Plain Proposal (13 page)

Rebecca excused herself when there was another knock at the door, and she returned with the other six dinner guests—two couples who looked to be in their thirties, and two older women who appeared to be together. Rebecca made introductions, then asked everyone to have a seat.

Shelby wasn’t sure what to do next, so she eased closer to Miriam and whispered, “What now?”

“
Daed
and the boys should be washing up outside at the water pump, then when they’re seated, we’ll sit down.”

Shelby nodded as she checked out their company. One of the younger couples began to sit down. Both were well dressed, the woman in a peach-colored skirt and matching blouse that looked more appropriate for church, and the man in black slacks, a starched white shirt, and a black and white tie with tiny red dots. Her eyes drifted to the younger couple already seated. Both wore blue jeans and matching red T-shirts that said
Amish Dutch Country
on the back with a picture of a horse and buggy. The man had been introduced as Bruce, and his dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail that hung a few inches down his back. His arms were folded across his chest as he eyed the offerings in front of him. Frank and Yvonne took their seats, as did the two older women who’d arrived together.

Shelby stepped aside when Miriam brushed past her carrying another plate of buttered bread, and a few moments later Aaron and the three boys joined them.

“If we could please all bow our heads for silent prayer,” Rebecca said after everyone was seated.

Shelby bowed her head, but she didn’t close her eyes and instead glanced around the table. Bruce didn’t bow his head or close his eyes, and when his eyes locked with Shelby’s, a chill ran up her spine. She was relieved when his wife raised her head and began talking to him, pulling the man’s dark, icy eyes away.

Rebecca identified the various dishes for their guests, then started passing bowls and platters to her left. “And please try some rhubarb jam on your bread if you’d like,” she said, smiling.

“This looks delicious, Rebecca.” Yvonne smiled as she passed the creamed celery to her husband.

Her sentiments were echoed throughout the group. All except for Bruce. There was something unsettling about him, and Shelby’s eyes kept veering in his direction. Bruce’s wife whispered to him several times, but she also commented to Rebecca about how good everything tasted.

“Why aren’t you dressed like them?”

Shelby almost lost her grip on the bowl of potatoes at the sound of Bruce’s gruff voice. “I’m not Amish. I’m their cousin, just visiting.”

He narrowed bushy brows as one corner of his mouth twitched. His wife elbowed him to accept the plate of bread that she was holding, and he looked away. She was relieved when the two elderly women took over the conversation and began asking lots of questions about Amish life.

“I read somewhere that Amish children only attend school through the eighth grade. Is that true?” The gray-headed woman named Mary smiled as she posed the question to Rebecca.

Rebecca swallowed and took a moment before she answered. “
Ya
. It’s true. We feel like that is enough education to prepare our young people for the type of work that we do.”

Mary nodded, then spoke directly to Miriam. “Honey, are you in your
rumschpringe
?”

Even though the woman seemed pleased with her use of the Pennsylvania
Deitsch
dialect, Shelby recognized the fact that she mispronounced the word. But Miriam just smiled and said, “Yes, ma’am. I’m eighteen, and at sixteen, we are given the freedom to explore the
Englisch
world so that when we choose to stay here, it’s not because we don’t know what life outside of our community is like.”

Bruce’s throaty chuckle reeked of cynicism before he said, “Surely you all get out of here as soon as you can.” He glanced around the room. “I mean, really. Who’d choose this life if they had a choice?”

His wife, a woman with shoulder-length blond hair, lowered her head, but Shelby saw her cheeks redden.

“I think I’d enjoy this life,” the woman in the peach-colored outfit said. “It’s so peaceful and without the distractions of our life—cell phones, tight schedules, and. . .” She paused and sat taller. “And the Amish have a strong faith in our Lord.”

“Whatever,” Bruce mumbled as he reached across his wife and scooped a large spoonful of chicken casserole from the dish. Rebecca shifted her weight in her chair and glanced at her husband. Shelby saw Aaron nod at her, as if they were having a secret conversation. . . one that perhaps they’d had before.

