Loving Jenna Page 5

  “Don’t go in the kitchen unless you want to have to use the sanitizer. Hannah is in there with the baby.”

  Jonathan turned around and headed toward the front door.

  “Where are you going?” Buddy asked.

  “Susannah’s,” Jonathan mumbled, then let himself out. The screen slammed behind him with a satisfying whack.

  Buddy smiled and headed up the stairs. Two things were plainly visible. Jonathan liked the sound of the screen door slamming too, and he hated the smell of the sanitizer just as much as Buddy did.

  * * *

  He couldn’t get the thought out of his head. Not for the rest of that day. Nor all day Saturday. Even Sunday morning when he first woke up. God’s plan was floating through his thoughts.

  He and Jenna had met because God had wanted them to. And now she was coming over for a picnic. Sunday afternoon visiting could last all day. He might get to spend the entire day with Jenna.

  So he had already gotten himself a dog. He still had room in his life for a girlfriend. Maybe, anyway. Not that he and Jenna could be boyfriend and girlfriend. Jonah would say that he was getting way ahead of himself. But out of all the girls and women in Wells Landing, the one most likely to be his girlfriend was Jenna Burkhart. Jennifer Abigail Burkhart. And he was going to spend time with her today.

  He got up and made his bed as quickly as he could. Now that Jonah and Sarah were in their own house, Buddy had a room all to himself. The first few nights he had stayed there all by himself he had hated it, but it had been a little over a year and he had gotten used to it. A sure sign that a person could get used to almost anything if they tried hard enough.

  Aaron and Jonathan still shared a bedroom, but it wouldn’t be long until Aaron moved out. Once he finally married Mary Ebersol. Then Jonathan would find a bride for himself and take over the farm the way the youngest sons of Amish families were prone to do. Mamm and Dat would move into the dawdihaus and Buddy would live there in his room forever. With PJ.

  Maybe Jonathan wouldn’t have the same rules as Mamm and he would allow PJ to sleep at the foot of Buddy’s bed. It was about the cheeriest thought he had, so he changed into his clothes and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

  Jenna. Yes, that was a much better thought than living with Jonathan until Jesus came back. Not that he didn’t love Jonathan. He did. But there were some things that didn’t put joy in a person’s heart. That was one of them.

  But not Jenna. He peered into the mirror as her name came to mind and he thought he saw a light gleam in his eyes. Just the thought of her changed him. That was joy. Big joy.

  And if the thought of her gave him that much joy, he should make sure he looked extra nice for the day.

  He glanced down at his shirt. There was a stain on the front. Sort of greenish and long. Probably mustard that Mamm didn’t get out. It seemed to Buddy that Mamm got the mustard stains out of Aaron’s shirts, but not Buddy’s. Jonathan’s too. Neither one of his younger brothers went around with stains on their shirts. And Jonah hadn’t either. Not even when he lived at home and shared a room with Buddy.

  He shook his head at himself. He would have to be more careful with his laundry. Make sure he told Mamm that he wanted her to take better care of stains when they popped up on his shirts and such.

  Buddy hustled across the hall, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He would have to find a better shirt. One without stains on it. He couldn’t meet with Jenna with food stains on his clothes. It took three tries, but he found a shirt that had no stains. Probably because it was a dark, dark, blue. It was all right though. His pants were the kind that looked like blue jeans but were really barn-door pants with matching suspenders attached. The two looked good together.

  “Buddy,” Mamm called from downstairs.

  “Jah?”

  “Breakfast is ready. Come eat.”

  He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror once again. Thankfully he had shaved the day before so he didn’t have to do that again today. Sometimes he could go three whole days without even thinking about shaving.

  But his hair.

  He had what his mother called a cowlick. He wasn’t sure what that meant except that he had a lock of hair that went an entirely different direction than all the other hair on his head. This of course made it stand straight up in the air. Usually he was wearing a hat, and that covered it, but if Jenna came into the house and they sat down and talked like courting couples did, he would have to take off his hat and she would laugh at the spot where the cow had licked his hair.

