An Amish Second Christmas Page 3

  James stood up. “I know. I have to go now.” He scanned the room. Looking for federal agents? Katherine kept her seat, just in case he tried to hug her. Instead, he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I wish that Elias was still here.”

  Her eyes clouded. “Me too.” Katherine forced herself to stand.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t hug you. I know your people don’t like that.”

  She nodded, thankful that he spared her the awkward moment.

  “Hey. It’s almost Christmas, huh?” He smiled. “A celebration indeed.” After he looked around the room again, he turned and left. Katherine stood there for a few moments, then she walked out the door and saw him on the sidewalk. He must be freezing. She watched him for a few moments and tried to fight the strange feeling settling over her. She called out to him. He turned around and walked back to her.

  “I can’t stay at your home if that’s what you are going to ask me. And I’m not ready to meet my grandchildren either.”

  “I, uh . . .” Katherine stared at him, tongue-tied for a few seconds since neither of those thoughts had crossed her mind. Inviting him to her home was out of the question, but she had a lot of questions for James Zook. “Would you like to meet here next Tuesday?” She could bring him some of Elias’s things. A coat, for starters.

  He walked a few steps closer to her, and a smile lit up his face. “I know you’re not going to like this, but . . .”

  Katherine tensed when he threw his arms around her, and her initial reaction was to push him away. But then he rubbed her back, the way a parent lovingly rubs a child’s back, and he said, “Elias loved you very much. He talks to me in my dreams sometimes. He understands why I couldn’t be with him when he was growing up. But I gotta say, I sure am excited to go see him after Christmas.” He eased himself away. “He said they are really going to roll out the red carpet when I get there.”

  Then he abruptly withdrew from the hug. “See you Tuesday.” He turned and headed down the sidewalk.

  Katherine tried to ignore the rush of grief that came over her. And then she made her way slowly toward her buggy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mary Carol waited as Abe put batteries in the new heater. He had also brought a heavy blanket for them to use at the old farmhouse. She huddled beneath it on the couch while Abe got the heater set up on the floor a few feet in front of them. Everything looked about the same as the last time they’d borrowed old Mr. Porter’s house, except now six Coke cans were on the TV tray by the chair.

  “Can you feel the heat?” Abe put a hand in front of the blower.

  Mary Carol nodded. It wasn’t very powerful, but it was better than nothing. Abe joined her on the couch and she raised the cover so he could get underneath it.

  “I missed you,” he said as he cupped her face and kissed her. As much as she enjoyed these Saturdays with Abe, she was becoming more and more distracted from her effort to keep things from going too far. As he eased her down on the couch, he lay beside her. “And I love you,” he added, his breath ragged, his hand traveling. She gently pushed him away and sat up.

  “I love you, too, but . . .” She bit her bottom lip as she lowered her chin. “I feel like we’re doing something wrong.”

  Abe sat up, got out from under the blanket, and wrapped it around both her shoulders. Then he kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel like that.”

  Mary Carol was trying to decide if he was upset or mad. She’d only known one girl who had gone all the way before marriage, and not only had Lena regretted it right away, she’d also gotten pregnant. They were quiet as the heater hummed, blowing a warm breeze their way.

  “I just want to hold you.” Abe wrapped his arms around her. After awhile, she invited him to share the blanket with her again, and they resumed kissing. But it took even less time for Abe to start breathing hard as he pulled her closer.

  “I can’t,” she whispered as her body reacted to his touch in ways she didn’t understand. “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.” Abe trembled, and Mary Carol wanted to trust him, but she wasn’t sure she could trust herself.

  “No,” she said in a louder voice, but she didn’t push him away as she closed her eyes and returned his kisses.

  A noise from upstairs made them both jump, and when they heard footsteps, Mary Carol gasped as she squeezed Abe’s arm. “What do we do?”

  They both stood up, shedding the blanket, and moved quickly toward the door, but they were still a few feet from it when they heard a man’s voice. “Hey!”

