eyes as if he was shy again. Or maybe he was just embarrassed by how rude my brother was.
I stopped a few feet inside the doorway, right next to Sam. Noah continued by us, walking over to stand beside Jacob. As I scanned the room, I first saw that the dining room and kitchen were combined into a gigantic space with an equally giant-size rectangular wooden table in the center of it. Okay, I’ve seen big tables before, but this one was ridiculous, with long benches on each side of it and chairs on the ends. It would have been the right scale for the giant’s castle in “Jack and the Beanstalk.”
The next thing I noticed was the long beige countertop running down one side of the room, flanked by a refrigerator and a stove on each side. There was a large ceramic sink in the center of the wall, with an open window directly above it. Momma could definitely serve a crowd in this kitchen.
Then I became aware of something really crazy, and I had to swiftly cross the room again with my eyes to verify what I was seeing. All the men and boys were on one side of the room and the women were on the other. My dad was standing with Mr. Miller, and Justin had gone over with the other boys without even thinking. So that left Sam and me standing in the no-man zone.
Just as I thought that, Sam sauntered across the room to join the other masculine beings, leaving me all alone. Luckily, in the blink of an eye, Sarah came over and silently stood next to me.
It must be an Amish thing, I decided. I wondered what everyone was waiting for until Mr. Miller bowed his head and said, “Let us have a moment of silent grace before our meal.”
Everyone in the room followed suit, and so did I, cheating a little bit when I glanced up with my eyes, without raising my head much, to spy on Noah. I quickly put my head back down after seeing he was staring at me with his eyes wide open and his head only partially bowed. I could have sworn, before I looked away, that he had grinned at me. The second of eye contact had caused all those bizarre feelings to stir up inside me again. I made sure to keep my eyes cemented to the floor for the rest of the prayer.
After a long minute, which seemed more like an hour to my grumbling belly, the family started moving about, indicating that prayer time was over. Mrs. Miller had the food laid out on the long counter and there was a glass of water at each place setting. Just as I was rocking on the balls of my feet, ready to head over to fill a plate, Sarah lightly grasped my arm. I gave her a confused look, which she returned with a friendly smile and a slight shake of her head.
Okay, now what was going on? I stopped, glancing around the room again. The men and boys were in line, from the oldest to the youngest, and the women—even the little toddler—were standing back, patiently waiting for the men to get their food first.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
This is like the Dark Ages, I grumbled inwardly, while my stomach growled. My blood began to boil when Sam bowed his blond, bushy head in a quick, silent laugh and winked at me with an evil grin on his face. I could see he and Justin were enjoying this backward thinking immensely. Dad, of course, was just going with the flow. Being an E.R. doctor, he was rarely fazed by anything, and ever since Mom had died, he just enjoyed doing things that kept his mind distracted—which this whole scene was doing perfectly.
Glancing back over at Sarah, I forced a smile.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
She nodded once and then faced forward again. I was envious of how calm she seemed. She wasn’t fidgeting or swaying or anything, just standing straight as a board, waiting as if she had no interest in the food at all. Maybe she had already eaten? I mean, how else could the women put up with this at every meal unless they snacked in the kitchen before the men arrived? I’d have to remember to ask her about it later.
I decided at that moment that Sarah and I were going to be good friends. It was nice of her to warn me before I made a fool of myself. She could have just as easily let me walk up in front of all the men and commit a major faux pas, but she didn’t. She warned me, making her best-friend material for sure in my book.
I breathed in and tried to look as casual as she was. It wasn’t working, though. I couldn’t keep my body from swaying back and forth from toes to heels, and my fingers wouldn’t stay still either. I watched Mrs. Miller, Katie, Rachel and even little Naomi stand like statues, wondering how the heck they were accomplishing it.
Once most of the guys were through the line, Mrs. Miller moved forward with Naomi, and I was allowed to get a dish with the other girls. Noah walked by me but didn’t even look in my direction—as if I didn’t exist. That irked me, but I wasn’t going to let it show.
I was starving by this time and resolved that I wasn’t going to be shy about eating. After a minute of being forced to leisurely stroll to the counter behind the other girls, I finally reached the source of the delightful smells. Wasting no time, I heaped two pork chops, mashed potatoes and creamy corn onto my plate. I also picked up two pieces of the thick, homemade bread and, to top it all off, a slice of cherry pie. Carefully, I turned and made my way to the table, pausing to see where I should sit.
Just as I expected, the men and boys sat on one side of the long table, and the women were seating themselves on the other side. Dad took the chair to the left of Mr. Miller, who sat farther down the table. I ended up taking the chair across from Noah.
Believe it or not, it wasn’t planned; just happened to conveniently work out that way. Or maybe it was a sign from the universe that the two of us were meant to get together. Either way, I was a happy little camper in my spot.
With so many people at the table, you’d think it would have been quite boisterous, but it wasn’t. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware on ceramic and the voices of Mr. Miller and Dad taking about all manner of things. The conversation started with the topic of the remodeling that our house needed. Mr. Miller offered to meet with Dad the following week to go through our lovely falling-apart home to give him an estimate for the work.
It turned out the Miller family had a building business, and I was secretly about to explode with excitement to hear the possibility that Noah might be spending a lot of time at our house this summer. Of course, he’d be working, but at least I’d get to see him, and that was better than nothing.
I tried to make eye contact with him during the meal, but he kept avoiding my gaze. He’d look over my head, out the window, down the table, but not at me. I was starting to wonder if I’d offended him earlier. I mulled that over while I took each delicious bite. The bread was especially yummy, and I was deliberating whether to get up in front of everyone and go for another piece, when I heard my name mentioned.
“Yes, they do keep very busy. Sam plays football, Justin soccer and Rose dances. As a matter of fact, Rose has been accepted to dance in the Cincinnati ballet youth program,” Dad said proudly.
Finally, Noah looked up at me, only for a second, before staring back at the food on his plate. I could have sworn he had a troubled frown on his face at that instant. He seemed to be listening closely to the conversation, though, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork, without bringing any of it to his lips.
“Dancing? How long have you done that, Rose?” Mrs. Miller asked in a slightly weird, clipped way, causing my face to flush with heat before I answered. I instinctually knew that what I was about to say wasn’t going to please her.
“For about seven years now.” I tried to change the subject. “But I also spend a lot of time riding my horse.”
This time Noah’s eyes shot directly at me, but I had picked up on the vibe that I shouldn’t be caught looking at him
