He shook his head. “Nee. There’s no need to be in a hurry. I’d rather we just do it all together.”
She felt her mood lighten. It was nice that he wanted to spend time with her.
But as they pushed the cart down the aisles Seth seemed to pay more attention to the list than to her. He would often reach for an item before she had a chance to do so herself. Whenever she did place an item in the basket, he’d scrutinize it and then mark it off the list. A couple of times she reached for the wrong item and before she could correct herself, he gently corrected her himself.
By the time they’d finished shopping she was convinced he’d only maneuvered events to shop with her today because he didn’t trust her to get everything they’d need to feed the attendees on Sunday.
He, however, seemed to be in a gut mood. Once he’d loaded everything in the buggy, he climbed in and took the reins. “I think we should stop for burgers again today.”
“That sounds gut.”
“And don’t worry, today I’ll let you know everything that’s on the menu so you can make a proper selection.”
That was kind of him, but the tone of voice he used tightened a knot in her chest. It was very close to the pat-the-kinner-on-the-head tone her mamm often used. Surely she was being too sensitive.
Once they arrived at King’s, Seth began reading the menu to her, just as he’d said he would. But he spoke with such slow, heavy-handed deliberation that she quickly picked something just to put an end to it. She turned and headed for an empty table, leaving Seth to deal with waiting for the order.
Their conversation during lunch was over inconsequential things such as the food, the weather and the remaining tasks ahead of them to get everything ready for Sunday.
She could tell Seth was still feeling upbeat, but though she tried to hide it, her own mood had sobered.
Be patient, she told herself, you just need to let him see how capable you are. This shortcoming of mine takes some getting used to.
But the disappointment that he still didn’t trust her to know her own abilities and limits stung more than she wanted to admit.
Chapter 30
As they headed back toward home Seth felt gut about how the morning had gone. He’d managed to join her for the grocery shopping in a natural way that didn’t require him to go into any explanations or excuses. He’d assisted in the shopping itself so she didn’t have to rely entirely on her memory. Which was gut because she’d reached for the wrong item a couple of times. And he’d given her options at King’s she hadn’t had the first time they’d gone there.
He could sense a little tension in her but it was no doubt due to the stress of doing the shopping for a luncheon that included around 130 people. He was determined to make that event as worry-free as possible for her as well. One way he could do that would be to offer to make a list for her of everything that needed to be done to feed such a group. Edna could help her stay on track and give her confidence that nothing would get overlooked.
He thought lately that he’d seen signs that she was beginning to appreciate having some structure. And she’d picked up on that when they discussed Dinah earlier. This would just be one additional safety net for her.
All in all, things were going quite well.
Once she arrived back at the Beiler place, Phoebe’s emotions ping-ponged back and forth. On the one hand she was exceedingly pleased that Seth had felt comfortable enough to share his personal history with her. So much of it had been heartbreaking, all the more so because of the matter-of-fact way he’d delivered it.
On the other hand, she couldn’t shake the hurt and frustration when she thought of how he’d treated her like someone incapable of getting the shopping done on her own and who needed to be given her menu choices in a slow, patronizing manner.
So when Jesse approached her later that afternoon she wasn’t only happy to have him initiate a conversation, but also happy to have something else to focus on.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course.” She turned and leaned back against the counter, giving him her undivided attention.
“I talked to teacher Constance today.”
“And was this conversation about something in particular?”
“Jah. You.”
Phoebe froze, not sure she was going to like the rest of this conversation. Had Jesse talked to his teacher about her inability to read? Of course he had—why else would the subject have come up? “What about me?”
The boy rubbed one of his upper arms nervously. “Not about you exactly because I didn’t use your name, so you don’t have to worry about that. I just told her I knew someone who was really smart and clever but who had trouble reading and writing.”
Phoebe did her best to keep the smile pasted on her face, but she knew Constance had probably figured out who the boy was talking about. After all, she was the only new person who had entered the boy’s life in the last few weeks. This was unwelcome news, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset with the boy.
But Jesse was still talking. “Teacher Constance is really kind and wonderful smart and I know you are, too, even if you can’t read. So I asked her how that could be.” He scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. “I thought maybe she could help. ’Cause you do so much for others I wanted to do something for you.”
Phoebe was touched by the sincerity of his efforts and intention, even if she was uncomfortable with his approach. “That was very thoughtful of you. But as my mamm always says, we must be thankful for both the talents and the challenges Gotte has given us and not look with envy on what He gave to others.”
Jesse met her gaze head-on. “But what if He gave us challenges so that we can overcome them?”
His question surprised her in both its simplicity and its depth. Not knowing how to respond, she went back to the original topic. “And did your teacher have any insights?”
Jesse nodded enthusiastically. “She says you might have something called dyslexia. It means your brain processes words and letters differently than other people’s brains do. And it has nothing to do with how smart you are.” His eyes were bright with his enthusiasm for the information he was relaying. “She’s been doing a lot of reading about it because she has a cousin who is in the same situation.”
Phoebe’s pulse jumped at that. “And has she been able to help him?”
Some of Jesse’s enthusiasm dimmed. “Teacher said that there’s no real cure, but there are ways to help the scholar learn in different ways from the other students.”
The little flicker of hope that had ignited momentarily fizzled out. What gut did it do to put a name to her problem if there was no cure?
But Jesse had meant well so she offered him a smile. “I appreciate you looking into this on my behalf,” she told him. “Now I know what it is that makes me this way.”
“But there’s something else. She said it was important to know that having dyslexia has nothing to do with how smart you are. She said there have been some very intelligent and very clever people through history who had the same issue—inventors, scientists, artists, doctors. It’s not any different from being very tall or very short. It might make you different, but it doesn’t make you slow-witted.”
