Seasons of Sugarcreek 02. Spring's Renewal by Shelley Shepard Gray Page A

as Lilly walked into the kitchen. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you. Things just haven’t been the same since you’ve been gone.”
    “Really?”
    “Oh, for sure,” Miriam said. “It’s been terribly quiet with nobody chirping about this and that.”
    “And here I thought you all were probably appreciating my absence.”
    “Never that,” Gretta said, rushing to her side to give her a hug. “We’ve been so sad for your loss and have been terribly worried, too.”
    The lump that now seemed lodged in her throat seemed to grow to the size of a goose egg. “Thank you.”
    Still holding her close, Gretta said, “Are you all right?”
    “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “But I do know that it was time for me to leave the house and come here. I couldn’t sit in bed and be sad any longer.”
    “Well, of course you couldn’t,” Miriam said as she gave Lilly a quick hug as well. “Being busy might not cure problems, but it helps one forget about things for a time, I think. And that is a mighty gut thing.”
    “Lilly? Are you ready, dear? The dining room is filling up,” Mrs. Kent called out.
    Hastily grabbing an apron, Lilly waved to the two other girls. “I’m ready,” she called out and rushed to the tables in her station. As a pair of women greeted her and placed their orders, Lilly realized that in this instance, work was indeed the best medicine.
     
     
    “I thought you quit,” a man said two hours later as she came up to take his order. Lilly stopped short. It was the sullen Amish man from before, sitting at the same table.
    “I didn’t,” she said shortly, unafraid to match his tone. Her shift was almost over. And, though she hoped no one would have the slightest idea of how emotionally drained she was, Lilly knew she was almost at her breaking point. Her body was tired after being on her feet for four long hours. Her arms and shoulders and back were moaning about the unaccustomed strength needed to lift trays and carry them to the kitchen. The unspoken questions and whispered comments about her miscarriage hadn’t floated over her, either. No, she was very aware of the talk she’d created.
    But she’d done her best to smile in the face of it.
    When the man still looked her over, she pointed to his menu. “Did you come here to eat or just stare at me?”
    He blinked. Then scowled.
    Lilly saw a firing in her future. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I’m tired and I guess I’ve just about met the end of my rope.”
    “Maybe you should rest.”
    “I will. My shift is almost up.” She pulled out a pencil and did her best to look competent and professional. “Now, sir, what will you have?”
    “It’s Robert.”
    For the life of her, she couldn’t follow his statement. “Pardon me?”
    His lips tilted a tiny bit. Enough to change the expression on his face. It didn’t transform it, but it certainly did create an impression of handsomeness. “I meant, Lilly, that my name is Robert.”
    “Oh. Well, you know I’m Lilly.”
    To her surprise, he smiled. Not just a miserly smile, but a full-out grin. With teeth. And with that smile, her suspicion of handsomeness flew out the window. Now he was flat-out gorgeous.
    Both his looks—and her reaction to them—were startling.
    Perversely, he seemed to grow more at ease the more she became skittish. “I know what I’ll have now.”
    “Yes?”
    “A slice of peanut butter pie. And a cup of coffee, too.”
    “Pie. Coffee.”
    Blue eyes warmed. “ Jah . Lilly, I am glad you’re back.”
    Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined him being so forward. Snapping his menu closed, she nodded. “I’ll bring it right out.”
    “ Danke .”
    Robert said nothing more to her when she brought his order. He simple nodded his thanks, ate about half the pie and sipped half the coffee, then left a tip and paid Mrs. Kent on his way out.
    Later, when she drove home, she thought about him again, in spite of her best attempts not