by Beth Wiseman
“I ain’t ever seen anyone so scared of an MRI.”
Esther had mixed emotions about Gus being with her, but the need for someone familiar outweighed whatever obnoxious words might come out of Gus’s mouth. Apparently she’d been right. Even without a straw hat, Gus resembled an Amish man, and the woman had just assumed he was Esther’s husband.
It wasn’t ten minutes later when Esther found herself flat on her back on a hard surface. Gus was sitting on the other side of a window with the woman in blue. Esther had removed the pins from her dress but was able to keep her apron on. The room was sterile and cold and . . . awful. They’d given her a panic button to hold and said if she was uncomfortable at any time to push the button and they would stop the machine. The woman also told her if that happened, they would have to start the procedure over. Just the thought of having a panic button was enough to induce panic.
As the platform slowly moved her into the machine, a large round wheel began to spin around her. She was crying and trembling and not sure if the test had officially even started. Her chest tightened as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the lady in blue was standing beside her and the machine was slowing down.
“Sweetie, we can’t do this unless you are perfectly still.”
“I-I’m so very sorry. So sorry.” Esther winced with embarrassment as she asked God to help her be still and get through this with some sort of dignity. I wish Lizzie were here.
“It will be over before you know it.” The woman left the room and the door clicked closed. The spinning circle started up again, growing louder and louder. Even with ear plugs, the noise was uncomfortable. She squeezed her eyes shut, held tightly to the panic button, and prayed she could stop crying long enough for whatever they needed to do. She jumped when someone took hold of her free hand, and her eyes widened in shock.
“You’re gonna be all right, Esther.” Gus yelled as he squeezed her hand. “They said I can sit here with you through the whole thing. So try to relax, okay?”
Tears poured down both cheeks but she nodded, then closed her eyes, squeezed Gus’s hand, and stayed as still as she could.
When it was over, she opened her eyes, let go of Gus’s hand, and waited for him to make fun of her or say something horrible that the staff would hear. But as they walked out of the room together, he patted her on the back.
“You did good.” Then he chuckled, his jowls jiggling. “Woman.”
Esther was so relieved to have the test over and done with, she laughed. She’d always believed there was good in everyone. Sometimes it was just buried a little deeper in certain people.
* * *
Naomi kissed Thomas goodbye after they’d had supper, which had become the norm. Lizzie even insisted on doing some of the cooking so Naomi could spend more time with him. It was a very unselfish gesture, considering her feelings about Thomas.
They’d settled into a routine and were starting to talk about wedding plans, even though it was too late in the season to get married any time soon. Weddings were always held in October or November after the harvest, so it would be almost a year before they could marry. Naomi wished it could be sooner. In the back of her mind, she constantly wondered if Thomas would disappear again before they began their lives as husband and wife. It was a worry she struggled with and pushed aside when it bubbled to the surface.
When he was out of sight, she walked across the yard until she could see Amos down by the pond. He was out there painting every night when she got home, and as much as Naomi longed to feel a brush in her hand, she wondered if it would be a betrayal to Thomas to spend time alone with Amos. She and Amos were pleasant enough to each other during meals and devotions, but it was awkward, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Today she was going to break the pattern. She was curious about his painting. And she wanted to prove to herself that she could get past any temptation she’d felt where Amos was concerned. Thomas was back, but talking to a friend wasn’t betrayal.
“Wie bischt,” she said as she came up behind him, pulling her cape tightly around her. They’d had their first frost, and the nights were almost cold enough for a heavy coat.
He finished a long, careful stroke before easing the brush away from the canvas and turning to her. “How was your date?”
Naomi hesitated, trying to decide if there was any mockery in the question. “Gut.” She pointed to his painting. “You started over.”
He looked at her for a few seconds. “Ya, I did.” Still holding his paint palette, he laid down his brush and refocused on the canvas. “Something’s missing. I’ve been working on this same canvas for days, but I can’t get it the way I want.” He turned to her. “What do you think?”
Naomi moved closer to him and the painting before she backed up a few steps and eyed the artwork. “Amos, this is beautiful.” And she meant it. “I-I can’t get over how pretty it is.”
A flush crept across his cheeks. “Danki.” Setting down the palette, he backed up until he was standing right next to her. “Only Gott can see this landscape for the true beauty I’m trying to capture, but something is missing.”
As beautiful as the painting was, Naomi had to agree. Whatever was missing was so subtle that if Amos hadn’t mentioned it, she wouldn’t have noticed.
“You’re frowning,” he said. “Be honest. There is something missing, ya?” His arm brushed against hers as he raised his arm and scratched his forehead.
Naomi had figured it out, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him. One color would add the missing element. There wasn’t a hint of red in the painting, and despite all the orange hues, lush green cornstalks in the background, and a reflection off the pond that was as close to perfection as she’d ever seen—red was a major color used to enhance the overall brilliance in a painting. She’d read that in the book Esther had given her. Red was also the color of love.
Naomi had found her love again. Amos hadn’t. He also hadn’t read any of the book because it was in Naomi’s bedroom.
“I think it’s perfect,” she finally said.
