her lashes. “I said, you could still catch her.”

Graham jolted to his feet. Heat filled his face. “I—I—”

Across the table, Michelle tipped her head. “Yes. What happened between you and Trina? I thought for sure you two would be getting published soon, but lately you’re never together.”

Graham grimaced. Darcy at least tried to be tactful. Michelle had always been one to boldly state her opinions—there were times when he thought she belonged more with Trina’s mother than Trina did. Michelle and Darcy waited, their gazes fixed on Graham’s face. He formed an answer. “She’s just. . .busy.” Even to his ears, the excuse was lame, but it was the only thing he could think of.

Darcy and Michelle exchanged looks. Michelle asked, “With what? I understood it when she worked at the café—her mother hardly gave her a moment’s rest. But now? She works in Lehigh and has every evening off. And we still don’t see her. How is she staying so busy?”

Graham couldn’t answer that question truthfully without betraying a confidence. As much as he resented Trina’s choice to pursue a career in veterinary care, he couldn’t bring himself to divulge her secret. He shrugged, forcing a light laugh. “You know Trina. . .always up to something.” He realized his statement pertained more to the old Trina. The girl he fell in love with had been bubbly, full of life. This new one was slowly losing the sparkle. Sadness struck with the thought.

He stepped away from the table, lifting his hand in a wave. “You all enjoy your pie. I’ll see you Sunday in service.”

Before they could say anything else, he hurried down the sidewalk, his heels thudding against the red bricks. Darcy’s comment about catching Trina if he hurried ran through his mind, and of their own volition, his feet sped up. Did he want to catch Trina?

He knew he did. Despite her crazy ideas of going to college and becoming some sort of animal doctor, he still wanted her. Still loved her. He wished he could set the feelings aside, but how did a person turn off love? The whole community still talked about how Henry Braun had remained a bachelor for over twenty years when the girl he loved married someone else. Henry didn’t marry until that girl, widowed, returned to Sommerfeld. Now they were happily married and the proud parents of twins.

Henry Braun had waited two decades to marry the girl of his heart. Wouldn’t Henry say his wife, Marie, had been worth the wait? But Graham was ready to be married now. Waiting for Trina to go to college, get a degree, and spend some time working as a veterinarian seemed interminable. He sucked in a breath of hot air then blew it out with a snort. Henry Braun was a much more patient man than Graham professed to be.

Somehow he needed to get Trina’s focus turned around. Now that she wasn’t working at the café, there shouldn’t be any barriers to spending evenings with her. Maybe he should do what Darcy said— catch up to her, walk her the rest of the way home, go on into the house, and ask permission to take her to the barn party planned at the Kreider farm on Saturday night.

His heart pounded with the thought of having an evening with Trina. Surrounded by their friends, being seen as a couple—the time was just what Trina needed to remember there were other things in life besides taking care of animals. The decision made, he broke into a jog. He caught Trina just as she was walking up her sidewalk.

“Trina!”

She paused at the bottom of the porch steps and turned. Her face didn’t light with pleasure when she saw him, giving him momentary pause, but he refused to let her lack of warmth deter him.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you about the party tomorrow night at Kreiders’.”

She tipped her head, bringing her cheek near the bedraggled cluster of daisies in her fist. “What kind of party?”

“Shucking.” Graham laughed at her grimace. “But the girls will probably do more watching than working.”

“Yes, you boys will want to show off.”

The hint of teasing in her tone encouraged him. “So do you want to go and watch me show off?”

She released a brief giggle then turned her head toward the house. “I’ll need to ask permission.”

“Here.” He took the book and papers from her arms. “Take those flowers in to your mom, ask, and then come let me know the answer.” By taking her belongings, he solved two issues—first, her parents wouldn’t see them; and second, she would have to come back out to get them.

“All right.” She skipped up the steps and entered the house. He heard the mutter of voices through the screened door. The voices drifted away to the back of the house, and still he waited. Finally, Trina returned, her mother on her heels.

Mrs. Muller remained in the doorway. “Graham, what time will the party be over?”

“Early, ma’am. I’d have Trina home by ten o’clock for sure.” With service in the morning, Saturday evening activities never went late.

“Who else is riding with you?”

Graham recognized the woman’s underlying concern—would he and Trina be alone at any time? “I plan to ride out with Walt Martin and Michelle Lapp.”

Trina stood on the edge of the porch, her gaze on her mother. It appeared she held her breath, but Graham wasn’t sure if she was hoping for a positive or a negative response.

Finally, Mrs. Muller gave a brusque nod. “All right. She can go since she’ll be home early and you’ll be in a group. Does she need to bring anything?”

