"Are we the same person on the inside that others see on the outside?"
Reviewed by Viki Ferrell
Posted July 2, 2011
Christian | Romance Contemporary
Ten years ago at summer camp, Katy, Lil and Megan made a
pact to move in together when they were older. That summer
Katy also told her two best friends she was going to marry
Jake Byler. The trio became known as The Three Bean Salad.
They would remain best friends forever. And Jake did become
Katy's boyfriend, until he went away to college and fell
away from the Mennonite faith. He broke Katy's heart. Lil finished culinary school and is working in an Italian
restaurant. Megan is in college and Katy cleans houses for
several different people. The Three Bean Salad girls are
saving money so they can move in together. They have just
learned that the doddy house of a fellow Mennonite family in
their community is going to be available for rent. Only Lil
and Katy can move in now, but Megan plans to join them after
she graduates. There's just one catch for Katy. Her dad puts three
stipulations on her moving in with her friends. One of those
stipulations is to have three dates with David Miller. What
an odd request coming from her dad! He knows that Jake is
coming back to the church and their community and he's
afraid Katy will fall for him again. She grieved so long
when he left. Katy fulfills her three-date obligation with David, feeling
the whole time that she is being a user. The girls move into
their remodeled doddy house and realize a dream come true
after all these years. However, Katy cannot stop the
yearning in her heart to be with Jake. But can she ever
trust him again? Jake and Katy do get back together and she is happier than
she has been in years. But she continually scrutinizes
everything Jake does and says and is very judgmental of
everyone. Jake tells her she is not the same girl he fell in
love with years ago. He says she is self-righteous,
mean-spirited and stubborn. The words hurt her deeply, but
she realizes they are true. Can their relationship be restored? Dianne Christner has written a lovely Mennonite romance,
presenting some of the struggles that their young people go
through in remaining close to their faith, families and
community. The story gives some real introspect into how
they view themselves and outsiders. The main character,
Katy Yoder, has chosen to be a housekeeper as her
profession. Throughout the story, she keeps a journal of
cleaning tips and recipes, hand cream remedies and their
recipes, and spiritual insights. Her journal is shared at
the end of the book. If you're a fan of Amish or Mennonite
inspirational romances, you'll really enjoy this one.
SUMMARY
Travel to Plain City, Ohio, to witness the Mennonite and
English culture clash. As Katy Yoder accepts a new job and
struggles to define her place in the world, childhood
friends and a past romance get in the way. Even when her
friends try to help her change her judgmental attitude, Katy
is certain that seeing things as black and white is the only
way to please God. But as love softens her heart, slowly
shades of gray seep into her world, and she discovers the
right answer isn’t always the easiest one.
ExcerptPrologue
Ouch! Stop it!" Ten-year-old Katy Yoder howled, her head
pinned to the back of the car seat until she could uncoil
Jake Byler’s fingers from her ponytail. She glared at the
unrepentant boy—though she secretly relished the
attention—and flipped her hair to the front of her buttoned
blouse. In return, he flashed her a lopsided grin.
With Plain City, Ohio, one hundred miles behind them, the
van continued to eat up the asphalt and soon veered off the
interstate onto a dusty road that could churn soda pop into
butter. The boys whooped, but Katy’s stomach did a little
somersault. Under normal circumstances, curvy roads turned
her green, but she was also fretting over the unknowns of
her first camp experience.
The driver shut off the ignition in front of a
rectangular, log building. With ambivalence, Katy
scrutinized the green-lettered sign identifying Camp
Victoria. The side door slid open, startling her as the boys
scrambled over her, all elbows and knees, to exit the van.
She squealed a protest and piled out after them. Then the
children jostled into the parking lot and remained in a
cluster like a group of balloons, where they drew attention,
not for their festive splash but for their plainness.
Jake, who had pulled Katy’s ponytail twice on the road
trip, curled his lip and elbowed Chad Penner. Katy turned to
see what tickled them. Her cheeks flamed to watch the boys
act like first graders over some girls in shorts and
brightly colored Ts.
She tossed her black ponytail and nudged Megan Weaver.
"Stupid boys. Act like they never saw shorts before."
"Probably not on church girls," Megan replied. "Those
girls are looking this way. Should we go talk to them?"
