The Divine Secrets of the Whoopie Pie Sisters: The Complete Trilogy Read online

  “Excuse me, Miss,” a woman called out, waving her hand, which held a small piece of paper in the air. “I think you just called number fifty? That’s me! Hello, Miss?”

  Leah took a deep breath and turned around, forcing the forty-ninth smile of the day onto her face. Her first smile of the morning was always easy and never forced: it went to their first customer, Jenny Yoder. She was the older mother of the Yoder clan who lived down the lane and came almost every day to get ten whoopie pies. What she did with those pies Leah never asked. But any woman who raised eleven children, all of them having happily joined the church after eleven low-key and uneventful rumschpringes, was bound to get a genuine smile from every member of the g’may[2].

  “Miss, I’d like a dozen of those whoopie pies,” the woman demanded, her high-pitched voice tinted with a definite New York accent, cutting Leah back to reality. She let the piece of paper flutter from her hand and, for just a moment, Leah watched as it floated through the air and landed on the floor, just beside her, on the other side of the counter.

  “Ja,” Leah said, lifting her eyes to meet the tired baby blues that stared back at her from behind small red bifocals. “A dozen of those will be no problem.” Quickly, she took a white box from behind the counter and began to carefully place the whoopie pies into the box, silently counting to make certain she had exactly twelve in the box. Once it was folded and the money collected, Leah slid the box across the counter and said her standard good-bye: “You will enjoy these. They were freshly made this morning.”

  Luckily, the weather had been tolerable in Holmes County over the last couple of days. A cold front was moving through the area and had cooled the temperatures by 10 degrees or so. It was a welcomed relief for the five Miller children who worked at Whoopie Pie Place. On hot and humid days, the bakery could become quite unbearable, reaching over 95 degrees inside the store and even more in the back kitchen baking area. Without electricity or air conditioning, it was enough to cause even the kindest of souls to snap.

  Today, however, that wasn’t the case.

  Indeed, the end of summer had brought along some cool mornings and afternoons. Yet, even though the heat was at a minimum, sister Lydia had been feeling rather flustered lately. In fact, she was often huffing and puffing under her breath, quick to snap at her sisters, her rudeness taxing everyone’s nerves. Even as Leah was helping the customers, she could hear the tension building up in the back kitchen where Susie and Lydia were working. It was all that she could do to keep herself from bursting through the swinging doors as the confrontation began to escalate!

  Unfortunately, that was not an option. With so many people in the store, she had to focus on the customers, first and foremost. Laverne always brought her guided tours to Whoopie Pie Place and Leah was not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Tours meant tourists and that translated to customers. Customers were vital to their thriving business.

  “Fifty-one?” she called out, a forced smile on her face as she waited for the next customer in line to step forward.

  Back in the kitchen, the heart of the store, two Amish women were busy kneading bread and making whoopie pies. The room was a disaster, the counters filled with countless whoopie pie pans, some filled and waiting to be baked, others sitting on the cooling racks by the open window. The hardwood floor, faded and in good need of being refinished, was covered in patches of flour and crumbs that had been pushed off the counter during the course of the day. Luckily, there was a ceiling fan overhead and it spun rapidly, keeping a nice breeze flowing through the otherwise stiflingly hot room.

  "Lydia,” Susie asked, reaching out a hand covered in flour and chocolate, and wiggling her fingers in the air. “Might you hand me that bowl of cream so I can finish the rest of these pies?"

  There was a moment’s hesitation before the younger of the two sisters responded. Her voice was strained and sharp. "Why, I'm just as busy as you are, Susie!" Lydia sassed. None too happily, she handed the bowl to her sister.

  Susie looked up, a scowl on her face as she stared at her younger sister with glowering dark brown eyes. "No need to be so sassy, then! I only asked for a small favor!” Susie snapped back. She had never been one to keep her mouth shut, not once. Especially from her sister.

  Lydia rolled her own brown eyes. “It’s always a small favor with you, ain’t so?”