“A snack, if she wants to.”

“She wants to.”

For a moment, sympathy swelled for Trina. Small wonder she kept secrets from her parents. Deborah Muller tended to think for her children, controlling every part of their lives. Another brief thought struck—wasn’t he, too, trying to control Trina? He pushed the thought away and looked at Trina.

“Trina, shall I pick you up at six o’clock?”

Still looking at her mother, Trina replied, “Yes. Six would be fine.” Trina moved back one step from the door. “Mama, I’m going to sit out here with Graham for a little bit.”

Graham’s gaze jerked from Trina to Mrs. Muller. He’d never heard Trina state her intentions before—she always asked. From the look on Deborah Muller’s face, she was as surprised as Graham. For a moment, he feared the woman would yank Trina into the house. But to his surprise, she bobbed her head in one quick nod, her black ribbons jerking with the stiff movement.

“Very well. But you’ve been gone all day. Make it a short visit.” She closed the door before Trina could respond.

Trina sat on the top step of the porch stairs. With a triumphant grin, she patted the spot beside her. “We won’t have much time. Better sit.”

A few uninterrupted minutes with Trina had always been a gift. But for some reason, Graham hesitated. Her sudden change in demeanor made him think of the young woman who ran the stained-glass studio on the edge of town—Beth McCauley. Beth told people what to do rather than asking.

“Or do you need to hurry off?”

The quaver in her voice pulled him forward two feet, but he couldn’t make himself sit. Instead, he held out the math book and stack of lined papers. “I’d like to, but it’s been a long day. And I have to work tomorrow, so I’d better head home.” He put the items into her arms. “I’ll pick you up a little before six tomorrow, okay?”

Her brown eyes looked sad, yet he felt the need to step back and process the subtle change he’d just witnessed. He couldn’t do that sitting beside her—he needed some distance. He almost snorted. For the past two weeks, he’d had nearly constant distance from Trina and had begrudged the time apart. Now he was choosing to separate himself? It didn’t make much sense, yet he still moved backward down the sidewalk.

Still perched on the porch floor with her feet on the bottom riser, she offered a meek nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Graham. Have a good day at work.”

He glanced back before turning the corner toward his own house. She was still sitting there, staring into the gloaming.

“So tell me about your new job, Trina.”

Darcy Kauffman pulled Trina into the corner of the barn, away from the raucous young men who tried to outdo one another in the number of ears shucked per minute. The cheers from the girls added to the din.

Trina normally enjoyed watching Graham—although he worked inside at the lumberyard, he could hold his own against the farmers’ sons, and her heart had always thrilled to his success. Tonight, however, she sensed his displeasure, although no one else would have recognized it, and she welcomed a few moments away from the crowd.

“I like Dr. Groening a lot,” Trina said, leaning against the barn wall and running her fingers along the attached modesty cape of her dress. “He’s very patient, and he lets me watch all of the examinations.”

“Your mother told my mother you’re basically Dr. Groening’s cleaning service.”

Darcy’s words were uttered without a hint of malice, but Trina still cringed. “I suppose that’s true. But I still like it.”

Darcy smiled, leaning closer. “I also heard Graham is teaching you to drive.”

Trina’s jaw dropped. They’d only had one lesson. One unsuccessful lesson ending with a disagreement that had yet to be resolved. “Who told you that?”

Darcy giggled, hunching her shoulders. “Is it true?”

Trina shrugged. “He tried. It didn’t work out very well.”

“Oh.” Darcy sighed, her lips twisting into a pout. “I’m sorry.”

A mighty cheer rose from the group in the center of the barn. Both girls looked toward the gathered group. Walt stood up and waved a red ear over his head. Darcy and Trina shared a snicker—Michelle would be given a kiss before the night was over.

Darcy caught Trina’s hand. “Don’t you wish Graham had found the red ear? Then you and he. . .” Her voice trailed off, her cheeks glowing bright red.

Trina felt heat fill her face, and she was certain she blushed crimson. Many times she’d fantasized about Graham kissing her. But she knew she didn’t want their first kiss to be the result of a chance find in a corn-shucking contest. “No!” She hissed the single word.

Darcy’s eyes widened. “You don’t want him to kiss you?”

Oh, Trina wanted Graham’s kiss. Sometimes she wanted it so badly it frightened her. She closed her eyes and imagined it—a sweet, tender joining of lips. But in her dreams, it always took place on the day they became officially published. Her eyes popped open, her heart skipping a beat. Would they become published if she continued to pursue a degree in veterinary science?