  He had asked his mamm if she could get the same cow to lick his hair back into the direction that it went, but she had only smiled at him and patted his cheek. She told him that lock of hair was just another part of what made him so special.

  But Buddy didn’t want to be special.

  He wet his comb and tried to make the spot lie down. He smoothed it flat, but as soon as he removed the comb it sprang back into its rebellious place. He did it three more times before Mamm called from downstairs.

  “Buddy! Get down here.”

  “Yes, Mamm.” But he couldn’t go down looking like this. “Coming.” But that wasn’t the truth.

  He opened the medicine cabinet and searched for something to tame his hair into place. But aside from an extra tube of toothpaste and everyone-who-used-that-bathroom-in-the-morning’s deodorant, there was only a bottle of baby lotion.

  Wait. Didn’t girls use that to smooth their hair to keep it in place? And that was why girls always smelled like babies even if they didn’t have one.

  That would do the trick.

  He squeezed out a big glob of the pink lotion and coated his cowlick hair with it. Maybe he had gotten too much. He wiped his hand on the hand towel next to the sink and wiped what he couldn’t get off on the seat of his pants.

  “Buddy! Everyone is waiting for you.”

  Everyone but Dat, he thought. If his dat were hungry he would be the one coming up the stairs after him and not his mamm.

  “Just a minute,” Buddy said, searching for some excuse as to what he was doing without giving himself away. “I woke up with a bellyache.” And now he was lying.

  “Are you all right?” His mother’s voice went from annoyed to worried in a single instant.

  “I am. Don’t come up. I may be here a while.” That part wasn’t exactly a lie. He tried to comb through the mess of lotion on his hair and all it did was slightly weigh down the sprig of hair and make little pink trenches in it. Now, instead of sticking straight up it sort of waved when he nodded his head. He nodded to try it out.

  Nope. He couldn’t have that. It was all or nothing. He either needed to get it to lie down or allow it to stand up, though the last one wasn’t something he would be able to accept either.

  “We’re starting without you,” Mamm said. “Everyone else needs to eat. Come down when you feel better.”

  “I will.” He combed it down again. This time the lotion caked in his comb and the sprig of hair shot upward as if reaching for the ceiling.

  It wasn’t going to lie down. He had never been able to get it to lie down before. Maybe he should have thought about this yesterday or the day before, but he had been too busy thinking about God’s plan for them all.

  He supposed that a person could argue that his strange hair was part of God’s plan for him, but he wasn’t entirely convinced that God planned those sorts of things. He might know when a sparrow fell from the sky, but Buddy had a feeling cowlicks were an entirely different matter.

  Maybe there was something in one of the drawers. He opened the one on the left and rifled through it. Prudy’s extra hair accessories, a pair of scissors, and a shower cap. The drawer on the right wasn’t much better. He wasn’t sure when was the last time he looked in there.

  Maybe one of her bobby pins, but that would show. Even more than the blob of lotion that was spread there. Only one thing to do. If it wouldn’t lie down, it was going to have to go. Buddy picked up the sciss
ors and made one concise snip.

  Chapter Five

  “You sure took a long while getting ready this morning,” Mammi said.

  Jenna sat next to Mammi in the front seat of the buggy as she drove them to the Millers’ house. Mamm was sitting in the back seat holding on to what would be their contribution to the meal that day. A large coconut cake, a pan of yummasetti, and a basket full of yeast rolls. They were Jenna’s favorite. All of them. She would be hard pressed not to eat too much today. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.

  She just wished that the weather had turned out nicer. Thick dark clouds blocked the sun and threatened rain on their picnic. Mamm would say it was about the getting together, not the where of the getting together. Sometimes when she said things like that it took Jenna a minute to understand, and this time was no different. But she figured out that her mamm was saying that going to visit was more important than the weather, and if they couldn’t have a picnic then they would do something else. But she was disappointed with the idea. She had been looking forward to it. At least she would still get to see Buddy again.