  “Apparently you need to go back to bed and start the day over again,” Susie answered none too happy. “Get up on the right side, I reckon! If you have one!”

  Lydia whirled around, her face creased with anger and eyes bulging from her head. A stray hair had slipped from beneath her prayer kapp and, for a moment, she looked like a mad woman. “I need to go back to bed?” she snapped, emphasizing the word “I”. Pressing her lips tight, she glared at her sister. “I need to go back to bed?” she repeated yet again, this time with an exaggerated emphasis on the words. “Well, my dear sister, mayhaps you need to think about someone other than yourself. You forget that I have just as much work as you do!”

  A stern look crossed Susie’s face as she replied, “How do you have as much as me? You try working here all day then going home to three children and a husband to take care of. It’s not as easy a burden as yours!”

  At that comment, the color flushed from Lydia’s face. How dare her sister bring up the fact that she had no children! Susie seemed to recognize her mistake and immediately wiped her hands on the black apron that was wrapped around her soiled green dress. She started to walk toward her sister but Lydia stopped her, pushing away her outstretched hands.

  “I didn’t mean that, Lydia,” Susie started to apologize, compassion in her eyes. It was clear that she hadn’t meant to hurt her sister’s feelings. However, it was also clear that it was far too late for that. The damage was done.

  “Nee,” Lydia said, the tears starting to fill her eyes. Her lips trembled and she swiped at her eyes. “You did and that was right hurtful. I need to step outside for a spell. You can just finish up in here by yourself!” And with that, Lydia spun on her heels and darted out the back door.

  “Lydia!” Susie called after her but, by the time she got to the doorway, Lydia was gone out of sight and, Susie suspected, would not be returning anytime soon. With a scowl on her face, Susie turned back to the kitchen, instantly aware that she was on her own for the rest of the day. Again, she wouldn’t be getting home in time to clean the house before preparing supper for her family.

  With a sigh, Susie returned to the counter and lifted the spatula off the bowl to spread the cream between the layers of whoopie pie cakes. Despite Lydia’s hurt feelings and disappearance, someone had to keep supplying the store with the freshly baked goods. As usual, that responsibility fell upon Susie’s shoulders. It was a responsibility that she did not take lightly for she knew that the reputation of Whoopie Pie Place depended on delivering the promise of quality-baked goods, served with a smile.

  Leah

  “I’ll take three of those Chocolate-Strawberry things right there, two of those glazed ones over here and one of those chocolate covered things in that corner.” The woman spoke her order as she pointed to the different baked goods in the display case. “No wait, I need to change that.” Another hesitation. “Oh shoot, I just can’t make up my mind. They all look so delicious, don’t they?” The woman laughed, the noise sounding like a scratchy cackle.

  Despite not being amused, Leah put on an understanding smile as she waited patiently for the woman’s order.

  “Let’s change it to…” The woman seemed to hesitate, a finger in her mouth as she looked around. “No, just leave it at what I said before… I think.”

  On the outside, Leah’s face was as pleasantly solemn as she could possibly make it appear, but on the inside, her thoughts toward the lady’s indecisiveness weren’t quite so pretty.

  Throughout the day, the crowd continued to filter in and out of Whoopie Pie Place. At times, there was barely enough standing room for the customers. Customers would wai
t patiently on the porch, right outside the entrance door, sipping the cool meadow tea that sister Sadie sold them for a dollar a cup. No one ever hesitated to purchase a drink and many came back for seconds. Leah always wondered whether it was Sadie’s refreshing meadow tea or her own big, genuine smile and sparkling blue eyes that appealed more to the customers and made the sales.

  Unlike her two sisters who continually argued from the kitchen, sister Sadie had a gentle aura of peace about her. For a long moment, Leah stood in the doorway, watching as the last of Laverne’s tour guests bought their final cup of meadow tea. Ja, Leah thought, Sadie certainly had a right gut way about her with the Englische.

