Sweet as Honey (6 page)

Lily's throat suddenly felt raw. “He did?”

Paul kept his eyes turned away. “He said you were ugly as a dog and that you belonged with the pigs instead of with the other girls at school.”

Lily felt as if she'd been slapped as the pain of school came rushing back, making her head spin and her stomach lurch. The surrounding air became moist and oppressively hot, and she couldn't catch a breath.

Paul nodded smugly. “Dan Kanagy is rotten to the bone. You'd be wise to stay far away from him and burn any books he gives you.”

“I will,” Lily said, determined to go home and at least consider burning
Where the Red Fern Grows
.

Paul bent his mouth into a thoughtful scowl. “He wants something from you. I wouldn't be surprised if he and his shifty
fater
try to buy your property right out from under you.”

Lily thought of Dan's enthusiasm at seeing their farm. Was he interested in their property? A seed of doubt grew. “They can't buy it. We own our farm free and clear.”

“Don't be caught off guard if they try, and don't believe any of his promises.” Paul seemed to have forgotten how hungry he was. He slowed his pace as they got closer to the restaurant. “I'm worried for you, Lily. Dan is only interested because you're not ugly anymore. Don't be tempted by all his talk of green eyes. He's found your weakness. Don't let him feed your vanity.”

Even though his words stung, she knew she deserved the lecture. She felt so grateful for a friend like Paul. He would never dream of feeding her vanity.

Chapter Six

Dan blew into his house like a tornado, itching to give the door a good, hard shove and rattle all the windows. He didn't. With his knuckles white around the doorknob, he shut the door as gently as if a baby were sleeping just inside.

He had to do something with his hands or his blood would boil over. Steam was probably coming out of his ears.

He stormed into the kitchen. A stack of dirty dishes sat in the sink. Perfect. He would have smiled if he hadn't been in such a terrible mood. He could take out his frustration on the dinner plates. After emptying the sink and plugging the drain, he filled the sink with steaming hot water and about three tablespoons of soap. Bubbles. He wanted lots of annoying bubbles.

Even though as a Christian he should love everyone, Dan had never been able to stomach Paul Glick. Paul was the boy who always thought he was right. Always
had
to be right—the kind who dug in his heels harder when someone proved him wrong or questioned his pompous intelligence.

Dan scrubbed his rag across the plates with a vengeance. Pompous intelligence and unbearable arrogance.

He who is angry with his brother is in danger of hellfire
, or something like that. He took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. It didn't help.

In eighth grade when Dan had started taking an interest in Lily Christner, Paul had too. At recess, Paul would drag Lily to the far corner of the playground and they'd sit and talk while the rest of the boys played baseball or Kick the Can. Dan had never been able to understand what Lily saw in Paul, but from eighth grade on, they were fast friends.

For his own sanity, he'd tried to keep clear of Lily Christner. It had been plain as day that she and Paul were destined to marry, and Dan hadn't really wanted to make a fool of himself chasing after another boy's fianceé. He had hoped that two years in Pennsylvania would dull his interest, but Mammi wrote so often of Lily and their time spent reading together, he couldn't quite achieve indifference.

And now he had returned, and Lily was as beautiful as ever, and he couldn't stand the way Paul treated her—as if she were someone he had to beat down to make himself bigger, someone small and insignificant who shouldn't be allowed to make her own decisions or spread her wings and fly. And Paul had succeeded in convincing Lily it was true. Dan saw it plain as midday that she honestly believed she didn't deserve any better than Paul Glick.

Not that Dan was a great catch or anything like that. Lily deserved better than him too. She deserved the best man in Wisconsin. She was certainly the best girl.

Dan growled and dumped another stack of dishes into the sink. If he'd stayed away from Lily after Mammi's funeral like he'd promised himself he would, his feelings for her wouldn't have resurfaced and he wouldn't be standing here pushing plates around the sink, up to his elbows in bubbles.

“Have a bad day?”

