Trading Secrets (22 page)

“Hello, Princess,” Dad says cheerfully as he comes into the house through the garage.

Despite my gloomy mood, I can't help but smile at the old term of endearment. “Someone must've had a good golf game,” I tease.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” He hangs his jacket by the back door. “And I have a great plan for our last evening with Zach.”

I give him a glum look.

“What?” he says defensively. “Did I say something wrong?”

I explain how I'm feeling out of sorts with Zach. “He just took off without saying a word.”

“Oh.” Dad nods. “Well, I'm sure that young man has a lot on his mind.”

“But how about all that I've done for him?” I demand. “I mean, I've given up my entire spring break for the guy. And that's the thanks I get?”

Dad gives me a crooked smile. “You did all that for
him
?”

I take in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “Yeah, okay, you're probably right. I did it for me too. But I really did want to—” I stop myself when I realize that Zach has just come in the front door.

“Hello there,” my dad calls out. “Just the guy I wanted to see.”

Zach joins us in the kitchen with a puzzled expression. “
Ja
? Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. In fact, I just had a chat with my brother, and he was singing your praises, Zach. He asked me to take you to dinner and a movie tonight to express his gratitude. You up for that?”

Zach brightens. “Sounds good to me.”

“Have you ever seen a movie before? In a theater?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Well, there just happens to be a great one playing. It involves airplanes and fast cars. Think you can handle that?”

Zach's eyes light up. “
Ja
. That sounds great.”

“All right then.” Dad looks at me. “You kids have about thirty minutes to get ready. We'll have dinner at Spencer's Grill first, and we should have plenty of time to make it to the 7:45 showing. Okay?”

I mutely agree, but I cannot say that I'm happy about this plan. However, since Zach seems to be thrilled, I go along with it. So this is how I am to spend my last evening with Zach—eating steak and potatoes and watching an action movie, with my dad as our chaperone. Okay, I know that's not really how Dad sees it. But that's how it feels to me.

By the time we're driving back home, everyone seems pretty tired. Since we plan to get up early tomorrow, hoping to get
to the air museum as soon as it opens, we all go to bed as soon as we get there. Still feeling irked after I'm in bed, I'm tempted to get up and sneak out in the hopes I can have a few final words with Zach. But realizing how that could be misinterpreted, I don't.

The next morning, after dropping my kitten at Lizzie's again (although Erika is the designated kitty-sitter since Lizzie is going shopping today), we get ready to begin our day trip. Zach places a large plastic bag containing his clothes in the trunk of Dad's car. I know his Amish clothes are in there too because I see the straw hat on top. Right now Zach's wearing Dad's hand-me-downs, though. I suspect he wants to be incognito while we visit the air museum, which, ironically, is a military museum. Something about an Amish guy, who's expected to be a pacifist, studying fighter jets might get him some unwanted attention.

When we get in the car, I insist Zach sit in front with Dad, saying that I prefer the backseat and my iPad. The truth is, I'm sulking. Very mature, I know. But I can't seem to help it. I tell myself that I'm actually grieving, that today is like the death of an old and cherished relationship. Because today my old pen pal and I will finally part ways. Oh, I knew it was inevitable all along, but I suppose I always hoped for something more.

I'm well aware that Zach's mood toward me changed when I brought up the subject of Rachel. That in itself is quite telling. When people overreact about something, it's usually because they feel deeply about it. I suspect that despite Zach's pretense of denial, he feels deeply about Rachel. Maybe he is secretly in love with her but afraid to admit it. I'm still curious about what happened that night when they spent
so much time together after everyone else was in bed. After all, he's a normal, healthy, eighteen-year-old boy. Who could blame him for finding the pretty Rachel attractive? Although, knowing Zach, I doubt he did anything disrespectful. He's just not that kind of guy.

I hate to admit it, but I actually respect Zach even more for keeping his feelings toward Rachel under cover. I suspect this is related to his general indecision about joining the Amish church. As aggravating as it might be to me personally, it's honorable for Zach to hold Rachel at arm's length like that, at least until he's ready to commit to the church, and then he can commit to her. That's how things are done there.

