When Strawberries Bloom by Linda Byler

Author:Linda Byler [Byler, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-7589-4
Publisher: Good Books
Published: 2012-07-31T01:15:00+00:00

Chapter 13

LIZZIE STOOD IN FRONT of her open closet doors, flipping through the sleeves of her dresses, trying to decide what color she should choose. None of her dresses fit her mood. She should have made a new one for this evening.

She considered the light aqua blue dress. No. Too pale. Just wore it a week ago. Navy blue. Don’t think so. Too dark for Saturday evening. Burgundy. Deep, dark red. Hate those sleeves. Too short. And on and on, until she was almost through her row of dresses.

“I have nothing to wear!” she wailed out loud, hoping Mandy would hear her and come to her rescue. She didn’t like to admit it, but Mandy’s choices were sometimes better than her own. That, or it boosted Lizzie’s self-confidence to have Mandy say she looked nice in a certain color.

As nervous and edgy as she felt this evening, nothing, not one color, looked right to her.

Mandy’s face appeared at the doorway, laughing. “Red. Deep, dark burgundy would look nice on you tonight with your tanned face.”

She disappeared, swiping furiously at her wet hair with a fluffy blue towel.

Lizzie pulled at the sleeve of her burgundy dress, liking the feel of the soft satiny material, thinking that Mandy was probably right as usual.

She pulled on the dress, gazing at herself in the mirror, nervously biting down on her lower lip. She whistled under her breath as she combed her hair, wondering what the evening would bring. Her heart thudded, almost stopped, then went racing on every single time she thought of Stephen.

As soon as Lizzie and Mandy arrived at Jacob Beilers, Rebecca and Mary Ann raced out of the house, hopped into the buggy, and rode with them into the barn. Laughing and talking, the friends remained in the buggy, catching up on all the latest news, admiring each other’s dresses, and laughing at Rebecca’s antics as she imitated her failure at combing her hair into a bob earlier that evening.

Lizzie laughed along with the rest of them, although her laugh felt a bit forced and strained as she kept glancing furtively over her shoulder, wondering where Stephen was at that moment. Maybe he hadn’t even come home this week, she thought. She didn’t have the nerve to ask Rebecca, although her curiosity almost overwhelmed her common sense. Better to be quiet, she knew.

“And then,” Mary Ann concluded, “she told me I have to chop my onions even more! Can you imagine? The tears were already running down my face!”

“Oh, I envy you! I wish my mom would let me work in the kitchen of a restaurant!” Lizzie burst out.

“It’s okay. I enjoy it. But it’s harder work than you think, Lizzie.”

Lizzie smiled back at Mary Ann, thinking how fortunate she was to work in a restaurant. Mam was so strict. She always told them a restaurant was no place for her girls—too many men, too many temptations, which Lizzie thought was just ridiculous. What was the difference? She had dealt with temptation in the egg-grading room when that English truck driver, Don Albert, had flirted with her.

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