  Jenna smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in her apron and managed not to look Mammi in the eyes as she answered. “Just wanted to make sure I was presentable today.”

  Mammi snickered. “This from the girl who is hard-pressed to brush her hair out every day.”

  Jenna’s hands flew to her head. “I always brush my hair out every day.” Well, here lately she did. She had made it a point. Ever since . . . well, ever since last Sunday when she first talked to Buddy Miller.

  Suddenly the things that she was supposed to do made sense. All the brushing of the hair when no one was going to see. Brushing her teeth at night. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere. And starching her fer gut apron on a beautiful Sunday morning.

  But she glanced behind to see if Mamm was paying attention. Thankfully she wasn’t. Jenna didn’t think she could take teasing from the both of them. They meant well, she knew, but this was important, and she didn’t want anyone poking fun at it.

  “It’s good to get out today, jah?” Mammi said. It wasn’t really a question. Jenna had learned that a long time ago. It was the way Mamm and Mammi told her how things would or should be. They wanted her to get out today and visit with new people in the community. So they told her how good it was. It didn’t matter if she agreed or not. They were always making decisions like that. And she had let them, but she wasn’t sure she was willing to do that much longer. She was twenty years old. Almost twenty-one. She should be allowed to make a few decisions for herself. Especially ones like whether or not it was a good day to be out.

  “Jah,” she said. Because it really was. Not because she was told to think so. It was double good because in just a little bit she would get to see Buddy Miller again.

  She should have written down all the questions she wanted to ask him. Now that she was actually on her way to his house, she was a bit nervous and even more excited, and all those questions were flying around inside her head, slippery, like someone had coated them with grease and turned them loose.

  “I know we met the Miller children at church,” Mammi mused. “I remember someone saying, but I don’t remember any of them.”

  “Buddy.” The word was out of her mouth and hanging in the air between them before she even had a chance to think about the cost of saying it.

  Mammi shot her a sideways look. “Oh, jah?”

  Jenna nodded. She had already said it. There was no taking it back now.

  “I met Buddy at the singing. He’s nice. And Jonathan. He was there.” She said the last to keep Mammi from getting suspicious.

  “Seems like the Millers have quite a few young boys in their family.”

  Jenna shrugged and tried to make it seem as unimportant as possible. “I guess. I wouldn’t know. Two isn’t so many, is it? Though there could be more.”

  Mammi glanced her way again. Jenna shrugged, hoping the action looked normal and not as forced as it seemed. She felt like she had been put under a glass dome, like the twirling clock Mammi kept on the mantel. Everyone could see her from every angle. There was no place for her to hide.

  “Jenna.” Mammi’s voice was soft, gentle, and had lost all its teasing quality. “You know that I believe you are such a special girl.”

  Jenna hated when sentences started out that way. It only meant that she wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

  “But you’re different than most.”

  “I know.” Jenna tried to look bored, but she wasn’t sure she had succeeded.

  At any rate, Mammi continued as Jenna wondered how long it would be before they got to the Millers’ house. That was the biggest problem with moving to a new place. She never knew how long it was going to take to get somewhere.

  “Boys . . .” Mammi started once again, but stopped and cleared her throat. “Men who are looking for a wife need a woman who can take care of a house and a family. It’s the woman’s job to support her husband and care for their family so that he can go out and work. Do you understand that?”

  Jenna nodded. How could she not? They had explained it to her countless times.

  “Those men need a wife whose brain works in every way. You understand?”

  For the first time in her life she did. She really did. “You’re saying I won’t ever get married.” Her words fell flat.

  “It’s a shame, but most likely not.”

  There were those words again, such a shame. But they didn’t sting nearly as bad as the rest of what she said. Mammi thought she would never get married. No man would have her. She was incomplete.