We arrive at the air museum shortly after the doors open. According to Dad, this is the best time to see everything without fighting the crowds. It seems he's right since we're practically the only ones there to start with. He enjoys showing Zach everything and sharing his aviation expertise. Naturally, Zach just eats it up. But after a while, I get bored. I mean, I've been to this museum lots of times, and yeah, the old jets are pretty cool, but enough is enough already. After a couple of hours, while they're ogling the F-14 Tomcat, I declare that I'm going to get a coffee and that I'll meet them outside when they're done. I'm not even sure they hear me. I'm not sure I care.

Eventually the two of them emerge, talking animatedly, and we all pile into the car again, driving south. “We should be there in less than two hours,” Dad announces. “But it's almost noon. Maybe we should grab some lunch along the way.” We discuss the options, finally deciding to just go with fast food in Akron and eat it on the road.

It's nearly 2:00 when we finally reach Zach's farm. The conversation between Dad and Zach really slowed down once we got to Hamrick's Bridge, and I can tell that Zach is deep in thought when Dad stops his car on the road adjacent to the farm. “Want me to go down the driveway, son?” he asks gently. “Or would it be better to just drop you off here?”

I'm studying Zach's profile as he presses his lips together. I can't even imagine what's going through his head. “Your clothes,” I say suddenly. “Will your parents be upset that you're dressed like an English guy?”

“
Ja
,” he says slowly. “Probably.”

“Do you want to go to town and change?” I ask. I'm actually hoping he does and that somehow this will be my opportunity to have one last word with him—in private.

“No,” he says firmly. “That's not necessary.”

We just sit there for what feels like several minutes but is probably just seconds. “If you don't mind, I'd like you to drive up to the house,” Zach tells my dad. “I want you to meet my parents if they're around.”

Okay, I'm thinking this is going to be awkward but interesting. Dad slowly turns and goes down the long driveway. “This is a beautiful place,” Dad says quietly, almost reverently. “I can see why you were charmed by it, Micah.”

I spot Zach's father and what appears to be young Samuel, heir to the farm, running to keep up with his dad as he strides through the pasture next to the barn. I can't deny that they look very picturesque in their matching straw hats, blue shirts, black pants, and suspenders. Mr. Miller is peering curiously at Dad's car, and I can tell he's headed our way. As we get closer to the house, I see Zach's mom
emerge from the back door. Wearing a dark green dress, she's still using her stick-cane and limping. I guess she wasn't faking it after all. She is followed by Rachel. I can only imagine how this little homecoming is going to play out. Poor Zach!

W
hat are you doing here?” Zach's father says as soon as we're out of the car. I can't tell if this is a question or an accusation. His stoic expression gives no clues.

“This is Micah's father,” Zach tells him. “Will Knight, I'd like you to meet my daed, John Miller.”

My dad steps up to Zach's dad, as if this is all perfectly normal, and extends his hand. “I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Miller. You've raised a fine son.”

Zach's dad is caught off guard as Dad shakes his hand. “Thank you.”

“We've enjoyed his visit in our home.”

“What are you wearing?” Zach's mother demands as she hobbles up to us. “Why do you come dressed like that, Zachary John?”

Zach looks down at his clothes as if he's just remembered his attire, then shrugs. “Does it really matter what a man wears?”

“Ja.”
Her head bobs up and down vigorously. “It does. You know it does.”

“What's more important, Mamm? A man's exterior or a man's interior?”

“Obedience in the outward things reflects obedience in the inward things,” she shoots back at him.

Zach's dad says something in Pennsylvania Dutch, and Zach's mother presses her lips tightly together as if she's been shushed, but her dark eyes are full of fire. She looks as if she's about to explode.

“Have you come home to stay?” Rachel asks cheerfully. “You know we've all been worried about you, Zach. Your father needs help in the fields.”

“
Ja
,” Zach's dad agrees. “I do need help.”

“How is Molly?” Zach says suddenly. “Have you given her the medicine like I instructed in the note?”

“
Ja
. Mostly.” He rubs his fringed chin with a frown. “Maybe not today.”

“Not today?” Zach frowns. “She is supposed to finish it all.”

“She is fine, Zach.”

“No.” Zach firmly shakes his head. “She could get sick again, Daed. She needs the medicine.” And just like that he storms off toward the barn.