“Boys, finish up. You still have chores to finish.” Aaron spoke with authority to Elam, Ben, and James, who all nodded and began to eat faster. A few minutes later all three boys excused themselves and headed outside.

“Uh, excuse me. . .” Bruce’s wife glanced over Rebecca’s shoulder toward the den. “Is the bathroom that way?”

Rebecca pushed herself away from the table. “
Ya
. Of course. Follow me.”

“Nah, don’t get up. I’ll find it.” The woman hurriedly stood up, lifted one leg over the bench, then the other, and was heading across the den before Rebecca could argue.

Mary cleared her throat. “You have a lovely home, Rebecca. Thank you for having us for supper.” She smiled. “And this food is
wunderbaar gut
.” She nudged her friend, again proud of her use of the dialect.

“Danki,”
Rebecca said as she glanced at Miriam, who lowered her eyes and grinned. Shelby would remember to ask both of them what was so amusing, even though Mary didn’t seem to notice.

When the main meal was over, Shelby and Miriam helped Rebecca clear the table, then they placed the desserts in the middle. They supplied fresh plates for everyone and served hot coffee. Shelby noticed that Rhoda—Bruce’s wife—wasn’t back from the bathroom.

“Do you think your wife is all right?” Shelby avoided the man’s eyes and glanced into the den.

“She’s fine.” He didn’t look up but instead helped himself to a generous supply of each dessert offered.

It was at least another five minutes before Rhoda returned, and she slipped in beside her husband. “You got enough there on your plate, Bruce?”

“For fifteen dollars, I’m having everything they put out.” He scowled at his wife.

“Everything is wonderful, Rebecca,” Mary said as she daintily picked at a piece of shoofly pie.

“Danki,”
Rebecca answered again, smiling. “I’d like to invite you all into the den to look at our homemade jams and jellies. We also have cookbooks that include the recipes for everything you have eaten here tonight. And there are some other things that might interest you.” Rebecca motioned toward the table in the den.

“Don’t even think about buying any of that junk,” Bruce said to Rhoda, his forehead creasing as he spoke. Shelby watched Aaron take a slow, deep breath, but he didn’t say anything. Miriam lowered her eyes but stood by her mother as everyone but Bruce and Rhoda walked into the den.

Aaron stayed at the table with Bruce and Rhoda while Bruce loaded up on another round of desserts. Everyone else was gathering up jams, jellies, cookbooks, and quilted pot holders in the other room.

“Thanks for dinner,” Rhoda said a few minutes later as she and Bruce made their way across the den and toward the front door.

Rebecca quickly joined them, smiling. “Thank you for being a guest in our home.”

“Yeah,” Bruce said as he opened the door. “Come on, Rhoda.”

Rhoda gave Rebecca a weak smile and followed her husband.

After Bruce and Rhoda were out the door, Shelby whispered to Miriam, “I’m glad they’re gone.”

Aaron followed the couple out the door, and it wasn’t until tires met with the gravel road that Aaron came back in the house. He excused himself and thanked everyone for coming, then headed to the barn.

“I’m glad too,” Miriam finally said.

Once everyone had paid for their goods, they thanked Rebecca and headed to their cars. Rebecca dropped onto the couch the minute everyone was gone. She put her head in her hands, and Miriam sat down beside her mother. “What’s wrong,
Mamm
?”

Her mother didn’t look up but pointed to the oak china cabinet on the far wall, next to the table of jams, jellies, and such. Miriam stood up and walked toward the cabinet, then hung her head for a moment. “It’s okay,
Mamm
. We’ll get another one.”

“What?” Shelby walked to where Miriam was standing. “What’s wrong?”

“
Mamm’s
silver letter opener is gone.”

“Someone stole it?” Shelby was sure who the culprit was. “Was it worth a lot?”

Rebecca pulled her hands away from her face, then joined Miriam and Shelby by the china cabinet. She let out a heavy sigh. “No. It was only silver-plated, but it was a gift from my grandmother years ago. It was inscribed to me, from her. It said, ‘May all your letters be received with an abundance of love.’”

“Well, clearly that Rhoda woman took it when she went to the bathroom.” Shelby shook her head, then looked up at Rebecca. “Is anything else missing?”