  Mary Carol turned around when Abe did, and as the old man walked toward them, she held her breath. He walked with a limp and wore tattered jeans and a blue shirt. His hair was matted on one side like he’d been lying down. He stopped in front of Abe. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward. His left eye seemed to have a mind of its own, or was he winking at Abe?

  “What’s going on in here?” The stranger’s voice was gruff. He held up his first finger, then poked Abe in the chest. “I don’t know what you’re doing down here, but I’m sure I heard that girl say no.” He glanced at Mary Carol. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, but her feet were rooted to the floor. The man took a step back as he eyed them both. His left eye blinked randomly. “Sit down. Both of you.” The man pointed to the couch as he backed into the recliner by the TV tray.

  Abe cleared his throat. “We’re sorry, sir. We didn’t know anyone lived here. We’ll go.”

  Before Abe even had time to take a step, the man pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

  Mary Carol glanced toward the door, and she hoped Abe would grab her hand so they could make a run for it. But instead, he walked to the couch and sat down, and once Mary Carol found her feet, she followed. Abe didn’t even realize he’d sat down on his straw hat.

  The man rubbed his chin, squinting again. “Did you know that in sixteenth-century Naples, people were hung for kissing? I’m going to guess you probably didn’t.”

  Mary Carol looked to Abe, whose eyes were wide as he shook his head. “No, sir. I didn’t know that.” His voice trembled when he went on. “Please don’t kill us.”

  “Wait here.” The man abruptly rose from the chair and limped toward the kitchen. Mary Carol pictured him returning with a gun. But before he’d even gotten out of the living room, he turned around to face them. “I have a soda every four hours. I do this because I enjoy it. And because I can.” He paused and studied them for a few seconds. “Wait right there.”

  “Let’s go,” Mary Carol said the moment he was out of sight. She tugged on the sleeve of Abe’s black coat.

  “What if he comes after us? What if he has a gun or something?” Abe looked at Mary Carol, then toward the kitchen as the man walked back into the living room carrying three cans of Coke.

  “I have over a hundred guns, but I’m not planning to shoot anyone.” His teeth were crooked when he smiled. “Not today anyway.” He handed a soda to each of them. “Who are you people?”

  Mary Carol swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s Abe Fisher. I’m Mary Carol Zook.” She turned to Abe, but she wasn’t sure he was breathing.

  The man popped the top on his soda and took a long swig. Mary Carol opened her cola too. Despite the circumstances, the Coke was a treat. Her mother never bought sodas. She took a sip and swallowed, enjoying the tingle from all the bubbles.

  “Are you any relation to Katherine Zook?” The man shivered as he talked, but every few seconds he took another gulp of Coke.

  Mary Carol nodded. “Ya. I’m her daughter.”

  “Ah, yes.” He pointed a finger at her. “I thought you looked familiar, but sometimes you all look the same in those clothes.”

  Mary Carol reached for the string on her kapp and twirled it in her fingers. Then she glanced at Abe before looking back at the man. “Do we know each other?”

  “No.” He finished the soda, crushed the can, and p
ut it next to the others on the tray. He pointed a finger at Abe. “The next time this girl tells you no, what will you do?”

  Abe sat taller. “I-I will listen to-to her.”

  Mary Carol hung her head as she felt her cheeks heat up. When she looked up, she saw the man’s teeth chattering. She picked up the brown blanket from where it had fallen on the floor and offered it to him.

  “Danki.” He quickly covered himself with it, and she returned to the couch.

  “Do you speak Pennsylvania Deitsch?” She took a sip of her cola. Abe hadn’t opened his.

  “A little. My name is Paul, by the way.” He slapped himself upside the head and rolled his eyes. “I mean James. My name is James. And I don’t live here. I’m just borrowing the place, if you know what I mean. Kinda like the two of you, I guess.” His left eye started to twitter again. “So, tell me about your life.”

  Mary Carol glanced at Abe and waited for him to go first. “I-I am the son of John and Elizabeth Fisher. We are—”

  James grunted loudly. “Not you. Her.” He pointed to Mary Carol. “I want to know about you.”