He snapped his head around. Mamm stood in the doorway holding a recipe and a bottle of cooking oil. “What makes you think I had a bad day?”

“You clean when you're angry.”

“I clean when I'm not angry too.”

“It's true,” Mamm said. “I trained you well. You're one of my best helpers. But from the way plates have been clattering around in here, it sounds like you're a hairbreadth away from hurling a few at the wall.”

“You probably wouldn't like that.”

“Probably not.”

Dan pulled a bowl from the water and washed it as if it were a fragile crystal figurine. He smirked at Mamm. “Is that better?”

Mamm cocked an eyebrow. “Wonderful-
gute
. Did you buy the chocolate chips yet?”

If there'd been any other store in town that sold chocolate chips, he wouldn't have had to patronize the Glick Family Amish Market. The thought of contributing any money to Paul Glick's prosperous future made him ill. In addition to the little trip to the store, he'd spent way too much on books Lily would never read and had been cut down to size by a big-headed, self-righteous fool. The trip into town had been very productive.

Whosoever shall say to his brother, thou fool, shall be in danger of the council.
Dan didn't know exactly what “the council” was, but he might be willing to risk it if it allowed him to stay mad at Paul forever.

His anger distracted him from the depressing thought that pretty Lily Christner would be miserable married to Paul Glick. All those bright sparks of joy and beauty would be snuffed out within a year. Dan clenched his teeth. He couldn't stand to think about it. Better to be angry.

He pressed too hard and one of Mamm's dinner plates cracked in his hand. He shoved it back under the water so Mamm wouldn't see.

“Well, did you?”

“Did I what?” Dan said, trying to remember what his
mamm
had just asked him.

“Get chocolate chips.”

“
Jah
.” He slumped his shoulders. “I left them in the buggy.”

Mamm curled one side of her mouth. “At least they made it home.”

Dan pulled his hands out of the water. They were covered in bubbles. “I'll get them.”

“I'll go,” Mamm said with a wink. “I want you to finish those dishes. But don't break any more of them.” She turned as if to go outside and then turned back. “But first, tell me what you're so upset about.”

He didn't want Mamm to know what a fool he was being over a girl who already had somebody else. “It's nothing. I'm already over it.”

“What's her name?”

“What?”

“Nothing is as frustrating as a girl.”

“I can't believe you'd admit that, Mamm, since you're a girl.”

Mamm bloomed into one of her teasing smiles. “I'm not saying we're not worth it.”

Worth it? Lily Christner was definitely worth it. With her hair the color of dark amber honey and her eyes all kinds of green and blue, she stole his breath every time she looked his way. Lily was kindness and radiance and light all wrapped up in a cute, irresistible package. He couldn't help but smile when he was around her. Her joy was infectious. Paul hadn't killed it yet.

Dan loved everything about Lily, but that didn't mean he should keep making a fool of himself, not when she and Paul were probably engaged already. It was unfortunate that Dan had been the one they sent to fetch Lily when Mammi had died. That encounter with Lily had been his downfall. She was too wonderful not to hope for.

He couldn't remember exactly how it had happened, but ever since he was eleven or twelve he'd had a crush on her. He didn't mind that she could beat him and every other boy reciting times tables or spelling words like
chrysanthemum
. He admired her sharp mind and abundance of freckles.

Not to mention how she had always treated the little kids. They'd flock around her at recess, and she would tell them stories and recite poems. Recite poems! He had barely been able to memorize his address.

The day before he'd left for Pennsylvania, he'd gone to Mammi's house to say good-bye. He'd walked in the front door and heard Lily in the next room reading a book to his
mammi
. He'd stood in the hallway for nearly fifteen minutes captivated by Lily's voice. She had been reading a story about sheep and buttons, and Mammi had chuckled and sighed every few sentences. Standing in the entryway of his
mammi
's house, he nearly burst with longing. He could have sat all day and listened to Lily read the dictionary.