“Nee.” He shook his head before he turned to her. “I’ll replace the two canvases I’ve used before I leave.”
“Leave?” Her heart did an unexpected flip. “When?”
“I’ll stay another week to finish Esther’s list, then I’m going home.” His eyes locked with hers.
“Um . . . of course.” She tried to smile. “You can’t stay forever. I know you have a business to get back to.”
“Not much going on this time of year, but it’s time for me to go when I’m done.”
He wasn’t smiling, and his expression wasn’t revealing much. Did he have any regret that he would be leaving soon? She supposed nothing was keeping him here.
“There’s no reason for me to stay,” he said, then he began packing up the painting supplies.
Naomi was confused why this bothered her so much. “Would you have stayed if Thomas hadn’t come back?” It was a bold thing to ask, but the words slipped out before she had time to consider the consequences. What if he said yes?
He folded the easel, picked up the wagon handle, and with no emotion on his face, said, “I guess we’ll never know.”
She was trying to form a sentence that would make sense, but he began the trek to the house. The more she thought about him leaving in a week, the more it stung. Why? She loved Thomas.
But as the sun made its final descent, she surmised that she and Amos had become friends, and anytime you had to say goodbye to a friend, it was difficult. She wondered if they would stay in touch by writing letters to each other. Would that be a betrayal to Thomas? She didn’t think Thomas would like that, and once they were married, he would be the head of the household.
Naomi was raised in a household where her mother had a say in everything, but ultimately her father had the final word. Her mother said that was the way things went in Amish families. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d ever questioned.
Why did she feel unse
ttled about Thomas being the head of their household and having final decision-making power over her? Was this her version of cold feet?
She watched Amos walk into the house.
Or is it something else?
Seventeen
Amos fluffed his pillow, settled into the covers, and stared at the ceiling. There was no doubt Naomi had a negative reaction when he told her he was leaving. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her question. Would he be leaving so soon if Thomas hadn’t come back?
He’d answered truthfully by saying they’d never know. Amos had a family and a business in Ohio. But would he have stayed long enough to see if the feelings he had for Naomi escalated into more than friendship? As it was now, all he could think about was the kiss they’d almost had, and what it would have been like. Although it would have been worse if he’d kissed her, making it harder to part ways.
As he tried to turn off his mind about Naomi, guilt moved in. He hadn’t thought about Sarah all day, maybe not even the day before, or the day before that. Amos had assumed he would think about her every day for the rest of his life. He would love her forever, but since he’d arrived in Indiana, she hadn’t consumed his thoughts as she had over the past year. Was it because of Naomi? Had there been more brewing between them than he’d realized?
He rolled over on his side, deciding it didn’t matter. Thomas was home.
* * *
Esther knocked on Gus’s door around ten, after she was sure everyone was asleep.
“I still have chocolate pie,” he said after he opened the door.
“Ach, ya, but I figured it was almost gone, and it did land upside down on your porch.” She pushed a covered plate toward him. “I brought you a slice of apple, one of pecan, and two fresh slices of chocolate.”
Gus actually smiled, but it was fleeting, and his signature scowl returned. “I’m already taking you to your medical tests. You aren’t going to ask me for another favor, are you?”
Esther stared at the ground for a couple seconds before she looked back at him. “Nee, Gus. I was just returning a kindness, and a deal’s a deal.”
“What kindness?” He crinkled his nose. “You widows hate me.”
“Gus . . .” Esther tried to choose her words carefully. He obviously didn’t recognize the kindness he’d shown her during the MRI earlier that day. “We don’t hate you.”
“That wacky sister of yours does.” He lifted the plastic wrap on one side of the plate, pulled out the slice of pecan pie, and took a big bite.
“Lizzie doesn’t hate you either.” Esther didn’t think Lizzie was capable of hating anyone, even though her feelings about Gus could definitely be described as a strong dislike.
“Thanks for the pie.” He closed the door in Esther’s face, but instead of being mad, she smiled. Gus could keep on pretending he was a horrible man, and maybe he had been, based on the comments she’d overheard from his daughter and her own prior experiences with him. But Esther had once again been given a glimpse of the man Gus could be.
All the way back to the house, she prayed that the Lord would open Gus’s heart so he could recognize the good in himself, then apply that goodness in his life. Then she recalled a comment Gus had made about God. Maybe Gus wasn’t a believer, but God believed in him. Over time, Esther hoped Gus would come to realize the current of love that flowed both ways.
* * *
Naomi stayed out of sight as Esther came up the porch steps, but she’d watched from the window when Esther came back from Gus’s house. She’d carried a lantern that lit the space around her just enough to see her expression when she got near the main house. In Naomi’s experience, there wasn’t much to smile about when it came to Gus. Esther had always been more tolerant of him than Lizzie was, but Naomi had heard her complaining about the man plenty of times.
She reached for her brush in the drawer of her nightstand and began running it through her brown hair, which reached well past her waist. Thomas had never seen her hair down. She’d always worn her prayer covering, even though lots of women she knew admitted that their husbands saw their hair down before they were married. Naomi wanted to keep with tradition. She pictured their wedding night—Thomas easing off her prayer covering, removing the pins that held her hair, and running his hands through it as it fell past her shoulders. She’d had the vision a hundred times, but tonight it didn’t hold the allure it once had. Why?