“He cares more about animals than his own family,” Zach's mother says bitterly. “He is a worthless son.”

Unable to keep my mouth shut, I step up to her. “Zach saved Molly's life,” I tell her in a calm but intense voice. “He probably saved the colt too. Then he paid for the veterinarian with his own money—three hundred dollars of his hard-earned money. Do you think he did all that for himself? It's not like he owns those horses, does he? No, he did that for you. He did it for his family. Zach is not a worthless son.” I
glance over to see Zach has stopped with a mixture of shock and appreciation on his face. I turn back to his mother. “You just don't see what you have. You've raised a fine son and you don't even know it.” I pause to take a breath, and feeling Dad's hand on my shoulder, I step back.

“I agree with Micah. Zach is definitely not worthless, Mrs. Miller.”

“
Ja
,” Zach's father says humbly. “He is not worthless. My wife didn't mean it like that.”

“Zach is a good boy,” Dad continues. “You both should be very proud of him.”

“Proud?”
Zach's mother looks angry. “Pride is sin, Mr. Knight.” She says something in Pennsylvania Dutch again. It honestly sounds like she's cursing. Then she turns around and starts to hobble back to the house. “Come, Rachel,” she calls out in a sharp tone. “We have work to do.”

Rachel looks torn, glancing with worried eyes toward the barn—I'm sure she'd like to go comfort Zach. Instead she hurries to catch up with Zach's mother.

“I'm sorry if our visit has upset your family,” Dad says to Zach's father. “For some reason he wanted us to meet you.” As Dad thanks Mr. Miller for letting me visit their farm, I turn away and run over to the barn. Maybe this is my chance to have a few last words with Zach.

I find him in the livestock pasture next to the barn, and he seems to be examining Molly.

“How is she?” I ask quietly.

“All right, I think. But I gave her a double dose of antibiotics just to be safe. She still has four days left of the medicine. I don't know why Daed doesn't take that more seriously. She's been a valuable broodmare. If she gets sick, it won't be easy
caring for the colt. He's valuable too. Usually Daed shows more concern for his livestock.” He shakes his head. “Except that he doesn't much like vets.”

“Oh.” I reach over to pet Molly's head. “I hope you get all well,” I tell her. “Take your meds and take care of your baby.” Knowing my time is limited, I turn to Zach. “I know that I said something offensive to you yesterday,” I say quietly. “I think it had to do with Rachel. I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sure whatever I said was totally stupid, but what I meant to say is that she's a nice girl. I felt like I needed to clarify that because the truth is, I really didn't like her when I first met her, and I wasn't sure if I'd said something negative to you about her. I'm pretty sure she's in love with you, Zach, and it's possible you could come to love her too. If you end up together, I wish you the very best. I think that's what I was trying to say.” I feel a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. “Whatever you do, Zach, I really do wish you the best. You've been a good friend to me for more than six years. Even though I know our friendship can't continue, you'll always have a special place in my heart.” I force a misty smile. “And I will be praying for God to direct your path, Zach.” I get on my tiptoes, since Zach is a couple inches taller than me, and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Zach, for everything.” Then I turn and run back to where Dad's still talking to Mr. Miller.

“It's time to go,” I say abruptly.

Dad sees the tears streaming down my cheeks and stops in midsentence, telling Zach's dad a hasty good-bye. We both get into the car and Dad drives, more quickly than before, down the driveway and out to the road.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“I don't know,” I confess, finally allowing the tears to flow freely.

“Well, I have to admit that confrontation with Zach's parents was pretty stressful,” Dad says as he cautiously passes a horse-drawn buggy.

“Yeah.” I sniff loudly.

“And you've had a long, trying week, Micah. I suspect you're emotionally drained. It's understandable. I just hope you're ready to go back to school tomorrow.”

I nod as I blow my nose on one of the fast food napkins. “Me too.”

“You're going to be okay,” he says gently.

“I know.” I let out a choked sob. “It just—just feels like I—like I lost my best friend.”

“I'm sorry,” Dad says. And then, thankfully, he doesn't say anything else for the next hour or so. He just silently drives, allowing me to grieve.