Dan rinsed the last plate while Mamm stared at him, waiting for him to spill the beans about some mystery girl. What could he tell her? He'd rather be the only witness to his total failure with Lily Christner.

“It's not so much the girl,” he finally said. “It's the boy she's engaged to.”

Mamm winced. “No wonder you're frustrated.”

“I know what you're going to tell me. I should forget her and move on.”

“Easy to say. Hard to do.” Mamm laid her recipe and oil on the table. “If we send you to Ohio, my cousin Owen could find you a wife.”

“That trick didn't work out so well in Pennsylvania.”

Smiling, Mamm folded her arms and dared Dan to contradict her. “It wasn't a trick. We sent you to Onkel Titus and Aendi Barbara's to learn how to care for cattle. Your finding a bride would have been a wonderful-
gute
bonus.”

Dan shook his head and stifled a grin. Aunt Barbara had introduced him to a new girl almost every week. She had insisted he write to his
mamm
regularly and give her updates on his love life. No doubt they had conspired to find him a wife.

Mamm came close, got on her tiptoes, and laid a loud kiss on his cheek. “I'm sorry about the girl with the fiancé. It hurts to like someone who doesn't like you back.”

Jah
. It hurt something wonderful. An ache deep in his chest that throbbed whenever he saw Lily Christner.

“And there's nothing I can do about it,” he said.

Mamm tilted her head to one side. “She's engaged?”

“Maybe not. She has this longtime boyfriend, but they might not be engaged yet.”

She pressed her lips together as if deciding whether to say anything. “It would be better to forget her, Daniel.”

“I know, but I can't. I don't want to—at least not until she's married to that . . . other boy.”

Mamm huffed out a breath. “I can't believe I'm encouraging this, but make yourself available but not annoying. Give her a chance to get to know you. If she still chooses the other boy then she doesn't deserve you.”

“I don't deserve her.”

“She already has a boyfriend, so no one must suspect that you're trying to court her. Be her friend. Make friends with her sisters and aunt. Be yourself. Any girl in the world will fall in love with you if you just be your own wonderful self.”

“Her sisters and aunt?”

Mamm smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “I see it plain as the wart on Dawdi David's nose. You couldn't take your eyes off her when she came to Mammi's.”

“You think I'm
deerich,
foolish.”

“She is a sweet girl. We all love her for how considerate she was to your
mammi
. But Paul Glick has his hooks in her but good.”

Something raw and fierce flared inside his chest. He stepped away from the plates. “You should see the way he treats her, Mamm, as if she was his property instead of his girlfriend.”

Mamm shook her head. “I'd ask why she lets him do that, but I already know the answer. A girl starts to believe she doesn't deserve any better. It's the way with Martha Glick, Paul's
mater
. Since the day they married, Paul's
dat
wore her down until she doesn't even know she's a daughter of Christ anymore.”

“But why would Lily be friends with Paul in the first place?”

“Lily has a kind heart. Maybe Paul needed a friend. Maybe Lily needed a friend.”

Dan frowned. “Lily has plenty of friends. Everybody likes Lily.”

“Maybe she wanted a boy to pay attention to her.”

He threw up his hands. “I paid attention to her. I did a lot of stupid things to try to get her to notice me.”

Mamm's lips twitched. “Maybe she thought you were stupid.”

Dan chuckled in spite of himself. “I'm sure she did.” To keep his frustrated hands busy, he picked up a dish towel and started drying. Carefully. “I don't want to be stupid now.”

Mamm sighed, a gruff, it's-a-lost-cause sigh from deep in her throat. “Mostly, it would be better if you just let her alone. I'd rather not see you hurt.”

Dan bowed his head. “I'd rather not see me hurt either, but it will hurt worse if I don't try.”

Mamm gave him a firm pat on the arm. “Then give it a try. And try not to break anything.”