  * * *

  Buddy watched from the window in his family’s front room as the carriage pulled up. Like everyone else in Wells Landing, the Burkharts drove a horse and buggy on Sundays, as was required. Even on non-church Sundays. He took a deep breath as Jenna jumped down from the buggy, then he raced outside to help the ladies bring in the food they had brought. He had made himself wait to go out, not wanting to appear too anxious to see her again. But he was.

  She turned around as he got close and the expression on her face made him stop right there in his tracks.

  “Jenna?” He couldn’t tell if she was angry or sad or something else, but he could tell from the clouds in her eyes that something was wrong. There weren’t really clouds in her eyes, but they had lost their sparkle and it was the best way he could think to describe them.

  In an instant her face changed, she smiled, but her eyes remained the same.

  Whatever was bothering her, she didn’t want him to know.

  The thought saddened him. He thought they had a better friendship than that.

  You big dummy. You’ve made this more than it is in your own mind. Quit making up a relationship and see what happens when you actually talk to the girl. That’s what Jonah would say. All but the big dummy part. Buddy had added that himself.

  “I came to help you bring in your stuff.”

  She nodded, that weird smile still on her lips.

  “Young man,” her mother called from the back of the buggy.

  “Can you help Mamm out first?” she asked. Her grandmother was already around on the other side of the carriage pulling out plastic containers.

  “Of course.” He went to the side of the buggy and helped her mother to the ground.

  “Why are you riding in the back?” He asked the question without thinking first and immediately wished he could call it back. It was none of his business, but it seemed strange that a mamm would sit on the back seat while her daughter rode in the front.

  “She didn’t trust me to keep the cake from spilling on the floor.” Jenna’s smile wavered a bit.

  Was that what she was angry about? Was she angry?

  “You have a history of inattention.” Her mother smoothed down her apron and the sides of her prayer covering.

  “One time.” Jenna held up her pointy finger to back up her words.

  “And one time too many.”
Her mother smiled, but he could tell that her words stung Jenna. Then the woman fetched something from the back of the buggy and handed it to him. It was still warm. “The yeast rolls,” she explained. “I trust you can handle the responsibility.”

  “Jah.” Buddy nodded. Was Jenna’s mother always like this?

  “I’ll get the cake,” her mamm said. Buddy thought her name was Charlotte, but he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe it was something that sounded like Charlotte, but he couldn’t think of a name that rhymed. “Go on,” she said as he lingered there.

  He glanced back at Jenna. Her grandmother had already gone into the house. And apparently there were only three items to be taken in. So Jenna was just standing there, empty-handed and lonely looking. Buddy wanted to take her hand and lead her into the house, but he was afraid if he only had a one-handed grip on the rolls that he might drop them. He looked to Charlotte. He wasn’t sure it was worth the risk.

  “Follow me,” he said to Jenna, but didn’t look back as he started for the house.

  She stayed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen where the family had already gathered. Prudy, his little sister, and Jonathan, his brother, along with his mother and father. The rest of the Miller clan were off with their own families. Hannah was with her husband, and Jonah with his wife. Aaron wasn’t married yet, but he was visiting with Mary Ebersol. Buddy was pretty sure they would get married in a year or so. Maybe. They had been dating forever it seemed.

  It had been threatening to rain all morning and the plan for a picnic had shifted to the indoors. Mamm had spread the red-and-white checked tablecloth, which they used when they had actual picnics, across the table. It was festive and familiar, but he really wanted to go outside to eat.

  “It’s not raining,” he pointed out as he set the container of rolls on the table. They smelled so good, his mouth was beginning to water.

  Mamm didn’t bother to turn from her place at the counter. She was slicing cheese and meat. He had wanted her to make something special, like fried chicken and smashed potatoes, but she refused, stating that it was Sunday and a day of rest. He supposed that frying chicken and smashing potatoes was a little too close to work for his mamm. He had tried not to be disappointed. Mamm didn’t usually make a big meal on Sundays. None of the Amish women he knew cooked big meals on Sundays. But he was still a little sad.