by Amy Clipston
He took a deep breath. He’d made love to this woman, had a child with her, and loved her with all of his heart for so many years. But as he gazed at her now, he saw a stranger. A ghost from his past. He didn’t know anything about her, except that she lived in Florida. She didn’t know anything about him either.
“I-I’ve been here a while.” Ruth glanced back at Grace’s grave. There was a bouquet of yellow roses laid across the grass. “I can let you have some time with her.”
“No. Stay.” The words jumped from his mouth before he had time to think. He wouldn’t be able to hold back his tears much longer, and he hadn’t even been able to look directly at his daughter’s headstone yet. Did he want Ruth to see him this way?
Being alone seemed terrifying all of a sudden, though. As a tear trickled down his cheek, he placed one of the bouquets next to the flowers Ruth had left. Gideon knew Grace wasn’t there. She was in heaven. He wondered if she could see him. Did God give her glimpses of the lives that went on without her? Gideon hoped not. Grace would surely be disappointed in her parents.
“I miss you every single day of my life.” He squatted down and placed his hands on the grass where her body was laid to rest, recalling the images of his father, father-in-law, Amos, and two cousins lowering his beloved little girl into the ground. The tears came full force then, and even harder when Ruth knelt beside him and put an arm around him. She lay her head on his shoulder, weeping along with him. Then she tearfully reached for Gideon’s hand and began to recite the Lord’s Prayer.
There were things to be said, situations to handle . . . but right now, they were two parents praying over their daughter’s grave. Everything else could wait.
After a few moments of silence, they both stood. Gideon pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his eyes, embarrassed that he was trembling and crying in front of Ruth.
He wanted to tell her how sorry he was that he’d failed her, that he was sorry he hadn’t had the strength to provide the emotional support she needed back then. Did he tell her that during one of their phone calls that first year they stayed in touch? Surely he did. But his thoughts were scrambled, and he still needed to do one more thing while he was here.
“Do you want to come with me?” He nodded four headstones to his left. His mother was buried on the other side of his grandparents.
“If that’s okay. I’ve already visited her grave, but I’d like to go with you.” They’d both stopped crying, and the soberness and silence were deafening. Too many thoughts and memories slammed around in his head. He walked alongside Ruth to his mother’s grave, determined not to cry again, but his best efforts failed him. Ruth reached for his hand, and together they knelt and prayed. She trembled right along with him as he placed the other dozen roses beside the arrangement Ruth must have left earlier.
“Even after five years, the pain feels fresh.” He stared at his mother’s grave for a few seconds before he stood and offered a hand to Ruth. Gideon wondered if this trip would undo all his hard work to control his grief. He supposed it never went away, but time and prayer had helped. Being back here, seeing Ruth, it was all painful and confusing.
“I hope you’re doing well in Florida.” He cleared his throat and thought about what a dumb and casual thing it was to say when there was clearly so much more they needed to talk about. But now probably wasn’t the right time for anything heavy.
Ruth nodded. “I am.” She smiled a little, and he caught her looking him up and down. She’d never seen him in blue jeans and a T-shirt before. “I guess you chose not to join another Amish community.” Waving a hand at her own attire, she said, “Obviously, neither did I.”
“It didn’t feel right, even if another district had accepted me, I . . .” He shrugged. “I had forsaken God. But I found Him at a non-denominational church.”
“That’s good.” She kept her eyes cast down as they inched back to their vehicles. “I found a church, too, but . . .” She lifted one shoulder, then dropped it. “It’s not the same.”
Gideon wondered what was going through Ruth’s mind. His own thoughts were all over the place. Why did they stop talking and writing letters? The cease in communication wasn’t abrupt. The phone calls and letters became less and less until they just no longer existed.
As they walked, they didn’t touch each other, didn’t hold hands like earlier. Each stride felt shaky and awkward, but only a few minutes ago, they’d shown the most intimate parts of themselves when they’d cried over their lost loved ones. Should he hug her before they left? He wished their first meeting hadn’t been a surprise for either of them, but maybe this was how it was meant to be. Perhaps God knew they would need each other for this visit to Grace’s and his mother’s final resting spots.