Lillian Mae Landis, the third friend in their tight trio,
frowned at her navy culottes. "I wish my mom would let me
wear shorts."
For Katy, her homemade culottes afforded more freedom
than her normal below-the-calf skirts, and she would die
before she showed her legs. She smoothed the cotton folds
that clung to her legs and studied the other girls. "I hope
they’re nice." She gently bit her lip, wondering if they
knew how to play Red Rover. Or would they take greater
pleasure in calling her ugly names like "Plain Jane"?
One of the shorts-clad girls waved.
"Let’s go," Lil urged.
To Katy’s relief, it turned out that a girl in green
shorts had a cousin who lived in Plain City. The common
acquaintance gapped the bridge between the Mennonite girls
in shorts and the more conservative ones wearing culottes,
which was fortunate since their sleeping bags and duffels
all landed in the same cabin.
After participating in a long morning of organized
activities, the Plain City girls took advantage of a few
minutes of relaxation. Katy squinted up through glistening
leaves, trying to locate an angry, chattering squirrel.
Lil propped an elbow on a bare, chubby knee. "Let’s name
ourselves after something that comes in threes." Their
counselor had just divided their cabin in teams of three and
given them fifteen minutes to name their group.
Katy gave up on the squirrel and tried to ignore the
tight-fitting shorts Lil had already borrowed from a cabin
mate. Things that come in threes. She twirled her long,
black ponytail and thought about the picture books she’d
read to entertain her younger siblings while her mother
shelled peas. "There’s the three bears, three Billy goats,
three little pigs—"
"Nah." Lil tilted her leg this way and that.
"Everybody’ll think of those."
"How about the Trinity?"
"Yeah, I like it," Megan’s face glowed. Katy wasn’t sure
if Megan was excited about her suggestion, or if she sported
a sunburn. She was the only person Katy knew whose skin was
as pale as white chinaware with hair as light as yellow
thread. Lil was light-complected, too, but her freckles
camouflaged it.
With a scowl, Lil said, "No way. Too holy."
"She’s right." Megan reconsidered, nibbling at the tip of
one of her blond braids.
Lil’s blue eyes lit with cunning, and Katy inwardly
cringed. "Three Bean Salad! Nobody else will pick that name."
"Huh?" The other two scowled. Leave it to Lil to think of
food, Katy thought.
"Don’t you see? It’s perfect. Megan is the green bean
since her parents are always talking about stewardship and
recycling. I’m the garbanzo." Lil shimmied her shoulders and
singsonged, "Gar–ban–zo." She pointed at Katy. "And you can
be the kidney bean."
"What? I hate it. Do you even know what a kidney does?"
"You’re just a kid with a knee. Get it?"
Katy watched Lil pat her bare knee again. "That’s stupid.
My knees never show." She hoped Lil got the point that at
least she was a modest person.
"Sometimes they do in your culottes," Megan remarked.
Katy’s ears turned pink. "What?"
"I only saw them once in the morning relay." Megan
sighed. "Never mind. Would you rather be the green bean?"
"Red’s her favorite color," Katy tossed her head toward
Lil and pulled her culottes down below the middle of her
shins. "If Lil’s so set on it, let her be the kidney bean."
Megan turned up her palms. "Will you two stop arguing?
We’ll be three peas in a pod; then we can all be the same."
Lil rolled her gaze heavenward. "It’s two peas in a pod,
and we’re not the same at all."
"Got that right," Katy grumbled, thinking about the giant
dishpan full of green pellets her mother had shelled. She
didn’t want to be a pea, either. She’d rather be a bear or a
musketeer or even a stooge. What were her friends thinking?
All ten years of their lives, the girls had done things
together. They sat in pews at the same Conservative
Mennonite church, learned their multiplication tables at the
same blackboard, and played tag with the same ornery boys.
But their personalities were as far apart as the tips of a
triangle. They went to all the same potlucks, but their
plates never looked identical. And although Lil and Katy
hardly ever agreed on anything, they loved each other
something fierce. When they didn’t remember that, Megan
reminded them.
"Why not three strands to a rope? That’s cool." Megan
fingered her braid. "Like this."
Lil crossed her arms and wouldn’t budge. "Three Bean Salad."
