"Of course you can," I nodded as I set the plate full of pancakes on the table and sat down. We all folded our hands and turned our eyes toward our brother as he si
gned the blessing.
"Bless this food and bless the family who eats it," he signed. "And look after Mamm and Dat who are with you, Lord, in heaven. Amen."
"Amen," we three replied. Danny nodded his head and reached for the plate of pancakes in front of him as the rest of us wiped our eyes. I added my own silent plea for help and guidance hoping that I'd make the right decisions for my younger siblings.
Chapter Twelve
Adam
"Mr. Wallace, I've got breakfast on the table if you're hungry!" Mrs. Yoder called up the stairs at an hour that could only be described as unholy. The sun wasn't even up yet, why did she think I wanted to be?
"Mmm hmm," I mumbled as I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.
"Mr. Wallace!" she called again. "If you're going to try and catch Bishop Miller, you're going to have to get to the factory very early!"
"Crap," I muttered as I reluctantly threw off the covers and swung my feet over the edge of the bed. I didn't want to get up, but Mrs. Yoder was right, so I got up, splashed some water on my face, and then got dressed before descending to the kitchen for breakfast.
"This is what you're wearing to meet Bishop Miller?" Mrs. Yoder asked as she put plate full of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast in front of me.
"Yes, why?" I said as I picked up my fork and prepared to dig in.
"No, no, no," she said shaking her head disapprovingly as she looked at the fork in my hand. "We have the blessing first, Mr. Wallace, then we can talk about your clothes."
Irritated, but trying to hide it, I put my fork down and bowed my head. I stared at the chipped edge of my breakfast plate and wondered how many more days I'd have to put up with this nosy interloper before I could pack up and head back to Chicago. I hadn't known this woman for twenty-four hours and she was already trying to boss me around. I'd have to nip this in the bud before it went too far.
"Amen," Mrs. Yoder said, nodding at me to let me know it was okay to eat.
"Amen," I echoed as I picked up my fork and began shoveling food into my mouth.
"So, you meet with Bishop Miller this morning," Mrs. Yoder said as she spread a thin layer of blueberry preserves onto her toast. "You should wear plain clothing, not the fancy outfit you have on."
"I'd hardly call this suit fancy," I replied as I looked down and considered the gray pinstripe pants and the white dress shirt I was wearing.
You're not married, are you, Mr. Wallace?"
"No, why?" I asked.
"Unmarried Amish men shave," she said as she bit into her toast and chewed, saying nothing more. The look on her face told me that she was holding something back, or maybe it was just that she thought she knew better. I didn't know, but the fact that this small, old woman was judging things she obviously didn't understand irked me.
"Well, I'm not Amish, am I?" I replied brusquely.
"He knows you are coming to see him?" she asked and I shook my head. She set her toast down and made a tsk tsk noise as she shook her head. "This is not very polite, Mr. Wallace."
"It's business, Mrs. Yoder," I replied before stuffing half of a slice of bacon into my mouth.
"That may be the way you do business in the city, but this is not how we do it here," she scolded. "If you want to get things done in Corner Grove, you had better learn how to do business our way, Mr. Wallace."
"Well, I haven't had trouble doing business with anyone before, Mrs. Yoder," I said, flashing her a fake smile that was intended to shut her up. "I find that the straightforward approach tends to work best with most businessmen."
"Ah, well, you big city folk know best, don't you?" she said with a smile that I recognized as one that would normally be given to small children who didn't know any better. She picked up her toast and took a bite.
We ate the rest of our meal in silence, and when we were done, I half-heartedly grabbed my plate and cup to take them out to the kitchen, but Mrs. Yoder waved me off and said, "Get over to the factory and see if Bishop Miller will see you this morning. It's still early. God bless you, Mr. Wallace."
I nodded and headed out to the car reassuring myself that this was going to be a quick meeting and an easy sale, and that God was going have nothing to do with it.
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