A Stranger's Wish by Gayle Roper Page B

before you come in.” She put the report back. “I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do.”
    I nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.”
    I found Todd sitting in the car listening to a Phillies game. He was rapping his fingers against the wheel, obviously annoyed at the length of my visit—or was it at the Phillies and their three-point deficit?
    “We missed the movie,” he announced with the import of a president announcing, “We lost the war.”
    I shrugged. “So we’ll see it next week.”
    He just looked at me. Todd was a man who didn’t shift mental gears easily. If you planned to see a movie, by George, that’s what you were supposed to do. “Now what?” he asked.
    “How about home?” I said brusquely. I was tired of the responsibility for ruining his life.
    We rode the whole way back to the farm in sticky silence. If I put my mind to it, I could be just as stubborn and childish as he could, undoubtedly the mark of a petty person.
    As we pulled into the driveway at the farm, our headlights illuminated Ruth and Elam seated in an open buggy, their horse impatiently shaking its head.
    Todd pulled up beside them and stopped wheel to wheel with the buggy on my side. I rolled down my window.
    “Are you coming or going?” I asked.
    “There’s a barn dance tonight at Jake Lapp’s.” Ruth’s voice was bright with anticipation. “Everybody’s going to be there.”
    “Including you two, I assume.”
    “You’ve got that right,” Elam said.
    “Have a good time!” I waved as they pulled onto the road.
    “We will,” called Elam, flicking the reins across the horse’s rump.
    They disappeared down the road, the soft jingling of the bridle mingling with the muted rattle of bottles.
    “Beer,” Todd said critically. “Hear that? He’s got a case of beer in the back of the buggy.”
    “I’m still amazed at Amish dating customs,” I said, momentarily forgetting how miffed I was at him. “Unchaperoned dances, drinking, smoking, pairing off in the darkness. Our pastor would have a fit if his young people acted that way, but the Amish elders seem to accept it—or at least put up with it.”
    Todd shrugged. “ Rumspringa . This kind of dating encourages early marriage, and the sooner they marry, the less likely they are to leave the group. A single person might risk being shunned, but a married person has many more golden chains binding him to the church and community.” He snorted. “Sort of like life insurance, only it’s lifestyle insurance.”
    “That’s a pretty snarky tone,” I snapped in a pretty snarky voice of my own.
    We sat awkwardly as silence enveloped us again. Such tension was so unusual between us that I wasn’t certain how to deal with it. Todd appeared as confused as I was.
    Finally I said, “At least they’re in the buggy, not a car. Or on a motorcycle.”
    “Meaning?”
    “That they’re not being too rebellious.” Still, I imagined that after the experience with Jake, Mary and John worried about these two.
    Todd shrugged and the sounds of the night creatures filled the car.
    “Well, good night,” I said after a few minutes and climbed out of the car.
    “Um,” he said eloquently, climbing out and stalking up the walk after me. He bent to kiss me good night, and I turned my head, offering only my cheek.
    “What?” he said in that snarky voice. “I’m supposed to kiss it and make it better?”
    That’s when I realized I’d raised my bandaged cheek to him. “Very funny.” I sniffed and let myself into the darkened house without a goodbye of any kind. It was a relief to be alone.
    I crossed the main room quietly, taking care not to disturb Mary and John, who were already in bed in their room at the top of the main house stairs. Was Mary like my mother, who never slept until Patty and I got home from wherever we were? Or did acceptance of rumspringa allow her to sleep? Or maybe plain old exhaustion from her heavy workload pulled her under. Whatever, the house