Gideon walked her to her car and opened the door for her. She got in and turned back to him. “Esther said you had some papers for me to sign.”
He nodded over his shoulder toward his truck. “Oh, yeah. I do. They’re actually in my backseat. Hang on. I’ll get them.”
Returning with a large white envelope, he handed it to her. “I’ll give you time to look these over and see if there is anything you want to change or don’t agree with.”
She took the envelope but avoided looking at him as she set it on the passenger seat by her purse. “Okay.”
Ruth started the car, but Gideon wasn’t ready for her to go. “I feel like we have some things to talk about.” At the very least, Gideon wanted to hear about her life, where she worked, if she was happy. On a more personal note, was she seeing anyone? Had she been with anyone else? He probably didn’t have a right to ask about that.
She glanced at him briefly, then looked at the white envelope to her right. “There’s probably nothing for us to talk about. I’ll get this back to you soon.”
Gideon’s jaw dropped. How could she say that? She clearly didn’t have an inkling of love left for him. And just the opposite was true for him. He still loved her, as much now as ever, which could be a problem for him and the woman he was dating back home, but Gideon was willing to work through it to have another chance with Ruth.
Reuniting hadn’t been on his mind prior to seeing her today, but he’d begun to ponder the possibility the moment he laid eyes on her. If she didn’t think they had anything to talk about, he’d take care of business here and head back to Ohio.
But then she started to cry again, and Gideon was more confused than ever.
CHAPTER 3
Ruth forced herself to stop crying. She’d known they couldn’t stay in limbo forever, but she hadn’t expected divorce papers on this trip.
She finally gazed into Gideon’s eyes. He was the only man she’d ever loved, and her chest tightened until she struggled to breathe. “Are you seeing someone?” she whispered.
“Ruthie . . .” Gideon took off his hat and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, then dabbed at the sweat pooling on his forehead.
Ruth squeezed her eyes closed, wishing she hadn’t asked, and wishing he hadn’t called her Ruthie. He’d been the only one to ever call her that, and it made his hesitation to answer hurt even more.
“We haven’t communicated in over four years, not even a letter.” He paused as he put his hat back on. “Why are you even asking me that when you don’t think we have anything to talk about?”
Gideon had moved on. She could tell by his continued avoidance of the question. She looked at the white envelope. Why prolong the inevitable by hashing everything out? This trip was about reconnecting with her family and trying to capture moments of joy and focus on the good memories. Esther warned her about the papers so she wouldn’t be caught off guard. But she’d completely unraveled, and she’d done so in front of Gideon.
Ruth thought her heart might explode, and she wondered if Gideon could see it pounding against her chest. She had chosen not to date anyone, but it was wrong of her to assume Gideon hadn’t found someone to share his life with.
“I’ll look over the papers and get them
back to you.” Her voice sounded small and fragile, even to herself. She always thought if she ever saw Gideon again she would portray herself as the strong woman she was before Grace’s accident.
“Ruthie . . .”
She squeezed her eyes closed again, then opened them wide as her chest tightened even more.
Gideon rubbed his forehead. “Does it even matter if I’m seeing someone else?”
Her husband still had a long dark beard. She’d noticed it when she first saw him. It had given her hope that he wasn’t pretending to be single. She wondered if he would shave it after they were divorced.
She wanted to tell him that it did matter, but this was all too much to process. Visiting Grace was hard enough. Seeing Gideon was a welcomed reunion at first. No matter how badly they treated each other after Grace and Mae died, there was a bond between them. Parents have an unbreakable connection, but also an understanding when bereaved. Facing divorce, something she didn’t even believe in, should have been on her radar, but couldn’t it have waited? He must be in love with someone else.
