Best Friend's Ex Box Set

I filled out the paperwork, showed my identifi

cation, and then paid for two nights before following Mrs. Yoder into the sitting room where she informed me that tea would be served at eleven in the morning and four in the afternoon, if I was so inclined. She moved on to the dining room where she said that breakfast and dinner would be served each day.

"Breakfast is at seven sharp and supper at six," she said cheerfully tapping the large oak table. "We're very prompt, Mr. Wallace. And if you want to eat, you'd be wise to follow suit!"

I nodded as she moved out of the dining room and began to climb up the wide staircase that led the second floor. I marveled at the polished wood stairs and gleaming banister. Someone had taken a great deal of care of the interior of this house, and it showed.

On the wall to my left hung an assortment of large quilts with designs that looked plain, but were probably much more complex than my untrained eye could discern. Mrs. Yoder gave a brief history of each one as she quickly climbed the stairs and as we reached the top step, she turned and said, "Have you ever slept beneath a homemade quilt, Mr. Wallace?"

"I can't say that I have, ma'am," I said shaking my head.

"Well, tonight we'll change that," she said nodding her head as she walked down the long hallway and stopped in front of a door at the end. She pushed the door open and walked into a room that looked like it had been pulled from another era.

The walls were painted mint green and the wood floors were a dark brown. There was a double bed, a nightstand, and a dresser all made of the same, dark wood on the floor. It felt like I was in a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I looked around for the closet, but the room didn't seem to have one.

"We hang our clothes on pegs," Mrs. Yoder said obviously having heard this question before. She pointed to a spot in the corner where there were two sets of pegboards hung high enough that even the longest clothing wouldn't touch the floor. I nodded as she continued, "The bathroom is the second door on the right. You'd normally share it with the other guests, but we're not expecting anyone else until next week so you'll have it all to yourself!"

"Great," I said, scanning the room for electrical outlets.

"If you need to plug in your electronics," she said cheerfully. "You can bring them down to the front desk and use the power strip there. The house is wired, but we didn't put in outlets in the individual rooms because it didn't seem necessary at the time. I guess we were wrong!"

I was silently cursing Bugsy as I realized that no electrical outlets meant there probably wasn't a Wi-Fi connection in the house either, but before I could ask, Mrs. Yoder spoke up.

"We do have Wi-Fi, though!" she chirped. "The password is AbidebyGodswill.”

"Good to know," I said flashing her a faint smile to show my appreciation. "It seems I missed supper tonight? Is there somewhere around here I can get something to eat?"

"Oh, of course, Mr. Wallace!" she said excitedly. "Lottie's Diner is just a block down the street and she serves breakfast, lunch and dinner. But she closes down at seven to get home and do her chores."

"So I'm out of luck tonight?" I asked feeling annoyed by the small town approach to business. In Chicago, if I wanted a sandwich or an omelet or a five-course meal, I could get it whenever I wanted. In fact, I could pull up an app that would let me order from just about any restaurant in the city and have my meal delivered within thirty minutes. I doubted there was a company down here that could do that.

"You could head down to Miller's Grocery," she suggested. "They stay open until nine, and they often have hot food that you can take out. If you need a lunch to take with you while you're here, I'll be happy to pack one for you if you let me know ahead of time."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," I said feeling anxious and wanting to get out of the room and away from the smiling Amish woman. "I'm going to go find some dinner and then I'll be back. Do I need a key in the evening?"

"Oh goodness, no!" Mrs. Yoder laughed. "We leave the door unlocked until midnight and then Gabe watches the desk until morning."

Mrs. Yoder firmly closed the door after we'd exited and then led me back down the wide staircase to the foyer. I thanked her for the hospitality and said I'd be back later with my bags. She smiled and waved as I walked out the front door. Once on the porch, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I was only going to be here for a few days.

Chapter Nine

Grace

It had been more than a week since we'd broken the news to Danny and then buried Mamm and Dat, and while I'd tried to keep things running smoothly, I'd struggled to shoulder all the burdens I'd assumed. The funeral had been simple and hundreds of Amish folks, some from as far away as Lancaster, had come to help us bury our parents.

Hope and Faith had taken on the responsibility of coordinating the food we'd needed for all the travelers while Verity and Honor had kept the house running smoothly and kept an eye on Danny. As the newly appointed head of the family, I oversaw the funeral arrangements, the house, the farm, and the store. It was overwhelming, and there were moments when I thought I would crack under the pressure to maintain a calm presence. By the time the last mourner had shaken my hand, telling me this was God's will, I wanted to scream. Instead, I kept it in and nodded my head as I thanked them for coming.

I was torn between wanting to return to my city life and all its little luxuries that I missed so much, and wanting to be here with my sisters and brother as we tried to make sense of this loss. With every day that passed, I felt more and more trapped by the Amish way of life and scared that I'd never find a way to leave. Honor and Danny were still too young to live on their own, and Verity would be getting married in the fall. I wondered if she and her betrothed, Levi Yoder, might be willing to take over running the house and the farm. I knew Levi had a lot of responsibility because his father had left the Amish when Levi was young.

At home, my brain spun on the hamster wheel of thought, so tonight, I welcomed the chance to be alone with my thoughts. I ached to return to the life I had been living in Chicago, but the store would be turned over to Uncle Amos, and I was fairly sure that would have gone directly against my father's wishes. Besides, the store kept the farm running, so I resolved to find someone who could run the store in my absence. I'd checked my phone a couple of times since I arrived, and aside from an email from Mike telling me that everything was going smoothly back at the office and not to worry, not much was happening.

Around seven thirty, I sent John, the stock boy, home counted the money in the register and stuck a slip inside so that I wouldn't have to waste time doing it again once I locked the doors. With less than a half an hour before closing time, I turned my attention to straightening the displays at the end of each aisle. A few minutes later, I heard the mechanical door slide open and then close. I turned to see who had come in. Usually it was Amish teenagers out looking for a late night snack to take out to the fields where they partied until dawn. I was surprised to see a stranger standing off to one side, looking around as if he'd never seen a grocery store before. Most English tourists did the same thing this stranger was doing since they expected all our stores to look as if we lived in the eighteenth century. Their assumptions annoyed me, but Papa had consistently reminded me that it was our job to build a bridge between our community and the English.

"May I help you, sir?" I asked as I put the boxes of butterscotch pudding I'd been stacking down and walked toward him.

"Man, you all are really in a time warp, aren't you?" he said in a tone that sounded vaguely condescending.

"We're a small town grocery store, if that's what you mean," I said as I stared at him. He was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and sharp features, but what stood out was his wild mop of curly hair and his amber eyes. He shifted restlessly as he looked around, reminding me of one of our feral barn cats. Annoyed, I added, “We might have a smaller selection of goods, but they seem to satisfy the people who shop here.”