Katy glared. She could blackmail her, threaten to tell
Mrs. Landis about Lil’s shorts, but Megan would never permit
it. So because their leader chose that moment to blow her
pink whistle, Three Bean Salad it remained for the rest of
the week.
The campfire events rocked. A new word Katy had learned.
As the highlight of each day, it opened Katy’s eyes to a
world that existed beyond her sheltered home life. She
didn’t miss how Megan leaned forward with starry eyes during
the mission stories. When they lay in their bunks at night,
while Lil and their leader, Mary, did sit-ups on the cabin
floor, Megan chatted about Djibouti and Tanzania.
For Katy, the singing rocked most, even though she knew
she sang off-key. The words expressed her heart, and she
felt like she might burst with love for Jesus. She wished
the world could share her happiness. It saddened her to
watch Lil mimic the other girls from their cabin.
She glanced sideways now. Lil’s freckles practically
glowed in the firelight. She was happy, but Katy wished she
could hug her friend to her senses. Lil pulled her blue
sweater tight around her shoulders, her gaze wistfully
trailing the kids now breaking the circle, some heading
toward the cabins. "I never want this week to end," she
murmured.
"Me either," Katy whispered.
Lil glanced into the shadows where their leader stood
talking to another camp counselor. "She’s so beautiful."
Megan and Katy leaned forward and looked to their right
at Lil. "Who?"
"Mary."
"Oh." They leaned back. All three girls had fallen under
Mary’s spell. She was kind, patient, and told great Bible
stories. To Lil’s fascination, she was also beautiful and
planning a wedding.
Lil clenched her fists. "I know how we can make this
last. Let’s make a vow tonight that when we’re Mary’s age
we’ll all move in together. It’ll be like camp. Only forever."
Katy furrowed her brow. "We’ll probably get married."
"Just until we marry. And we’ll be each other’s
bridesmaids, too! Oh, swear it!"
Feeling sad that Lil caught so little of what camp was
really about, Katy frowned. "You know Mennonites don’t swear
or take oaths."
Lil placed her head in her hands and stared at her
borrowed jeans.
Megan, who was seated on the log between them, reached
out and clasped each of their hands. "The Bible says where
two or three are gathered and agree on something, that God
honors it."
Twisting her ponytail with her free hand, Katy frowned.
"What?"
"Sometimes my parents remind God about it when they pray."
"Really?" Katy asked, amazed.
Megan nodded, and her voice grew grave. "We can agree,
but we must never break a promise."
Katy swallowed. Her heart beat fast. Lil’s gaze begged.
"I promise." Katy squeezed Megan’s hand. "And I already know
who I’m going to marry."
The other two whipped their gazes to the left. "You do?"
"Jake Byler. He always lets me cut in front of him in line."
Over the next decade, Katy wondered if Lil had made a
second oath that night. She must have vowed to never let
them break their promise to each other.
Chapter 1
Ten years later
Katy Yoder skimmed a white-gloved finger across the
edge of the fireplace mantel. The holiday decorations, such
extravagance forbidden at her own home, slowed her task. It
wasn’t just the matter of working around them; it was the
assessing of them. Feeling a bit like Cinderella at the
ball, she swiped her feather duster, easing it around the
angel figurines and Christmas garland. A red plastic berry
bounced to the floor, and she stooped to retrieve it, poking
it back into place with care.
Her mother, like most members of her Mennonite
congregation, shunned such frivolity. Gabriel of the Bible,
the angel who visited the Virgin Mary, probably looked
nothing like these gilded collectibles. Nevertheless, the
manger scene caused warm puddles to pool deep inside her
heart, a secret place of confusing desires that she kept
properly disguised, covered with her crisp white blouse and
ever-busy hands.
The pine-scented tree occupying the corner of the room
moved her with wonder. Not the ornaments, but the twinkling
white lights, little dots of hope. The cheery music jingling
in the background was not forbidden. She mouthed the words
to "Silent Night." In December they often sang the hymn at
her meetinghouse. But her singing was interrupted mid-stanza
as her employer’s gravelly voice brought her out of her
reverie. Instinctively, she lowered her arm and whirled.
Mr. Beverly’s lips thinned and his white mustache
twitched. "Katy. We need to talk." Bands of deep wrinkles
creased his forehead. "I have bad news," he said. His petite
wife stood at his side, twisting her diamond ring.