She said good-bye and closed her door, then backed out of the small parking area without looking back. She drove around for thirty minutes, long enough to stop crying.
Even though she and Gideon weren’t living a married life God would approve of, they were still married. She’d been asked out plenty of times in Florida, but she declined every invitation. She was married. But apparently being legally and spiritually bound hadn’t stopped Gideon from finding someone else. His evasive answer—Does it really matter?—seemed to confirm he was in love with another woman, thus the need for a divorce.
When she turned into Esther and Amos’s driveway, her heart sank. There were buggies everywhere. Ruth forgot Esther and her mother had a group of women coming today to work on wedding preparations for their childhood friends, Ben and Annie. Even though the wedding wasn’t until October, an Amish wedding was a big deal, and there was a lot to be done, just like weddings in the outside world. This was the last thing Ruth wanted to be around, but she was sure her sister and the other women already heard her pull in the driveway.
She shuffled toward the front door, which was open, and as she stepped across the threshold, the breeze at her back, she inhaled the smell of cookies baking. Her mother was the first to greet her with a hug. Ruth told her last night at supper that she would be visiting Grace today.
“I think everyone knows mei dochder, Ruth, ya?” Her mother waved an arm around the room.
Ruth forced herself to smile as she glanced at the women. In unison the ladies and girls—about twelve of them—flashed a smile as if on cue.
“It’s great to be here,” Ruth said, wishing she could get back in the car and head to the airport. But then she locked eyes with Esther, who wasn’t smiling. She knew Ruth well enough to know something was wrong.
After everyone settled back into a conversation about the wedding, Ruth sat quietly, her insides swirling with anxiety, her heart pumping faster than it should. Occasionally, the women brought her into the conversation and asked an opinion about the meal to be served or items the bride and groom might need to start their lives. Ruth had known Annie and Ben all her life, and she wanted to be happy about this wedding, but her own marriage was ending, and the chatter was becoming torturous. But didn’t my marriage end five years ago?
Every time the conversation shifted to anything about children, someone quickly redirected the topic. They didn’t want to say anything about Grace. Even last night with her parents, Esther, Amos, and Becky—her immediate family—no one mentioned Grace.
Ruth wanted to remind everyone that Grace had lived, been loved, and existed. It was worse for everyone to work so hard at avoiding any mention of her. People back in Florida didn’t know Grace. Friends and coworkers listened, commented, and were generally sympathetic when Ruth spoke about her only child. But this was Grace’s family and people who knew her well, the diary keepers of the short life she’d lived. These loved ones held the fond recollections and happy memories Ruth wanted to take home with her.
After what seemed like hours, Becky came bouncing down the stairs, her unmanageable blonde curls flying loose from her prayer covering, the way they’d done since Ruth arrived. Esther met her daughter at the stairs and whispered something in her ear. Becky walked directly to Ruth while the ladies continued talking.
Becky whispered in Ruth’s ear, “I collect the eggs in the mornings, but I didn’t this morning because there was a snake in front of the coop.” She glanced around and saw that no one was paying attention to her. “Will you come with me?” The child reached for Ruth’s hand.
Ruth glanced at Esther, who offered her a weak smile. This was surely Esther’s idea to save her, and Ruth was more than happy to oblige Becky’s request.
Her niece held her hand tightly all the way to the chicken coop, then squeezed as she pointed with her other hand. “That’s where the snake was.”
Becky’s hand trembled in Ruth’s, but the instincts of motherhood were still there. Ruth was equally as afraid of snakes, but it was her job to squash the girl’s fear. She squatted down in front of her beautiful niece.
“I know snakes look very scary, and some of them are dangerous, but the only snakes I ever saw when I lived here were chicken snakes, and they won’t hurt you.”
Becky sighed, then swatted at a fly buzzing their heads. “Will you be here for Ben and Annie’s wedding?”
Ruth stood and brushed off her jeans. “Um, nee.” Again she slipped into her native dialect. “I’m only going to be here a week.”
