For Sure & Certain by Anya Monroe Read Free Book Online Page A

disappointment.”
    “That makes two of us.”
    Seeing a shadow of sadness in is eyes, Marigold had an idea. “Can I show you D.C. today? Since you’re on Rumspringa, or whatever, you should probably have a proper running around.”
    “You want to run around with me?”
    “Yes.”
    So they did.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    chapter three
     
    Abel
     
    Walking out of the café, Abel put his hands in his pockets, surprised at how relaxed he felt in Marigold’s presence. Her hair hung to her waist, in a way that no Amish girl ever would. Women at home keep their hair wrapped in a bun under a small kapp, but she doesn’t appear sacrilegious in her choice.
    She looks like an angel, and his mind flashes to the night he arrived, walking past the graveyard, when he saw a girl throwing coins in a fountain. That girl was Marigold.
    “So, is this weird? I mean, we don’t know one another.” Marigold looked at him as they walked.
    “Should it be weird?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “I don’t feel weird.”
    “Are you always so honest? Is that an Amish thing, saying how you feel?”
    At this Abel laughed, for he knew it was as far from Amish as anything. “No, I’m forever getting a hard time for speaking my mind freely. For asking questions when I oughtn’t. For being my own person.”
    “That’s why you wanted to come to college? To try out being your own person?”
    “I just like learning, that’s why I came.”
    “Okay, I know exactly where we’re going then.”
    Marigold hailed a cab and fifteen minutes later they were at the Smithsonian Institution.
    “You haven’t been here, have you?”
    “No, but my roommate said we should come.”
    “Will he be mad you came without him?”
    Her thoughtfulness touched him, but he shook his head. “No, Lacey will be just fine. He’s probably too high to even remember mentioning it.” Lacey got stoned every night, and when high seemed to ramble about art and politics and religion— everything taboo for an Amish guy.
    “Well, you could come a hundred times and still never see everything.”
    They walked to a map and Marigold told him to pick a place. When he chose an exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery she smiled. “ American Cool ?”
    “I should learn a bit about that shouldn’t I? I mean, really,” he began reading the exhibits description with an embellished accent, trying to hide his obvious Pennsylvania Dutch, “ What do we mean when we say someone is cool? Cool carries a social charge of rebellious self-expression, charisma, edge, and mystery. ”              
    “Touché.” Marigold laughed and Abel’s shoulders straightened a bit when she did, wondering why he was so easy-going here, with her. A girl who was off-limits if he was going to go back home. A girl who couldn’t be more than a fun time, because he was expected to be with a girl like Esther.
    A girl, who wore a kapp, quilted, and bowed her head reverently. Not a girl like Marigold, whose laughter filled a room. Abel wondered if that’s what the bishop meant when he said was too easily swayed by the lure of the outside world.
    But Abel didn’t feel swayed, he just felt happy, and he let his shoulders relax. The afternoon passed quickly, at each photograph they would attempt to match the portrait’s posed coolness, laughing the entire time. Marigold transformed easily, as if her body and face were moldable, easily altered to a serious stance, and the next an exaggerated smirk.
    Abel was less successful, and Marigold took his arm to reposition it to match, or order him to jut out his foot just so. When she pulled out her phone to snap a photo, Abel shook his head.
    “Why not? You look seriously cool. ”
    “Amish don’t take pictures, it’s a whole ‘no graven images’ thing.”
    “Oh, sorry.” She put the phone back in her bag.
    “Don’t be.”
    “Does it bother you, being different?”
    “Nope.”
    “You’ve just always been comfortable