  Everyone indeed liked Sadie. She was fun and lively, with sparkling blue eyes and a way of lighting up the room whenever she walked into it. Despite being only 20 years of age, while she carried herself with an unassuming presence, she never failed to be noticed by Englische and Amish alike. There was no pride in her character but there sure was an awful lot of giving. Sadie made the other two sisters look like naughty twins with quick tongues and fire in their eyes. No, Sadie was definitely different.

  Whenever there was a sick member of the g’may, it was Sadie who immediately spent her evenings visiting with them at their homes. She’d wake up extra early to bake bread or muffins to bring to those people right after she was finished with work. Leah suspected that she was often bone weary, but not once did Sadie ever complain. Always, she smiled; and always, she did what had to be done without being asked and, more often than not, without asking for help.

  “You have a fresh batch ready for the 2pm tour bus, then?” Leah asked as she walked out the door onto the porch.

  Sadie looked up at her oldest sister, the sister who had practically raised her while their mamm, Miriam, was starting the business five years prior. Now, with their parents deceased, Leah had taken over the role of the family matriarch. “I sure do,” Sadie replied. “Even have my batch ready for the 3:30 tour!”

  As if I had to ask, Leah thought to herself with a feeling of pride toward her youngest sister. “Wunderbaar!”

  Returning to the inside of the store, Leah looked around. She wandered the aisles, straightening up the rows of whoopie pies and other little knick-knacks that were sold in the store: jams, jellies, apple and pumpkin butter, potholders and little wooden toys. Once everything was in order and rearranged to her satisfaction, she ventured into the kitchen, catching her breath before she did so, as she never knew what awaited her on the other side of those two swinging doors.

  “What was all that ruckus about earlier?” she asked as she saw Susie working on a new batch of whoopie pies. Most days, Susie left around two o’clock to get home in time to tend to her own kinner and home. As of late, she had been staying later and later, just one more thing that caused Leah some worry.

  Susie shook her head. “That Lydia,” she started. “Ran off in tears again.”

  Ran off? Again? Leah sighed, leaning against the counter, careful to not get any loose flour on the black apron that covered her magenta dress. She hated when her dress looked soiled as she greeted the customers. “What did you do this time, Susie?”

  “What didn’t I do?” Susie clenched her fists and put them on her hips. “No matter what I say, it comes back to her and then she runs off,” she replied, a look of frustration in her eyes. “And I know what this means. Once again, I’m here working alone and we both know what that does for my own duties at home.”

  A small figure appeared in the doorway. From the corner of her eye, Leah could see her youngest brother, Tobias, as he quietly snuck in and slid a full basket of strawberries on the floor, toward the counter. Without a word, he started to disappear. Leah turned around, watching him as he slowly walked away. This wasn’t usual for Tobias. Normally, he would burst into the kitchen, dropping off the strawberries before sneaking over to the counter and helping himself to whatever sweet treat he desired.

  Walking toward the door, Leah leaned against the frame and watched as Tobias headed toward the main house. His hands were in his pockets and his head was hung low. From the way that his straw hat was tipped back on his head, Leah knew exactly what was wrong with her brother: He wasn’t feeling well again.

  “Oh help!” she whispered.

  Everyone had their problems, their own little world of concern that usually centered on themselves: Susie with her balancing act between home and Whoopie Pie Place, Lydia with her desire to have a boppli[3] and tend to her home instead of helping her sisters, and Tobias with an illness that kept him from enjoying life the way other fourteen year old boys did. As usual, it was up to Leah to hold them all together.

  Although exhausted by the end of the day, there was never a moment when Leah didn’t feel blessed to have inherited their mother’s love for baking. Their mother had been the epitome of happiness; a smile always adorning her face. While she had been a wonderful cook, it had been her baking that excelled above all the rest. She could make a shredded apple pie that would tantalize anyone’s taste buds before it ever hit their mouth. For as long as Leah could remember, in their father’s lunch and theirs, their mother would always place one of her whoopie pies. At no other time did they have these delicious treats. Where their mother had hidden them out of their reach for all those years was never known to this day. But, during those lunches at school, they could count on one being there.