Apprehension marched up Katy’s neck. Could it be a
terminal illness? In their late seventies, the couple kept
active for their age, always off on golfing vacations. Katy
had grown fond of them. Smiles softened their conversation,
and their hands were quick to hand her trusted keys and
gifts. They even bought her a sweater for her birthday, made
from some heavenly soft fabric. Katy gripped the duster’s
handle with both hands. "Oh?"
"We’re going to have to let you go."
Her jaw gaped. Never had she expected such news. "But. .
.but I thought you were pleased." Her mind scrambled for
some slipup, some blunder.
Mrs. Beverly rushed forward and touched Katy’s white
sleeve. "No. No. It’s nothing like that. Our son wants us to
move to Florida." She glanced at her husband. "At our age,
it’s overdue."
Katy propped the duster against an armchair and smoothed
the apron that covered her dark, A-line skirt. "But is this
what you want? Is there a problem with your health?"
Mrs. Beverly glanced at the beige shag carpet and back to
Katy’s face. "Just the usual, but we’re not getting any
younger." Mr. Beverly squeezed his wife’s shoulder. "We’ll
give you a good reference."
Katy didn’t need a reference. She needed a job. This
particular job. Her best-paying, two-day-a-week job. To
Katy, the tidy, easy-to-clean house classified as a dream
job fast becoming a nightmare, if she was to lose it just
when the doddy house came up for rent. Forcing a smile, Katy
nodded. "I appreciate that. When will you leave?"
"Right away. We’re turning the house over to a Realtor.
Our son is coming to help us sell some things. There’s
really no need for you to come again. I’m sorry we couldn’t
give you more notice. But we are giving you a Christmas bonus."
Katy patted Mrs. Beverly’s manicured hand. "Thank you.
You have enough to worry about; don’t concern yourself with
me." She bit her lip, thinking, I do that well enough for
the both of us.
"We’ll leave you to your work, then," Mr. Beverly cut in.
He nudged his wife’s elbow, but she looked regretfully over
her shoulder at Katy. "Come along, dear," he urged. Then to
Katy, he called, "Your money’s on the counter as usual.
Please leave us your house key."
"Yes sir," Katy replied, watching them depart through an
arched entryway. Mr. Beverly paused under the mistletoe to
peck his wife’s delicate cheek before they headed out for
the mall. The tender gesture gripped Katy. It never ceased
to amaze her when folks who never went to church loved like
that. At least she assumed they didn’t go to church, for she
dusted their wine collection, R-rated DVDs, and sexy novel
flaps without noticing any evidence of Christianity in their
home except for one solitary Bible. It always stayed put,
tucked between Pride and Prejudice and Birds of Ohio Field
Guide. That’s why the Beverlys’ consistent kindness and
loving behavior was so disturbing.
As usual, anything romantic always reminded Katy of Jake
Byler. Growing up, she was sure they’d marry, and because of
his daring, often reckless behavior, she had dreamed of
sharing an adventuresome life with him. In their teen years,
he stared at her with an ardor that melted her toes through
her black stockings. He’d give her a dimpled grin or a wink,
never embarrassed. Every autumn at the youth hayride, he’d
claimed her hand. And after he got his own truck, he took
her home from fellowship functions and stole kisses at her
back door. She’d always loved him.
Just before he’d graduated from high school, their
relationship had started to wilt. Katy grabbed a watering
pitcher and marched to Mrs. Beverly’s poinsettia. Her
employer was as clueless about plants as Katy was about
relationships. Had she caused him to become restless and
distant?
Without addressing the status of their relationship or so
much as an apology, Jake had enrolled at Ohio State
University and moved near the campus in Columbus. After
that, he often skipped church and always avoided her. Then
one fateful evening—the night of the incident—he finally
stopped coming to church altogether.
Even though rumors circulated that he drank and dated a
wild girl with spiked short hair and a miniskirt, Lil
continued to defend her cousin. But Katy deemed Jake Byler
spoiled goods. Lumping him in the forbidden pile along with
dancing, television, and neckties didn’t remove the sting
and sorrow, but it did help her deal with the situation.
She heard the Beverlys’ car purr out of the drive and
glanced out the window at a gray sky that threatened snow.
