Adoring Addie by Leslie Gould Read Free Book Online Page B

motioned for me to come sit beside her, and I obeyed. Now she was whispering. “Believe me, you don’t want to end up like Nell. Life would have been much easier for her—and all of us—if she’d married years ago. Instead—”
    â€œLaurel.” Aenti Nell spun around from the sink. “Don’t.”
    My mother stared at her sister for a long moment, and then, with Aenti Nell still watching us, widened her eyes and nodded at me, as if my aunt’s reaction proved Mutter’s point.
    But I had no idea what, exactly, she meant. I stood and began putting the food away, telling Joe-Joe to go brush his teeth.
    â€œBilly needs to get to bed too,” Mutter said.
    â€œJah,” I answered. And then I needed to clean the bathroom so it would be usable tomorrow and clean the kitchen and sweep after Aenti Nell finished the dishes. In the morning I’d need to fix breakfast, make the coleslaw, bake the rolls, and marinate the chicken Daed would barbecue later in the day. Then slice the watermelon and make the date pudding. Maybe Mutter had been right—maybe I shouldn’t have gone to the market. Maybe I should have stayed home and worked.
    Joe-Joe took my hand, turning his face up toward mine, showing the sprinkling of freckles across his nose. “Will you read me a story?”
    I was tempted to say no because of all I had to do, but honestly, putting Joe-Joe to bed was one of my favorite parts of the day.
    â€œJah,” I answered. “Go pick one out.” He scurried into the living room straight to the basket from the bookmobile while I stepped outside to call Billy into the house.
    Mutter was wrong. Phillip hadn’t left. He and Daed, with Billy running circles around them, were standing in the driveway next to Phillip’s buggy, deep in conversation. My heart raced until Daed pointed to the field of corn and I realized they were talking about the crops.
    Beyond them, in the distance on the lane by the patch of sweet peas, stood a man I didn’t recognize. His head was held high, his hat back, and he appeared to be looking at the fading sky. Maybe he hoped to see the first star. Or perhaps he was whistling at the birds bedding down in their nests in the poplars that lined the lane. His profile was toward me, nearly silhouetted against the setting sun. In the dim light, his hair, what I could see, appeared to be the color of the summer moon.
    As if he sensed me watching him, he glanced my way and smiled. Then he turned and strolled up the lane.
    I stared after him until Phillip caught my eye. He waved. I responded, quickly, and backed into the house, pulling the door shut behind me.

C HAPTER
3
    Like all communities, Plain people have our fair share of dysfunctional families, a term I’d learned from my cousin Cate. Just a week ago she mentioned she’d been reading about middle children, who typically long for more attention, and how some are pleasers and others are terrors. I was pretty sure she had me and Timothy in mind.
    â€œThe terrors take too many risks,” she’d said, “and the pleasers not enough.”
    I thought she was on to something though, at least as far as I was concerned. I was a pleaser. I’d been trying to please my parents my entire life, feeling as if I needed to win their approval. But no matter what I did, it was never enough. I couldn’t measure up to what they wanted or, for that matter, what God wanted.
    Still, all I knew to do was keep trying.
    But it was funny how Cate’s passing comment got me thinking and, looking back on it, had even inspired me to go to the market against Mutter’s wishes. It was also the reason I began evaluating how I felt about Phillip. Was he truly what I wanted? Or was my motivation in courting him to please my parents?
    As I dressed at five o’clock the next morning, I found myself wondering about taking risks. It wasn’t the norm for an Amish girl to take