  On the opening day of Whoopie Pie Place, just a little over five years ago, excitement was everywhere. Their mother Miriam had been the first to walk through the door. Although she was taught not to show pride, it had been very hard not to. She was venturing out into a world where she could do the one thing she sometimes admitted to herself that she loved even more than caring for the family: baking. All Amish girls were trained early that all joys in life lay in the happiness of their family; an immaculate home, clean clothing, beautiful flowers in their trimmed yards, well-behaved children and the respect of their husbands and community were what pleased them. A simple desire of life but yet a fulfilling challenge; a life’s purpose. Miriam had taught her girls this very task. Little did she know that this way of life was not something that each one of her daughters wanted to learn, let alone abide by!

  Leah had recognized that conflict within her two married sisters and she knew that they both struggled with trying to do what they had been taught; while doing so, they were all too aware that life had a funny way of throwing a fast one at them. Leah constantly worried about her two sisters and prayed each night that they would find the peace within them, the same peace that their mamm had tried so hard to instill within her children.

  Of course, she knew that she could only do so much for her sisters. She had her own hands full, balancing her home life with the bakery, while tending to the needs of her kinner and young Tobias. With a sigh, she walked back to the front of the store. No one had ever said that it was going to be right easy, Leah told herself.

  Lydia

  Lydia stretched out on the sofa, a cool wet washcloth on her forehead. With her eyes shut, she didn’t notice that her husband had walked through the doorway and was now standing there, staring at her. Indeed, Lydia breathed deeply, trying to calm her beating heart.

  How on earth could God do this to me, she wondered one more time, with more than her fair share of bitterness.

  “Lydia?”

  Opening her eyes, she glanced at the doorway. He was standing there, a bored look on his face as he watched her. His dark eyes seemed to bore a hole into her. His arms were crossed over his dirty white shirt and she noticed that one of his suspenders was torn at the shoulder.

  Sitting up, she plucked the cloth from her forehead and looked at him. “You back so soon, Abe?”

  He took a short, quick intake of breath, a look on his face that was either disapproving or concern. She never could quite tell. With his weathered skin from years working the fields, he often looked angry when, in reality, she knew he was not. “I might be asking you the same thing.” H
e walked into the room and stared at her as she sat on the sofa. “You didn’t finish out your day at the store again, then?”

  Lydia shrugged. “A headache came over me.”

  Abe glanced at the ceiling as he reached a hand out to tug at his greying beard, a gesture that indicated that he was thinking. He shook his head and sighed. “What was it this time? Susie again, I reckon?”

  She could tell from his reaction that he was bothered by her early presence at home. Again. Just once, she thought, she’d appreciate a touch of compassion from her husband instead of his too obvious disdain. Oh, she knew the reason why. She knew why he acted in such a distant manner. What Amish man wanted a barren wife? A wife that could not provide kinner to help the man on the farm?

  “It’s not my fault, Abe,” she cried out, immediately hating the defensive tone of her voice. “She was poking fun at my situation.”

  “Your situation,” he repeated sarcastically. “And what, may I ask, is that situation?” The word rolled off of his tongue with great sarcasm.

  Lydia lowered her eyes, fighting the urge to cry. She was tired of tears, tired of crying, and tired of him not consoling her when she wanted his arms around her and words of comfort whispered into her ears. When was the last time, she wondered. A year ago? “You know I want a boppli,” she whispered.

  “Oh ja, you remind me all the time,” he snapped.

  She gasped. While there had been tension between them for a while now, a year…maybe two…he had never spoken so sharply to her. “It’s not as if it’s my fault!”

  “Nee,” he laughed but it was without any mirth. “Therefore, it must be mine.”

  She started to stand up but he stopped her by holding out his hand. Lydia felt the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks for the second time that day. “Abe, I never said it was your fault, either. It’s God’s will, I reckon.”