Becky pushed her lips into a pout. “That’s not very long.”
“I know. But maybe I’ll visit more often.” It was much too soon to know when she would return. A lot of things could happen while she was here. She thought about the white envelope in the car that she hadn’t opened yet. Would divorce give her some closure and allow her to move on, the way Gideon had? Would it be easier to visit this place where she grew up? Or did divorce have less to do with it? Would the healing forces of time make things easier? She wasn’t sure.
After Ruth searched around the coop for snakes, she and Becky went inside. Her niece picked up a small basket and they collected the eggs. They worked quietly for a while before Becky spoke.
“Why don’t you and Gideon live in the same place?” Becky stretched her neck up to look at Ruth. “Is it because your daughter, Grace, died?”
Ruth blinked a few times. “I suppose that’s part of it.” She had no plans to divulge her marital issues to a five-year-old and hoped to redirect the conversation, but Becky spoke up again.
“Mamm said Grace was beautiful and very smart and gut at numbers. Daed said a terrible thing happened to her and her mammi, but that it was Gott’s will for them to go to heaven.” She cocked her head to one side, frowning. “Do you think so?”
Ruth had spent a long time struggling to accept that Grace’s and Mae’s deaths were God’s will, but she finally had. She learned in her support group that not everyone believed the way the Amish did. Part of Ruth would always be Amish no matter where she lived or what religion she practiced.
“Ya. I guess I do.”
When the basket was full, they secured the chicken coop and started back to the house, the last place Ruth wanted to go. Becky stopped abruptly, looking up at Ruth again.
“Do you want to see mei garden? It’s not big like Mamm’s, but she let me do it by myself.”
“I’d love to see your garden.”
Ruth carried the basket of eggs, and Becky latched on to her free hand. “Will you tell me about Grace? She is mei cousin, right?”
Ruth’s first instinct was to shelter the child from the tears that would surely spill. Instead she pictured Grace skipping across the yard and kicking her feet high in the swing to Ruth’s right. Talking about Grace would create happy memories of this time with Becky—a winning combination.
“I would love to tell you all about Grace.” She smiled do
wn at the precious little girl.
For the next half hour, Ruth sat with her niece in the grass beside Becky’s small garden and told her about Grace. Her niece glowed the entire time, asked questions, and laughed at some of Grace’s adventures. She especially liked the story about how Grace taught herself to ride a unicycle.
“Her daed found the one-wheel bike at a yard sale,” Ruth said as she finished the story. “Grace wanted to ride it to school, but she couldn’t keep her balance since she had books and a lunchbox.” She chuckled. “But it didn’t keep her from trying for over a week.”
They were both laughing when a white truck turned in the driveway. Ruth’s mood sobered right away.
Gideon.
CHAPTER 4
Gideon eyed all the buggies and wondered what he had interrupted. He considered leaving until he saw Ruth and a little girl walking hand in hand toward him. Gideon didn’t know the child, but all he could see was Ruth and Grace walking together. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear the image.
He waved toward the line of buggies and the horses tethered to the fence side by side. “I must have come at a bad time.”
“Esther and my mother are hosting a group of women to finalize plans for Ben and Annie’s wedding. If you’ve come to talk about the papers, now isn’t the best time.” Ruth glanced at Becky, who smiled.
“Are you Gideon, Ruth’s husband?” The child still held Ruth’s hand as her expression dimpled.
Gideon’s gaze met the little girl’s bright blue eyes. “Yes, I am.” It felt odd to admit he was Ruth’s husband since they hadn’t lived as husband and wife for so long. “And are you Becky?” The child had Esther’s features, but he didn’t remember Ruth’s sister having blonde curls when she was young.
The girl nodded. “That’s what I thought. You’re handsome like Aenti Ruth said.”
Gideon glanced at Ruth, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes as she blushed.
Becky stood up on her toes and grinned. “Aenti Ruth told me all about Grace. I wish I had known her. But she’s in heaven with Gott.”