A Plain Man (38 page)

With his new project only a mile away, Caleb beat his father home from work that day. By the time Jack dropped
Daed
off in their yard Caleb had milked the cows, cleaned the horse stalls, and swept out the barn. Eli stepped from the van laden down with long rolls of blueprints, a bulging briefcase, and his thermos. Caleb sprang to meet him on the walkway. “Here, let me carry some of that.” He greeted his former workmates as Eli handed him the blueprints.

“
Danki
. Every project the drawings get thicker and more complicated.” Eli shuffled wearily up the flagstone path. “How goes it at the Sidleys'?” No matter how tired he was from his own responsibilities, Eli never failed to inquire about Albert's family.

“Gut,”
Caleb said. “For now, the house is done, and it looks great. Once we earn enough profits from our current project, Albert will buy a hot water tank. Then Bob can return to hook it up to the propane line.”

“I'll check if any scratch-and-dents are available at the builders' outlet store.” Eli labored up the steps, breathing hard.

Cal knew his father would do more than check. Without a doubt a serviceable, under-warranty water heater would materialize on the Sidley porch after his next trip to Wooster. “In the meantime,” said Caleb, “Joshua Miller hired us to add on to his
dawdi haus.
One of his sons wants to marry but doesn't intend to farm. Joshua said his parents can use help around the clock from the new wife while his son works at the lumberyard.”

“What kind of addition does Joshua need?” Eli hung his wool coat on a peg.

“Another two bedrooms, plus a downstairs bathroom equipped to
handle a wheelchair.
Grossmammi
can no longer climb steps.” Caleb emptied out his father's lunchbox into the sink.

“That should keep you and Albert busy all winter.”

“That's what I figured too, but I need to ask you something unrelated to work.” Caleb waited until he had
Daed'
s attention. “Can I use your cell phone? It's important.”

Eli stopped rummaging around in the refrigerator. “Of course. Let me get it from my briefcase.”

“Don't you want to know what the call is about?”

“
Nein
. If you say it's important, that's good enough for me.” Eli dragged his leather bag to the table and searched until he found it. “It's time you start charging up your phone, if you haven't already thrown it in the trash.”

“I still have it.” Caleb didn't quite know how to respond. His father had loathed what he'd brought home from Cleveland.

“Now that you have your own construction business, you'll need a phone. It's permissible to use for business. Not to call your customers, because most of them will be Amish, but to order materials, arrange deliveries, and schedule other subcontractors to the jobsite. Besides, construction work can be dangerous. I'd like you to be able to call 911 without running a mile to a neighbor.”

Caleb accepted the phone from his outstretched hand. “
Danki
. I'll give your idea some thought.”

Eli poured a glass of tea and headed to the front room. “You can charge yours in the barn with the generator. The outlet has room for another plug.”

Caleb walked outside and punched in a number he still remembered a year later.
Maybe Pete has a new phone or a new number.
But just as the thought occurred, Pete Taylor answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

The familiar voice filled Caleb with guilt. “Pete? It's me, Cal Beachy.”

“Wow, you must be able to read minds. Michelle was asking about you today, whether or not I'd heard from you.” Pete laughed in his easy, relaxed manner. “I told her not a word, so you'd better have plenty of news that I can relay.”

Just like that...all those months with no communication fell away. Pete sounded as though only a week or two had passed since they'd last talked.

“I'm working for myself these days, so I'll keep my cell phone turned on. But first I want to hear about you and Michelle. Tell me about your wedding, and the honeymoon vacation, and your new home. How is construction going in Cleveland? Have you been to the beach at Edgewater Park lately?”

Laughing, Pete launched into a male abbreviated version of major life transitions—those that a woman could talk for hours about. All in all, Pete was a happy man. And that mitigated some of Caleb's shame in being such a poor friend.

“I'm glad you're both well and that your wedding was...exactly how Michelle dreamed it would be. I wish you both all the best.” For a moment Caleb had been at a loss how to describe the expensive, over-the-top extravaganza. “I'm embarrassed I didn't send a card or gift or acknowledge your marriage in some way.”

“According to Michelle's bridal magazines, you've got a full year. And she takes those magazines very seriously.”

They both laughed, alleviating the last of Caleb's discomfort. “Josie—she's my fiancée—told me about the time limit. She's working on a quilt for your wedding gift. We'll send it to you when she finishes it.”

“A real, live Amish quilt?” Pete asked. “Do you know how much those things cost in a gift shop?”

“No, I don't, and please don't tell me.”

With more laughter and each passing minute, their friendship and familiarity with each other returned. Pete described his tribulations as a new project manager for a large construction firm.

“You had to turn in your union card?” said Caleb.

“I did. I'm considered management, for better or for worse.”

Caleb relayed the course of events during the Ashland strike, followed by the renovation of the Sidley homestead and finally, his recent partnership with Albert.

“You're the owner of your company? That's quite a step up from a plain old carpenter, my friend.”

Caleb hooted. Pete's excitement was infectious. “We're a pair of Amish handymen, trying to scratch out a living with household repairs and small additions. A businessman I am not, at least, not yet.”

“It's good to start small and learn as you go.”

“That's true. We're learning plumbing and heating systems so we can do more than work with wood or install a new roof.”

“Did I hear you correctly—you have a fiancée? Good for you, Cal. Since I broke the ice, you're the second of my friends to get engaged.”

“I'm not officially engaged yet. In fact, we've been going through a rough patch.” He waited a moment to see if Pete would comment, but he remained silent. “I can't seem to live down the mistakes I made in the city. I've told Josie more than she ever wanted to know.”

