Friendship Bread (49 page)

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. I just didn’t want to miss you before you left.” The woman is slightly out of breath. “I’m Julia Evarts and this is my daughter, Gracie. We’re neighbors of your parents. We were so sorry to hear of your father’s passing. He was a kind man.”

“Thank you.” Rosa feels like crying again. “Thank you,” she says again, not sure what else to say. What else is there to say?

“If you need any help with anything, please let me know. Anything.” Julia reaches through the open window to gently touch Rosa’s arm. “I wrote down my name and contact information, as well as the names and numbers for all the immediate neighbors. You probably already know this but I thought it might help to have it all in one place.”

Rosa just nods.

“And …” Julia turns and motions to her daughter, who shyly holds up a plate. “We just baked this and Gracie wanted to share some with you. It’s Amish Friendship Bread.”

“Amish Friendship Bread?” Jack leans over Rosa to accept the plate, sparing Rosa the need to do anything. Everything, he knows, is hard for her right now. “We love it. Rosa makes it all the time. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Rosa echoes, and forces herself to smile at them. She glances at the note stuck to the top of the plastic wrap.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT
.

Julia and Gracie wave as Jack puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the curb. The vibration of the truck soothes Rosa, who hadn’t expected to run into people who knew her father, hadn’t expected that she would have to talk to anyone. Their kindness, as well meaning as it is, only reminds her that he is gone.

She had talked to her father just last week, and he had sounded fine. Two days later, he died peacefully in his sleep. It does comfort Rosa to know this, but still she wishes she could have hugged him one
last time. The last time she saw him, he had protested the amount of food she’d brought. Roast chicken, beef stew, lasagna, casseroles, soups. She knew he loved her banana bread, and there was a round of Amish Friendship Bread circulating in her office for the umpteenth time, so she brought some of that. She had a bag of starter with her so she could bake while she was here, and on the day they left, he had asked her to leave a bag for him. Rosa was surprised, not figuring her father for a baker.

Her parents didn’t raise her to have regrets, but she can’t help it. She wishes she saw more of him. She wishes she had a chance to say goodbye, had a chance to hear him impart some wisdom that she could carry with her for the rest of her life—a final, lasting memory. More than anything she wishes he wasn’t alone when he died. But Jack’s job kept them in Grand Rapids, and her father refused to leave Avalon. Rosa knows it’s because her mother is buried here. And now, her father is, too.

“I saw a place when we were driving in,” Jack says. “It’s not too far away. Want to try it?”

She offers a small smile. “Sure.” She should be hungrier given all the work they’ve done, but she doesn’t have much of an appetite. Still, she needs to keep her strength up. The last round of IVF worked, and Rosa is officially seven weeks pregnant.

Jack glances at her, then at the plate resting in her lap. He’s thinking the same thing. “Maybe you should have a little something now since it’ll take awhile to order and everything.”

Rosa nods then peels back the plastic wrap. It’s still warm, a comfort. She feeds a piece to Jack and then to herself, relaxing at the moist, familiar taste of cinnamon and sugar. She carefully tucks the plastic wrap back under the bottom of the plate, turning the plate over slightly as she does so. Her eyes widen when she sees what’s printed on the underside, the last words.

Forget-Me-Not
.

“Oh!”

Jack turns and sees Rosa staring at the plate, then at Jack, her eyes shining. “What?”

Rosa holds up the plate but Jack doesn’t know what he’s looking at, just some slices of Amish Friendship Bread on a china dish with small flowers.

“What?” he says again, confused.

She shakes her head, suddenly happy, her fingers tracing the outline of the flowers. She doesn’t say anything else.

Jack is used to this, and he just reaches for his wife’s hand, brings it to his lips for a kiss. “I love you, Rosa.”

“I know.” Her eyes are wet but she’s smiling. Rosa leans against him and he hears her sigh, feels her body relax next to his.

It’s a short drive to the lunch place, a quaint house with an engraved sign out front.

MADELINE’S TEA SALON
HOME OF THE AMISH FRIENDSHIP BREAD CLUB

AMISH FRIENDSHIP BREAD STARTER

Amish Friendship Bread starter is passed from one friend or neighbor to another, usually in a Ziploc bag or ceramic container. It’s an actual sourdough starter, meaning that if you continue to feed it over time, it will become more flavorful and distinct. You can use the starter for loaves, muffins, brownies … even pancakes! If you haven’t received a bag of Amish Friendship Bread starter but would like to experiment, here is the recipe for creating a starter.

BASIC RECIPE FOR AMISH FRIENDSHIP BREAD
Makes 2 loaves

This basic recipe has been circulating in the United States for more than three decades. I’m including it as it was given to me, minus the occasional misspelling. You don’t have to wait an additional ten days to bake—on the day that you split the starter (Day Ten), you can bake with the remaining batter instead of saving a bag for yourself. If you plan to gift your starter, don’t forget to include a copy of the instructions along with the dates for Day Six and Day Ten. You can download the instructions from our website,
friendshipbreadkitchen.com
.

NOTE:
Do not refrigerate the starter. It is normal for the batter to rise and ferment. If air gets in the bag, let it out. DO NOT use a metal spoon or bowl for mixing as it will interfere with the fermenting process.

REMEMBER
: If you keep a starter for yourself, you will be baking in 10 days. The bread is very good and makes a great gift.

Should this recipe not be passed on to a friend on the first day, make sure to tell them which day it is when you present it to them.

SIMPLE AMISH FRIENDSHIP BREAD VARIATIONS

The following variations are made up of simple substitutions—feel free to make up your own! To make muffins instead of loaves, reduce baking time to 20–25 minutes. Fill loaf pans or muffin tins one-half to two-thirds full (if you have an eager new starter, I’d recommend only filling to one-half).