Chapter Seven

Lily unhitched Queenie from the buggy and made a beeline for the house. She was famished. A doughnut and half of the roll Paul didn't want hadn't even made a dent in her hunger. She deeply regretted giving a doughnut to Dan, mostly because she thought she might die of malnutrition, but partly because he had said such ugly things about her in school. He hadn't deserved that doughnut.

Upon thinking of Dan, a lump of coal settled in the pit of her stomach and her feet felt as heavy as if she were wading through a meadow of honey. She'd never make it to lifesaving food if her feet were stuck fast.

The smell of something substantial and delicious wafted from the house, giving her the determination to make it up the porch steps. She practically threw open the door and stumbled into the kitchen. Home. Nothing felt as good as home.

With spoon in hand, Aunt B stood at the stove stirring something in a large sauce pot. Poppy kneaded dough at the island. Nothing soothed a bad day like Poppy's homemade honey wheat bread. Rose stood next to Poppy, cutting out heart-shaped sugar cookies, no doubt to give to one of the neighbors. Rose was thoughtful like that. It was said that people in town scheduled unnecessary surgeries just so they'd get a plate of Rose Christner's treats. Aunt Bitsy had taught them how to cook, and all three of the Honeybee Sisters enjoyed making goodies in the kitchen, especially if they could be together.

Aunt B turned when she heard the door open and gave Lily an affectionate lift of her eyebrows, which said “I love you” better than any words could convey.

Lily took one look at Aunt B and forgot why she'd been so depressed. She giggled under her breath. Gawdy gold earrings hung from Aunt B's ears. They were so long, they brushed against her shoulders when she turned her head and tinkled softly with every movement. They looked oddly out of place next to her plain white
kapp
and drab gray dress, and they were altogether out of place in an Amish home, but Aunt B loved her earrings. She'd amassed quite a collection when she'd lived as an
Englischer,
and she'd told her girls that she couldn't bear to throw them away.

“I like your earrings, Aunt B,” Lily said. If they made Aunt B happy, they made Lily happy.

Aunt B fingered the post attached to her earlobe. “I wore these to my first Van Halen concert, 1986.”

Even though earrings would in no way meet with the bishop's approval, Aunt B pulled them out occasionally and wore them around the house. They brought her so much pleasure, and neither Lily nor her sisters would ever dream of tattling.

On bad days, she wore three earrings in each ear and sang strange
Englisch
songs that Lily had become familiar with.

“I'm starving. Is there anything to eat?”

“Dinner's not for two hours yet,” Poppy said.

Lily was so desperate, she considered pinching off a glob of Poppy's bread dough and stuffing it into her mouth. Instead, she went to the fridge, examined the shelves of sparse leftovers, and pulled out a dish of peas from last night's supper. Beggars couldn't be choosers. After grabbing a spoon from the drawer, she sat at the table with her snack and shoveled cold peas into her mouth.

Rose giggled and handed Lily a scoop of cookie dough. “You can have as much as you want.”

Aunt B pressed her lips together as if she were ready to scold someone but didn't have anyone to scold. “Did he take you to the restaurant again?”

Lily nodded and trained her eyes on her glob of cookie dough. She wouldn't be so ungrateful as to roll her eyes behind Paul's back. “He shared half his roll.”

Aunt B turned back to her steaming pot. “That boy,” she muttered.

Lily didn't want Aunt B to think badly of Paul. He was her future husband, probably, and she wanted her
aendi
to be wildly enthusiastic about the boy she married. Even though it was hard to come by, Aunt B's approval meant everything to Lily. “It's not really his fault. His family can't afford to feed me every time we go to the restaurant, and I didn't bring enough money to pay for my own meal.”

“Don't worry, Lily,” Rose said, placing the last of her cookies on the pan. “Aunt Bitsy wouldn't approve of Paul even if he were one of the blessed apostles.”

“That's right,” said Aunt Bitsy without turning around. “Nobody is good enough for my girls.”

Lily's mouth curved upward. That thought made her feel strangely better. Aunt B was cranky about boys in general; the three boys who had hung around Poppy last winter, the delivery boy who'd tried to flirt with Rose, and the bishop's son who acted interested in all three of them. Paul was no exception.