“And she's throwing it back in your face?” Pete asked.

“Not at all. I'm the one who can't seem to forget and move on.”

Again Pete didn't comment, perhaps bewildered by the change of topics. Men could discuss work endlessly, but relationships? Those conversations usually lasted a scant sixty seconds.

“I know I have no right to ask for more favors, but you might be best suited to help.”

“Sure, what can I do?” Pete replied without another thought.

“Josie watched her
Englisch
friend get baptized in a pond a couple years ago. She thinks that kind of baptism could...get rid of my guilt. Isn't that what you did after you met Michelle and joined her church?”

“Whew.” Pete whistled through his teeth. “For a moment I thought you wanted me to be some kind of counselor. I can't even remember to take out the trash without constant reminders.”

“Would your preacher be willing to baptize someone about to join an Amish church?” Caleb held his breath, waiting for the answer.

“I don't know why not. I'll call the church office when we hang up. Our minister would want to meet you to make sure you understand what this entails. And he'll ask you plenty of questions.”

“I'll do whatever is necessary. I had planned to do this for Josie's sake, but the more I think about it, I'm doing this for me.”

“I'll be in touch after I set up the preliminaries,” said Pete. “Do you still have the same cell number you did before?”

“Yes. Today I used my father's because mine wasn't charged. But I'll plug it in as soon as we get off the phone. Call me any time, night or day.”

“Sounds like you're taking some big steps—starting a business, joining a church, getting hitched.”

“In case you haven't noticed, we're not getting any younger. Thanks, Pete.”

“You're welcome. It's a small favor in exchange for a handmade Amish quilt.”

“Thanks, Pete.” After clicking the phone shut, Caleb gave thanks for his friend. Once again Pete had come through for him. Another flicker of light appeared at the end of a long, dark tunnel. And he thanked God for lighting the match.

Eli awoke with a start and glanced around. He'd fallen asleep in his chair while studying the Book of Peter to prepare his next sermon. Now his notes and papers were scattered across the floor, his tea was ice cold, and he'd developed a crick in his neck. His
fraa
had dozed off in the rocker, her needlework abandoned in her lap. On the other side of the room sat his son, neither reading nor napping. Caleb seemed to be studying them.

“Have you taken up the exciting pastime of watching your parents sleep?” Eli kneaded the tight cords at the back of his neck. “I'd better wake your
mamm
and help her upstairs. Sleeping upright isn't good for our old bones.” He slowly rose from the chair to loosen his tight vertebrae.

“
Daed
, I've been waiting to talk to you. I didn't want to wake you after a tiring day at work.” Caleb flexed his fingers.

“Can this wait until tomorrow, son? You could probably use a good night's sleep too.” Eli shook Elizabeth's shoulder. “Come to bed,
fraa
.”

“It can, but if you don't mind, I would really appreciate getting something off my chest.”

Eli remembered how problems seemed immediate and crucial
when one was young. “Let me take your mother upstairs and then I'll come back down. Why don't you fix me another cup of tea? This one is cold.”

Elizabeth staggered from the rocker. “Don't stay up too late, Caleb. You look as exhausted as we feel.” She clung to Eli's arm as they limped stiffly from the room.

Ten minutes later Eli found Caleb on the back porch, gazing at a clear sky studded with stars. A steaming mug of chamomile tea sat next to his usual chair, along with a can of Coke next to the swing. “Nice night,” he said, joining Caleb at the rail. “It'll be
gut
for sleeping. Time to get the heavier quilts out of the trunk.”

His son turned from the awe-inspiring view and handed back his cell phone. “
Danki
for letting me use yours. And I think you're right. I've plugged mine in and will use it for construction purposes.” Caleb sat down next to his can of soda. “I wanted to talk about my phone call.”

Eli slumped into the chair, eager for his tea, not late-night chitchat. “I don't need to hear your business. I trust you.”

“My call wasn't work related. I owed my friend, Pete Taylor, an apology for dropping off the planet after his and Michelle's visit here. That had to have been April, maybe even March, before their wedding. I never congratulated them on their marriage, despite everything Pete did for me in Cleveland. I've been a terrible friend.”

Eli took a sip of tea, having burned his tongue too many times to count. “How is the young couple faring? Is Pete working steadily now that he has a wife to support?”

“Pete's job is secure and so is Michelle's, but I didn't call solely to express congratulations. I called to ask him for another favor—number 879, if anybody's counting.” Caleb leaned back in his chair and released a hollow-sounding laugh.

Eli tried to concentrate despite his fatigue. “You'll soon join our church and accept our way of life. Your contact with the Taylors will be minimal, although they'll always be welcome here. What favor could you possibly need from them that your family can't provide for you?”

After a sip of Coke, his son launched into a convoluted story about Josie's former employer, Michelle Taylor's preacher in Lakewood, the
lake at Mohican State Park, and the burdens of sin. When Caleb concluded, he sat staring into space for almost a full minute.

Eli rubbed his eyelids, confused. “Why on earth would you need to get baptized at a swimming hole when it will be part of our fall communion service? You'll invite the Holy Spirit into your heart when you join the church.” Unwittingly Eli gripped the arms of his chair as though in danger of falling.

Caleb finished his soda and locked eyes with him. “I intend to get baptized twice. Although I know you probably wouldn't like the idea, I wanted to tell you anyway. The
Englisch
way will help me break free from my old life.”