“Wonderful.” I opened the freezer and was glad to see a bundle in white butcher paper marked stewing meat, which I set in the refrigerator to thaw.
“Place an order today for more,” she said, “but don’t expect it until late afternoon or tomorrow. After that fierce storm last night, the warehouse might be running behind.”
The back door to the kitchen opened, and a deliveryman carted in loaves of wheat and white bread. Sporting a mustache, the fellow was obviously Englisch, in his late fifties. He smiled at me as I moved toward him. “Are you the new manager?”
“Yes, I’m Eva Lapp.”
“I’m Scott McCann. Nice to see a pretty new face here.”
I squirmed inside, hearing those words with Beatrice’s ears. He had yet to acknowledge her. Or maybe he’d met her in the past and found her unwelcoming.
“That was quite a storm last night.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I’m glad we didn’t lose electricity at the bakery.”
“We’ll be fine at the café with our gas stove and generator,” Beatrice said.
The phone rang, making me start. I reached for it before Beatrice could. “Yoder’s Nursery Café.”
Olivia’s sparkling voice came out of the receiver. She must be calling from her phone shanty. “I haven’t cooked, and my bruder wouldn’t be able to deliver the baked goods today anyway. A tree fell across the road. Sorry. I hope you have enough left from yesterday to see you through.”
“Yah, we’ll be fine. Day-old whoopie pies and cookies at a discount. Our refrigerated case is still cold.”
“When you come over someday, I’ll give you baking lessons. Or I’ll come there.”
“That’s kind of you, but as long as you’re willing to bake for us, please continue.”
“But not today. Last night one of my dat’s sheds blew over. He’s out there with a team of horses pulling it upright. I haven’t had time to bake. My mamm said, ‘All things work together for good to them that love God.’ Her answer for everything.”
I’d certainly heard that verse a few times growing up, and I wished it were true. So far, all things were not working for good. Maybe I didn’t love the Lord as I should because my prayers had not been answered.
“Evie, I have some news for you.” Olivia’s voice rose. “If you still care—and I know you do—I heard Jake’s coming back to his parents’ home tomorrow. His dat got kicked in the forehead by a mule last week. He’s been in the trauma unit at the hospital in Lancaster and is in a coma. The doctors don’t know if he’ll ever wake up, but he’s breathing on his own. For how long, they don’t know. He’s lucky to be alive, they said. Neighbors are pitching in to help Jake’s mamm.”
I wondered why Mamm and Beatrice hadn’t mentioned this fact. They had to know. Maybe they didn’t want me to be privy to the information.
“I suggest you don’t stop by to see Jake at his parents’,” Olivia said.
“Oh?” Because Beatrice and Scott were within earshot, I couldn’t inquire further or speak what was on my mind. I also decided not to ask Olivia why she didn’t tell me I was replacing her at this managerial job until I could do so in private. “No time. I’ll be busy all day.” My words came out in a whisper. “Anyone wanting to see me can find out where I am.” But Jake obviously didn’t care, a hideous truth that could make my world stop revolving. “I’ve got to get back to work. Please let me know about tomorrow, Liv. If we don’t have your baked goodies, we might lose all our customers.”
“Nee, you can always bake more.”
“Ach, I don’t think so.” She had more faith in my culinary skills than I did. I’d been shortsighted and naive to figure I’d learn when I got married.
After saying goodbye, I clunked the phone receiver back into its cradle. While I’d been chatting with my cousin, Scott had filled the metal rack with loaves, including whole wheat, white, and rye.
Beatrice brought out a long-handled ladle. “I’ll keep an eye on the soup while you make coffee, Eva.”
“Okay.” I was glad for the help, even if she was bossing me around.
“Goodbye and thanks.” I lifted a hand to Scott as he exited.
“See you tomorrow, Eva.” I listened to the back door shutting and his truck whisk away.
SEVEN
Good morning.” Stephen strode into the café at nine and set several newspapers on one of the front tables. Then he pulled a reader board out onto the walkway with the word Open written across its surface and returned. “How are things going?”
“Fine,” Beatrice answered before I could speak.
“I’m glad you’re here, Bea. Jennifer just called to say she can’t make it because their road is blocked. This was to be her last day anyway.”
Beatrice puckered her face. “These young folks are so unreliable.”
“The roads are a mess.” He sent me a crooked smile. “Sadie called to say she’ll be here as quickly as she can make it on her scooter. She’ll probably be about an hour late.”
A middle-aged Englisch couple trudged in. “We were hoping you’d have coffee,” the tallish woman said as she neared the carafe. “No electricity on our block or maybe for miles.”
I brought out two mugs and then hurried to the refrigerator to fetch the half-and-half, already in a pitcher. The woman seemed to know the drill and served herself coffee, plus another mug full for her husband, who’d already sunk into a chair and opened a newspaper.
The woman pointed at the glass-enclosed case. “How about a couple of those corn muffins and some butter?”
“Certainly, but I must warn you they’re a day old.”
“That’s fine as long as the coffee is fresh.”
“It’s nice and hot.” I scooted around behind the case and placed two muffins on plates, along with pats of