Amos. She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Thomas hadn’t returned. Would she and Amos have broken their own rule and fallen in love? He was right when he said they’d never know. She wondered if he regretted not having the opportunity. Naomi questioned why she was even considering it when it would never happen now, but she couldn’t corral her thoughts. What would have happened if Amos had kissed her?
As her mind drifted in another direction, she cringed when she thought about Thomas kissing another woman. She wondered if that was all they’d done. Thomas’s hands had always tried to drift to places they shouldn’t.
She climbed into bed, much later than normal, and somehow anger had latched on to her like a hungry tick, feeding on her until she festered. As she closed her eyes to try to sleep, she prayed for God to remove this delayed resentment from her heart.
She’d told Thomas they needed to look backward before they could move forward, and they’d done that, even if he had avoided some of her questions. Carrying the weight of the past wasn’t going to help them build a future together. She tried to push past her bitterness and sleep, but she tossed and turned for a long time.
* * *
Naomi yawned on and off during breakfast.
“Someone must not have slept well.” Lizzie smiled wide, which cheered Naomi up. Lizzie was always proud when she had her dentures in correctly, and she smiled at everything.
“Nee, I tossed and turned a lot.” Without being overt, she couldn’t look at Amos sitting next to her. She had a strong urge to have a conversation with him, even though she had no idea what she wanted to say, which sounded silly in her mind.
He pushed back his chair, stood up, and looked at Naomi. “Danki for another gut meal. Mei mamm is a wonderful cook, but I think you’ve outdone her.” He grinned. “But let’s don’t ever tell her that.” He chuckled, as if going home didn’t hold any consequences or regrets for him. “I’ll miss these great meals when I leave.”
“Miss them? Leave?” Lizzie glanced at Esther, then back at Amos. “There’s still a lot to do here. I hope you aren’t leaving soon.”
“In a week,” he said, still seemingly unaffected. “I will have completed everything on the list, and by the time I get home, Thanksgiving will only be a couple weeks away.” Looking directly at Naomi, he said, “But I’ve enjoyed mei time here very much, and I’ve gotten reacquainted with painting and plan to keep doing it when I get home.”
Naomi hadn’t even thought about Thanksgiving. Of course he’d want to spend the holiday with his family.
Lizzie didn’t say anything. Neither did Esther. How could they argue with him for wanting to be home at Thanksgiving?
After he left, Lizzie groaned softly. Esther remained quiet.
“You know I’m with Thomas now, and we’re planning our wedding for next fall. There is no hope of pushing Amos and me together.” She glanced back and forth between Esther and Lizzie, pointing a finger. “So no trickery. No locking us in the basement or any other crazy thing to make him stay. Surely you understand that he wants to be with his family for Thanksgiving.”
Esther sighed. “Of course, dear.”
Lizzie raised her chin and sat taller. “With a little more time, I think you’d realize that Amos is a much better fit for you than Thomas.”
“I’m a grown woman, Lizzie. I’m quite capable of choosing who is the best fit for me, and I’d like to spend the rest of mei life with Thomas.” Naomi’s voice had risen as she spoke, a surprise even to her. Was she trying to convince herself she’d made the right decision? She wasn’t ev
en sure there was a decision on the table.
They were quiet, and then they all cleaned the kitchen together. When they were done, Naomi waited until Esther and Lizzie were occupied before she walked out to the barn. She pulled the door open and noticed it didn’t stick or squeak anymore.
“You fixed the barn door,” she said as she came inside, shivering.
“And you forgot your cape again.” Amos slipped out of his jacket and put it around her shoulders, lingering close to her for longer than was necessary before he moved back to the workbench.
Naomi pulled the coat around her and eased her way next to him. “What are you working on?”
He stretched some chicken wire taut, securing it to a frame. “I found where your chickens are getting out, so I’m adding some reinforcement.”
“Oh.” She folded her hands in front of her. “I’d like to paint with you tonight, if that’s okay.”
“Ya, sure.” He glanced at her. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Naomi shrugged. She wished he had been a tad more excited, or even just happy to have company, but he sounded nonchalant, like he didn’t care one way or the other.
“What about Thomas? You’ve been with him every night but one since he came back.” He tugged on the wire and then reached for a hammer.
Ah, maybe he cares a little. “He doesn’t tell me what to do. He won’t mind.” Naomi wondered where this attitude was coming from.
“You sure about that?” Grinning, Amos cut his eyes at her briefly. “I’m not sure he was happy about us staying under the same roof.”
Naomi waved a hand in the air. “Ach, he got over that. He knows there is nothing between us.” She’d intentionally not mentioned Amos’s name around Thomas, based on his initial reaction to him.
“Then I guess I’ll see you at dinner, supper, and then down by the pond.”
It sounded like he was dismissing her. “Um . . . okay.” She handed him back his coat, then slowly walked to the exit, but he never said anything else as she closed the repaired barn door behind her.