  “Uh . . .” She wasn’t sure what he wanted to know. The man couldn’t even keep his own name straight. “I have a sister named Linda who is twelve. I have two brothers named Stephen and Gideon, and they are sixteen and five.”

  James raised his eyebrows. “And?”

  “And you know that my mother is Katherine.” She paused. “How do you know my mother?”

  “I don’t really know her. Go on. What else?”

  “Um . . . my father was Elias. He passed on six months ago.” She locked eyes with James. “I miss him very much.” She glanced at Abe again, but he was tapping one foot and turning the full can of Coke over in his hands. She hoped he didn’t plan to open it anytime soon.

  “ ‘A time to weep, and a time to laugh,’ ” James said, pausing to sigh. “ ‘A time to mourn, and a time to dance.’ ”

  “Ecclesiastes,” she said softly.

  James nodded. “Yes. And the Beatles.” He scratched his chin. “Or was it the Byrds?”

  Mary Carol had no idea what beetles and birds had to do with the Scripture verse.

  “Can we go now?” Abe put his unopened can of Coke on the couch next to him. “Are you going to tell our parents you found us here?”

  James shook his head. “Kid, you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, are you? Why would I tell your parents when I’m not supposed to be here either?”

  Abe scowled as he stood up. “Come on, Mary Carol. Let’s go.”

  She slowly lifted herself from the couch as she studied James. There was something about him that seemed familiar. She was thankful he’d come down the stairs before she and Abe did something they would have regretted.

  “I’m the most interesting person you’ll probably ever meet, but go ahead and leave if you want.”

  Abe picked up his squashed hat from the couch and motioned to Mary Carol for them to move toward the door, but she sat back down.

  “I’d like to hear about you,” she said as she set her soda can on the floor near her feet.

  Abe glared at her. “Come on, Mary Carol. Let’s go.”

  James folded his arms across his chest and glared at Abe. “Well, you can’t leave her here with me. I’m a stranger. So you might as well sit back down.”

  Mary Carol looked up at Abe, then said in Pennsylvania Deitsch, “Let’s just stay a little bit longer.”

  Abe huffed, but he sat down beside her.

  James pulled the blanket snug, then smiled. “Before I begin, let’s pray together.”

  Mary Carol chewed on her bottom lip, but finally nodded. Abe lowered his head when she did.

  “Dear Heavenly Father, please bless these children.” James paused, and when Mary Carol glanced up at him, she caught him eyeing Abe before he shook his head and continued. “And help young Abraham to behave like a gentleman.”

  Mary Carol bit her lip again and stifled a grin. Abe didn’t look up, but she could see his face turning red.

  “I pray that Mary Carol and what’s-his-name will walk the right path and stay on track toward a life that pleases You. I pray for Bonnie. You and I know why. And I pray for a chocolate cake, that someone will bring me one. Loving Father, I will see You soon. Amen.”

  Mary Carol opened her eyes, not sure what to make of this man. But for the next two hours, she and Abe listened to him talk about his life. And James had spoken the truth earlier.

  He really was the most interesting person she had ever met.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mary Carol shivered as Abe guided the buggy toward her house. A light snow was falling.

  “Well, you can call him interesting all you want,” Abe said as he picked up speed. “But he’s ab im kopp.”

  “Ya, he might be a little off in the head.” Mary Carol recalled the stories James told. “But I still find him interesting, and I like him.”

  “He told me to shut up twice.” Abe shook his head.

  Mary Carol laughed. “That’s because you interrupted him twice. My favorite story was when he told us about staying at the White House.”

  Abe turned onto Mary Carol’s road. “Ya, but I don’t believe any of it. I don’t think the president’s wife had a sister that no one knew about named Bonnie, or that she made him chocolate cakes every week.” He turned to her, eyes wide. “And I’m sure I don’t believe that he saved eighty-six lives while he worked for the FBI. Tall tales. He’s an old man who likes to tell stories.”