Rebecca glanced around the den. “No.” She bit her bottom lip. “But the woman had to go down the hall to get to the bathroom, and she was gone a long time.” She started down the hallway, Miriam and Shelby following. All the bedrooms were upstairs. The downstairs consisted of the large kitchen, a nice-sized den, a mudroom, and a hallway to the bathroom with a closed door on each side. Shelby knew that one room housed a pedal sewing machine and quilting supplies, but she’d never been in the other room.

“There’s nothing missing in here,” Rebecca said after she scanned the sewing room. Then she went to the door on the other side and pushed it open. “Oh no.”

“What?” Shelby slid into the room with Miriam. “Rebecca, what is it?”

Rebecca walked to the middle of the room. There were racks and racks of jams, jellies, cookbooks, quilted pot holders, and other items marked with white price tags. “I left the cash box on the shelf.” She walked to a cigar box and lifted the lid, then slowly closed it.

“How much did they take,
Mamm
?”

Rebecca turned around, tears in her eyes. “Your
daed
told me I needed to get the money to the bank last week after the Mud Sale, but I just didn’t have time.”

Miriam put a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “How much,
Mamm
?”

Rebecca leaned her head back against her neck and closed her eyes. “A little over two thousand dollars.”

“We need to call the police. I’ll do it from the barn because my cell’s dead.” Shelby turned to leave the room.

“No, Shelby.” Rebecca’s voice shook, but the tone was firm. “We have no proof, and it’s God’s will. Perhaps whoever took the money needs it more than us.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Shelby glanced at Miriam, recalling how her cousin said she overused the phrase, but in this case, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “God’s will? Are you saying that it’s God’s will for you to be robbed by people in your own home? People you served dinner to. You need to call the bed-and-breakfast where they are staying, let the owner know, then call the police.”

Rebecca just shook her head, but she finally said, “I will call Barbie Beiler because she needs to know that someone in that group took things from our home. She needs to know that since those folks are guests at her place.”

“
Mamm
, the only one who went this way was Rhoda. Where would she have put the letter opener? The cash she could put in her blue jean pockets, but not the letter opener.” Miriam turned to Shelby. “The letter opener was long, maybe seven or eight inches long.”

“In her sock,” Shelby answered without hesitation, ashamed that she knew where the woman would conceal something she’d stolen. “She had on tennis shoes. . . and socks. She probably put it in her sock.” Shelby’s past flashed before her—a trip to the police station, a stolen necklace. She took a deep breath as she recalled how easy it was to steal the silver chain from the rack at the department store. Or so she’d thought. That’s how it is when you’re high—a false reality. Shelby was forced to watch the security tape later when she wasn’t under any influence, and she’d cried hard, begging her parents for forgiveness. The department store went easy on her, but forgiveness never came from her parents.

Who was I back then?
She wondered if she would be released from the guilt she felt about her shoplifting, especially now as she watched Rebecca close the door and dab at her eyes.

Shelby followed Miriam and Rebecca to the kitchen.

“I still think we need to call the police.”

Rebecca walked to the table and began clearing the dessert plates. “No, Shelby. I will call Barbie from the phone in the barn, but not the police.”

Shelby put her hands on her hips. “Rebecca, this just isn’t right. We know who took that money, and this isn’t God’s will.”

Maybe it was the way she said “God’s will,” but Rebecca’s expression turned sour quickly. “Everything that happens is God’s will.” She lifted her chin and sniffled. “I’d like no further talk of this.”

Shelby glanced at Miriam, then sighed. “Okay.” She walked to the sink and started placing the dishes in soapy water. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Rebecca grabbed a towel and accepted a washed plate from Shelby. “You didn’t upset me, Shelby. It upsets me that folks would come into our home and do this, but instead of calling the police, we handle things a bit different. We will pray for them every day and hope that they will find their way to God, and we’ll ask God to forgive them for this.”

Shelby momentarily wondered if anyone had prayed for her when she was making bad choices.

“I’m
not
praying for them.” The words slipped out, and it was too late for Shelby to take them back. She glanced at Rebecca, then at Miriam. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”