It distressed her that the Beverlys could love like that and
not know love’s source. Love like the many times since Jake
had dumped her when the Lord had noticed her wet pillow and
sent her comforting lyrics to a hymn so she could sleep.
"While life’s dark maze I tread and griefs around me
spread, be Thou my guide. . . ."
The Beverlys had the nativity set; she’d give them that.
Her hand slid into her white apron pocket and retrieved a
small Christmas card she’d purchased. It had a picture of
the nativity scene on the front and a Bible verse
inside—John 3:16, her Christmas favorite. But was that
enough? She could write something more on the card. Smiling,
she drew a pen from a rose-patterned cup.
Katy used her best handwriting. Your love reminds me of
God’s love. She complimented them on their beautiful
nativity set. It reminds me that Jesus died for our sin so
that we can spend eternity with God in heaven. If that
piqued their curiosity, they might open that dusty Bible.
Surely they pondered eternity at their age, especially as
they flew south toward their retirement nest.
She set the card in plain sight beside her house key.
Then she put the feather duster in a utility closet and
returned to the kitchen with paper towels and a spray bottle.
She spritzed the counter with her special homemade
solution and polished, musing over her sudden job
predicament. What would Lil say if she backed out of their
doddy house plans because she could no longer afford it? She
buffed a small area until it mirrored her clenched lips. She
relaxed her grip. It wouldn’t do to rub a hole in Mrs.
Beverly’s granite countertop right before a Realtor plunked
a sign in her yard. Surely the poor old woman had enough to
worry about.
Katy loosened the pressure of her seat belt with her left
thumb and flicked on her headlights to stare through the
Chevrolet’s windshield at the silent twirling flakes. Since
the news of her job loss earlier in the day, her stomach had
worked itself into to a full boil. She veered off the
country road onto a crackling driveway, where golden light
streamed through the lacy windows of a white two-story.
Megan lived with her parents on the weekends and during
school breaks. Otherwise, she lived on campus at the nearby
Rosedale Bible College. As an only child and a tad spoiled,
she had her own room where the Three Bean Salad could always
meet in perfect privacy.
Katy swept up two identically wrapped gifts, stepped into
the bright gray night, and slammed her car door. With her
face bowed against the wet onslaught, she watched her shoes
cut into freshly laid powder. She climbed the porch steps,
giving her black oxfords a tap against each riser. Before
she could knock, however, the front door opened.
Megan stood in the doorway, her straight blond hair
shimmering down the back of her black sweater, and her blue
eyes brilliant and round as the balls on the Beverlys’
Christmas tree. Katy stepped into her friend’s hug. "Hi,
green bean. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Katy."
After being stirred in the same pot for so many years,
Katy and her two friends resembled Bean Salad more than any
particular bean. Yet of the three girls, Megan’s nickname
stuck, because it suited her style, tall and beautiful and
prone to type term papers on world peace or ecology.
"Look. Lil’s here, too."
Sure enough, Katy recognized the cough of Lil’s old
clunker, a thorn in her friend’s pride and due for a
trade-in as soon as she could afford it.
Katy followed the aroma of gingerbread and ham through
the house to the country-style kitchen. She hugged Megan’s
mom, Anita, and removed her wool coat. "So where’s the blues
man?" It was Bill Weaver’s nickname because he restored
Chevy Novas for a little extra income. But the unusual thing
was that he painted them all his favorite color, midnight
blue. Some Conservatives drove plain cars, and although they
weren’t supposed to idolize their vehicles, his lucrative
hobby fell within what the church permitted. Anita Weaver
started calling him the blues man, and Katy had picked up on
it. Since Bill Weaver was a good sport and loved jokes, she
never felt she was being disrespectful.
"Bill’s at an elders’ meeting at church," Anita explained.
"Oh yeah. I think my dad mentioned that."
"Since Bills’ gone and you girls are spending the evening
together, I thought I’d get a jump on Christmas dinner.
We’re having all the relatives over." She swiped at a wisp
of hair that had escaped her crisp white covering. Anita
Weaver spoiled Katy and Lil like they were her own
daughters. Fun at heart, she was the most lenient of all
their parents, and she didn’t sport dark circles under her
eyes like Lil’s mom.