  Mary Carol smiled. “I like him.” She’d laughed more than she had in a long time.

  “We are going to have to find somewhere else to go on Saturdays so we can be alone.”

  “Didn’t you hear me tell him that I would see him next Saturday? He seemed happy about that. And I’m going to surprise him with a chocolate cake.”

  Abe pulled back on the reins until the horse slowed to barely a trot. “You meant that? What about us? Don’t you want to spend time by ourselves?”

  “Abe, we need to be smarter about the time we spend alone. The last couple of times have been close.” Mary Carol didn’t want to hurt Abe’s feelings. She knew he loved her, and she loved him too. But they’d been treading in dangerous waters the past few weeks. “There will be plenty of time for us to be alone after the holidays. Christmas is in a couple of weeks, and James was excited that we were going to visit him again.” She shrugged as she looked out the window of the buggy. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  Abe grunted. “Ya, I do. I’d never let you go there by yourself.” He pulled into Mary Carol’s driveway. “He doesn’t like me though.”

  She smiled, tempted to agree with him. But James had been very nice to her. When Abe stopped the buggy near the gate in the front yard, she looked around to make sure her mother or siblings weren’t outside, then she leaned over and quickly kissed Abe good-bye.

  “See you Saturday?” she asked, still smiling.

  Abe frowned as he nodded. “Ya, I guess.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mary Carol.” He hung his head, sighing before he looked back up at her. She’d known Abe for so long, sometimes she felt like she could think his thoughts. He was about to apologize. “I’m real sorry if I did anything to upset you. I never want to hurt you. Not ever.”

  “I know. I just think maybe things were moving a little too fast.” She was thankful for their new friend. Today, for a couple of hours, she hadn’t thought about her father, about how much she missed him. But as she got out of the buggy and hurried through the snow to the house, she knew any sense of joy she’d felt would turn to guilt when she saw her mother. When Mary Carol was around her family, it seemed wrong to be anything other than sad.

  Katherine stayed quiet while her oldest son voiced his opinion about Gideon drawing on their bedroom walls. “It’s bad enough that I have to share a room with him, but now you are letting him draw on the walls?” He waved a hand t
oward Gideon’s stick people and coffins. Just that morning, Gideon had added more people . . . and another coffin. When Katherine had questioned her youngest son about the extra coffin, he’d just shrugged.

  “Your bruder is having a hard time coping with your daed’s death, and he is just expressing himself.” Katherine wanted to ask her oldest son how he was coping. He’d closed himself off from everyone. He hadn’t gone to any of the singings on Sunday afternoons since his father died. And sometimes he refused to go to worship service.

  “Ya, well. I wish he’d find some other way to do it.” Stephen shook his head, then began to walk out of the bedroom.

  “Stephen, can you wait a minute?” Katherine didn’t want to bring this up right now, but the boy was out of the house so much, she needed to catch him while she could. “I’m sorry to have to ask this, but would you please find some time in the next few days to winterize the pipes in the basement?” She considered it a small miracle that a pipe hadn’t burst, given that December had been colder than usual. If Stephen handled the pipes, it would give her time to give Gideon a trim.

  Stephen turned and before he was out of earshot, she heard a faint, “Fine.”

  Katherine was tempted to follow him, but maybe this wasn’t the best time to get him to open up about his dad’s death and the added responsibilities.

  She went to her own bedroom where she’d laid out all the items she planned to take to her father-in-law. She still wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing by befriending the man who’d hurt his own son so deeply, but it was the holidays, and she was going to do what she could for him. She picked up the brown coat she’d bought Elias only two Christmases ago, and she buried her face in it, breathing in his scent. Fighting the urge to cry, she gathered up some of Elias’s shirts, two pairs of shoes, and some other toiletries that she thought James could use. She packed them in an old red suitcase that Elias had used when traveling to out-of-town auctions.

  She wondered if James was homeless, and it worried her where he might be living since he wouldn’t tell her. But how does he have a car and how does he afford to put gas in it?