Free Adoring Addie by Leslie Gould Page B

kitchen, I darted back outside and behind the group of girls from our district, heading toward the shed.
    When I reached Jonathan, I couldn’t think of anything to say except, “Can I help you with something?”
    He removed his hat. “I’m looking for someone,” he said.
    â€œOh?”
    â€œA girl.”
    Ach, he’d come to the barbecue hoping to see Hannah. He’d been enamored with her the weekend before at the party. He didn’t know her parents had forbidden her from seeing him. It all made sense now. I decided to play dumb. “Oh?”
    â€œJah, I have something I wanted to give her.”
    With a tease in my voice, I asked, “So, it’s a certain girl you’re after?”
    He nodded.
    My voice serious now, I said, “She’s not here.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI’m her cousin.”
    â€œAhh,” he said.
    I was having fun. Hannah had been right. Jonathan Mosier did seem like a bit of a sap. “She may be here later, if you want to stick around.”
    â€œDenki,” he said. “I think I might.” He put his hat back on then and grinned at me. Sap or not, I found him handsome.
    I waved and then walked back behind the group of people gathered around the elm tree so Phillip wouldn’t see me, circled all the way behind the barbecue back by the half barrels overflowing with red geraniums and blue lobelia, and dashed into the kitchen through the back door.
    I found myself thinking about Jonathan as I scraped the plates into the slop bucket, wondering what he’d brought for Hannah. It had to be something small. Not one of his carvings. Not even a book or a card. Something that fit in his pocket. We didn’t wear jewelry, so it couldn’t be a ring or a bracelet.
    Phillip had never brought me a single thing in all the times he’d come to call. Not even a flower.
    Why hadn’t I asked Jonathan what he’d brought for Hannah? I mulled over the possibility of speaking with him again as I stacked the plates, while Cate took out another tray of cookies. Maybe Hannah was right about Jonathan being a dolt, but he’d come looking for her, carrying a gift.
    Maybe he wasn’t a pushover. Maybe he was sweet. And caring. He certainly seemed kind, even in the way he’d chattedwith Aenti Nell. Maybe Hannah would change her mind once she realized his goodness.
    I ran the hot water and squeezed in the soap. When bubbles formed, I submerged the plates and began scrubbing. By the time Cate returned, followed by Betsy and Nan, dishes filled the rack. Betsy lowered herself onto a kitchen chair, propping her feet on another one, as Nan and Cate began drying.
    â€œI wish the Bobli was here already,” Betsy said.
    â€œJah,” Nan said. “So I could hold it.” She pushed back a strand of fine blond hair and grinned.
    Cate whispered to me, “She’s going to make a good Mammi , jah?”
    I nodded but didn’t say anything out loud, not wanting Nan to hear me. I would have liked to know what my Onkel Bob’s intentions were as far as marrying Nan and making her a grandmother, but of course I wasn’t going to ask. For years Nan and Cate had been friends due to my cousin’s devotion to the local bookmobile. Then a year ago last spring, Nan and Onkel Bob had met. They seemed smitten with each other, even though she was Mennonite.
    I wiped at the sweat gathering on my forehead with my wrist and then dropped my hand back into the dishwater.
    Nan edged in beside me. “Go on outside,” she said. “Let us clean up.”
    â€œAch, no. You should be out visiting.”
    Betsy laughed from the table. “We’re old married ladies.” She was all of eighteen, almost nineteen. “You should be out there with the young men. With Phillip, jah?”
    â€œNan’s not an old married lady,” I said. “Maybe she’d like to be outside with Onkel