Mattie wrapped her lips around the straw. “Danki.”
For the first time, the brown-haired boy’s smile was genuine. He liked the Pennsylvania Dutch. Almost as much as he liked the way she was sucking on that straw. “What’s your name, anyway?” he asked.
“Mattie. What’s yours?”
“Hunter.” He motioned to his friend. “This is Patrick.”
Patrick leaned forward. “No offense, but what’s up with the old lady getup? You know, the granny dresses? You two are pretty hot-looking and that shit you’re wearing isn’t exactly sexy.”
The girls giggled.
Cruelty glinted within his smile, telling me he was out to impress his friends and that was going to happen at Mattie’s and my expense.
“Ask her if they shave their legs,” one of the girls blurted out.
“Better yet, why don’t you show us your legs?” Patrick said.
The girl wearing the blue jeans cackled. “I bet their legs are hairier than yours, Hunter!”
Hunter shook his head. “As you can see, my friends have no manners.” He spread his hands, trying for innocuous. “But we’d really like to know. Do you ladies shave your legs?”
To my utter shock, Mattie swiveled from her chair, hiked up her dress and exposed a slender, beautiful, shaved leg.
The other girl slapped her hand over her mouth and hooted around red-tipped fingers.
“Wow.” But Hunter couldn’t take his eyes off that long stretch of milky flesh. “I’ll never think of an Amish woman in the same light ever again.”
A moment of silence ensued as the teens took a good, long look. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the blue-jean-clad girl staring, her eyes alight with jealousy.
“What about your armpits?” she blurted.
“Do you trim up those Amish snatches of yours?” Patrick asked.
“Oh my Gawd!” one of the girls chirped.
I nudged Mattie with my foot, letting her know I’d had enough and wanted to leave. When her eyes flicked to mine, I was surprised to see that she wasn’t the least bit upset by any of this. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. I didn’t understand how she could remain so cool while I was embarrassed and humiliated. Worse, I was angry because they’d ruined my big afternoon out with my best friend.
“You girls want to go smoke a joint?” asked Hunter. “We promise not to bite.”
“I hear the Amish have the best shit,” one of the girls added.
I stood abruptly, my shake forgotten. All four sets of eyes burned into me, their expressions alight with the anticipation of fireworks. The blue-jean-clad girl looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my feet. “Oh my God, look at her shoes!”
“That takes practical to a whole new level,” muttered the girl sitting next to her.
“That takes ugly to a whole new level,” she amended.
“I’m leaving,” I said to Mattie in Pennsylvania Dutch.
Taking her time, Mattie picked up her shake and scooted away from the table. “Don’t forget your ice cream,” she said, picking up my glass.
Ignoring her, I started toward the door without looking back. My face was burning, my heart pounding. I’d been taught to be forgiving, and that included forgiving people for ignorance and cruelty. But I was a teenager; I hadn’t yet learned to curb my emotions. I wanted to put these cruel Englischers in their place. I wasn’t proud of the fact that I didn’t have the guts.
Before I could make my escape, one of the boys stuck out his leg and lifted the hem of my dress with the toe of his sneaker. My hand whipped out, brushed my dress back down. I didn’t look at him. Didn’t stop walking. I didn’t voice the words running through my head.
“D’you see those fuckin’ bloomers!” he screeched. “My granny wears those! Holy shit!”
Laughter exploded from the table. Praying I’d find Mattie right behind me, I glanced back to see that she’d paused next to the boy who’d lifted my dress. All I could think was: Oh, Mattie what are you going to do? I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when she raised both of our cups and dumped the shakes onto his lap.
CHAPTER 17
It’s 2:00 A.M. when I leave Tomasetti’s farm. I didn’t want to go. Tonight was probably the closest thing to a perfect evening I’d ever had in my life. Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe I’ve arrived at this place. That two people as damaged as us have been granted this small slice of happiness by the same God who took so much from us in the past. When we’re together, yesterday doesn’t matter. The future is without limit and ours for the taking. I don’t have to play the tired role in which I’d been cast. The one with the hackneyed script and rehashed lines. My new role is fresh, and I like the character I’ve become.