“Your meeting with Paul went wonderful-long,” Poppy said with an air of nonchalance. “Did he want to do some kissing afterward?”

Aunt B puckered her lips into what passed for a stern look. “Nobody is allowed to do any kissing in this house.”

Poppy's eyes sparkled mischievously. “That's okay, B. They weren't in our house.”

With her earrings tinkling merrily, Aunt B half growled, half laughed and swatted Poppy on the bottom with a spatula. “I'm watching you closest of all, Priscilla. Absolutely no kissing.”

Poppy squeaked, giggled, and went back to her bread dough. “No need to watch me. Boys are stupid. I'd have to scrub my lips off.”

“I wouldn't dare kiss a boy,” Rose said, glancing doubtfully at her sisters. “I'd have to have a conversation with him first, and the thought of talking to a boy scares me to death.”

“Who says you'd have to have a conversation first?” Poppy replied, pumping her eyebrows up and down.

Rose drew in a breath in amused shock. Lily laughed at the look on Aunt B's face.

Aunt B smothered a smile and jabbed her spatula in the air toward Poppy. “I'm watching you the closest.”

Poppy ignored Aunt B and leaned toward Lily with her hands pressed against the countertop. “So,
were
you kissing?”

Lily swallowed hard. Kissing Paul sounded like eating a spoonful of shortening. Why would she want to?

She knit her brows together. Would she have to talk herself into the idea?

She forced a smile and tried to put the thought of Paul's lips out of her mind. “Paul and I have never kissed.”

Aunt B turned her face to the ceiling. “
Denki,
Lord. I was beginning to think You hadn't heard my prayer this morning.”

Lily giggled. “You prayed that I wouldn't kiss Paul today?”

Aunt Bitsy curled one side of her mouth. “I prayed that He would keep you from the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Same thing.”

Kissing Paul wouldn't be as bad as a walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Would it? All the same, she was grateful to Aunt B for the prayer. It couldn't have hurt.

“After we ate, Paul wanted to show me some of the new products they're carrying at the market. They're buying a new freezer, so he showed me where it will go. The bishop has approved it.” Many Amish businesses used electricity and phones. Glick's market was nearly as modern as the Walmart in Shawano.

She didn't mention that Paul had also taken her back to his house to show her where he was going to build a house. He already had a floor plan mapped out and wanted to show her where everything in the house would be.

If she mentioned the property, the conversation would inevitably turn to why Paul wanted to build a house and if Lily planned on getting married this fall. They were questions she didn't want to answer. Questions she didn't even have the answers to.

Aunt B threw a pinch of salt into her pot and looked up. “I almost forgot. I wish I could forget. That other boy brought something for you.”

Lily's chest tightened. “What other boy?”

“That one boy who steps on dandelions and calls you names.”

Oh. That boy.

Aunt B searched briefly, as if she couldn't remember where she'd put it, then found it under one of the pillows on the window seat. “He begged me to be sure to give it to you.”

The tightening in the chest joined a sinking feeling in her stomach as she recognized the box. The entire nine-book
Little House on the Prairie
set. He was mocking her—mocking the ugly girl because her boyfriend had dared to stand up to him.

She bit down on her tongue to keep the tears from pooling in her eyes. Who cared what Dan Kanagy thought?

“He seemed upset. He probably stepped on my dandelions and didn't want me to know . . .” Aunt B paused midsentence and studied Lily's face.

Lifting her gaze, Rose gasped. She immediately rushed to Lily's side. Poppy weaved around the island and put an arm around Lily as if she thought she might faint.

“What's wrong, little sister?” Aunt Bitsy said, pulling up a chair and reaching out for Lily's hand. “Little sister” was what Aunt Bitsy called her when things were really bad.

Lily obviously wasn't very good at hiding her distress.