"Smells good. We’re hosting all our relatives Christmas
Day, too." It was a marvel that Lil, Megan, and Katy were in
no way related, as many from their congregation were in the
small farming community. Their family trees might intersect
in the old country since they shared the same European
Anabaptist roots, but they’d never dug into the matter.
Megan swept into the kitchen with Lil, whose snowy-lashed
eyes sparkled when she spotted the plate of gingerbread men.
Katy bit back a smile, watching her friend pull up her
mental calorie calculator and consider her options.
"Hi, Lil." Katy squeezed her friend. "You can diet tomorrow."
"Nope." She flipped the hood of her coat back, revealing
shiny, nut-colored hair pulled back at the temples and
fastened with a silver barrette beneath her covering. "Not a
day until January."
Megan picked up the plate of temptations and motioned for
them to follow her up to her room. "Not the whole tray," Lil
moaned, shrugging out of her coat, but Katy knew she didn’t
mean a word of it.
"I’ll bring up hot chocolate," Anita Weaver called up the
stairwell after them.
When they’d sprawled across the Dahlia coverlet Megan’s
grand-
mother had quilted, Katy felt the butterflies in her
stomach again. A night purposed for celebration, set aside
for exchanging simple gifts and planning their future in
Miller’s doddy house, now pressed her secret heavily against
her heart.
"Let’s open our gifts," Megan suggested. They shifted and
jostled until they each sat cross-legged with two gifts in
front of them. Lil tore into hers first.
Shedding the dignity due her age—she was the oldest of
the three by a few months, Katy followed suit. Gifts always
stirred up a vestige of childlike excitement that stemmed
back to her first store-bought doll. "It’s gorgeous." She
worked the hinge of the walnut recipe box.
"A cousin made them for me," Lil quipped.
Jake? Katy’s protective instincts reared. She cast Lil an
apprehensive glance, but she was tossing crumpled wrapping
paper across the room, aiming for the trash can. Surely not,
Katy dismissed. Inside was a handwritten recipe for Three
Bean Salad, a twist from the norm with Lil’s special
ingredient. She always tweaked ingredients, especially
intrigued by spices and herbs. Recently graduated from
culinary school, Lil had been working for a month at her
first real job at a small Italian restaurant. This set the
course for the girls to consider renting the Miller’s doddy
house. Emotion balled up in Katy’s throat.
"I’ll keep adding to the recipes," Lil promised.
"Perfect," Megan clapped. "Now open mine."
She had embroidered pillowcases for them with roses and a
Bible verse. Ephesians 4:26 read, "Let not the sun go down
upon your wrath."
Katy smiled. "A good reminder." If any of us ever got
married. She watched them open the gifts she’d made.
"They’re lame," she apologized.
"No they’re not." Megan jumped off the bed and tied the
apron’s strings, sashaying across the pine floor and sliding
her hand in between each row of decorative stitching. "Wow.
Six pockets."
Katy wished she’d done something meaningful or clever.
Always the practical one. This was the third year they’d
exchanged gifts for their hope chests, another reminder of
the vow to be each other’s bridesmaids. At the moment, the
first part of the vow—the moving in together part—worried
her most. She hated to ruin their doddy house dreams. It
couldn’t be helped. Katy swallowed. "I need to tell you both
something."
Lil and Megan turned expectant gazes toward her.
"Did you girls pray for a white Christmas?" Anita Weaver
interrupted, carrying a tray of hot chocolate into the room.
Lil dove into the treat, and the conversation turned to the
snowfall and how special it would make Christmas, drawing
everyone to the window.
Anxious thoughts disquieted Katy’s mind, but she pushed
them aside. Her personal problem was small stuff compared to
the miracle of Christmas. She followed the others to the
window and made a spur-of-the-moment decision that she
wouldn’t ruin the spell of Christmas. The news could wait.
Outside, the flakes swirled like little, white feather
dusters, turning everything sparkling white. Lil pressed her
forehead against the cold windowpane and knocked her prayer
covering askew. "Remember when we used to make snow angels?"
Involuntarily touching her own covering, Katy grinned. "I
remember."
What do you think about this review?
Comments
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!
|
© 2003-2024 off-the-edge.net
all rights reserved Privacy Policy