She huffed out a breath, embarrassed that she let the name-calling upset her. “Dan said something horrible.” Even though she'd heard it for the first time today, Dan had said the ugly words years ago. They had both been fourteen years old. It was plenty long to hold a grudge.

Poppy squeezed her shoulder. “I knew I should have shoved him harder the other day.”

“Oh dear,” Rose murmured, oozing compassion as she sat next to Aunt B at the table.

Lily couldn't resist all that sympathy. She burst into tears and buried her face in Aunt B's neck.

Aunt B rubbed Lily's earlobe between her thumb and forefinger. “There, there. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but a shotgun would really do the trick on that boy.”

Lily laughed in spite of herself.

“I'm serious,” Aunt B said.

She wasn't really, but she'd made Lily smile.

“I should have followed my instincts that first night and refused to let him in the house,” Aunt B said.

“Did you see him in town today?” Poppy asked. Lily could see the wheels turning in her head—probably resolving to accompany Lily wherever she went to protect her from stupid boys.

Lily's nose started running. Rose handed her a tissue. “He wasn't mean today. Paul told me that when we were in school Dan said I was ugly as a dog and that I belonged with the pigs instead of the other students.”

Poppy squeezed Lily's shoulder so hard, her fingers felt like a pair of carpenter clamps. “B, if you won't use the shotgun, I just might.”

Rose reached across the table and took Lily's hand. “You know that isn't true. You're as pretty as a garden of gladiolas.”

“And too good for a boy like Dan Kanagy,” Poppy said. Lily could already see her plotting revenge. How she loved her sisters!

The lines around Aunt B's mouth deepened. “Why would Paul tell you that?”

“He's my friend.”

Another line appeared between Aunt B's eyebrows, as deep as if someone had taken a plow to her face. “A true friend would never hurt you like that.”

“Paul didn't say it. Dan did.”

“But there was no reason for Paul to repeat it, especially when it happened years ago and hurt your feelings. You didn't need to know.”

“But, B,” Poppy said, “it's not Paul's fault.”

Aunt B shook her head. “It
is
Paul's fault. The only reason Lily is crying is because of what Paul told her.”

Taken aback by Aunt B's reaction, Lily sort of tripped over her own tongue. “But if someone said something bad about you, wouldn't you want to know?”

Aunt B folded her arms. “
Nae.
It would only upset me, and then I'd have one more person on my long list of people I need to forgive. Cruel words are always better left unsaid and unrepeated.”

Lily opened her mouth to argue but promptly closed it and studied the
Little House on the Prairie
books Aunt B had set on the table. Not only did Paul have a good memory about something that happened years ago, but he had seemed quite eager to share the bad news with Lily.

It was plain he didn't want Lily to have anything to do with Dan or his books, but could his contempt for Dan be more important to him than Lily's feelings? The thought sliced right through her heart.

She shook her head. How could she even entertain the idea that Paul deliberately wanted to hurt her? He would never do that. Aunt B simply didn't understand. Paul thought Lily was being too friendly with Dan—she'd given him one of her precious doughnuts, hadn't she?—and Paul simply wanted to remind her of the kind of boy Dan really was. He didn't want her to make a fool of herself with someone who thought she was as ugly as a dog.

“Paul never liked Dan,” Lily finally murmured.

Aunt B slapped the table. “Well, I don't like either of them. One's too big for his britches, and one's too small for his mouth.”

Lily almost smiled. Aunt B had never met a boy she liked.

Fire seemed to spew from Poppy's mouth. “I hope he comes to the gathering tomorrow night. I've half a mind to give him a knuckle sandwich.”

Lily held up her hand. “No one is giving anyone a knuckle sandwich.”

Poppy frowned. “It's just an expression.”

Aunt B sighed as if she felt it was her duty rather than her desire to correct Poppy. “A good Amish girl has taken a vow of nonviolence and does not talk about giving someone a knuckle sandwich, even if he deserves a mouthful of your fist.”

“I used to punch Dan Kanagy almost every day in school,” Poppy said.