A Faithful Gathering

by Leslie Gould

  Once they were gone, Lt. Shaw stood and motioned toward the trail along the lake, away from where the other couple had gone. “Want to go for a walk?”

  Joe nodded.

  Once they reached the trail, Lt. Shaw said, “I’m sorry I reacted that way in the car.”

  Joe wasn’t sure what to say, so he ended up changing the subject. “I’m sorry if you felt tricked into spending the evening this way.”

  She stopped and looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “The three of you are officers.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.

  He met her eyes. “You’ve been awfully kind to me.”

  “I like you, Joe. We all do. Like I said before, you’re a good man. And you act as if you belong—” She smiled. “I was going to say ‘even though you don’t.’ But that’s not true. You do belong. You’ve been a good friend to all of us.”

  “But you don’t want me to go to France.”

  She looked beyond him toward the lake. Clouds billowed on the horizon where the water met the sky. Her eyes met his again. “It’s not because you wouldn’t be an asset. It’s because I don’t want you going off to war. You’re Amish. You should be in Lancaster County farming—not in France driving an ambulance through battlefields.”

  “You shouldn’t be going off to war any more than me. You grew up Plain too.”

  “But I signed up, and I knew what I was getting into,” she said. “You should stay here in Chicago and return home as soon as possible. Please don’t pursue this anymore.”

  He exhaled and then confessed, “I already have. I mailed off letters to the AFS and to the Lancaster County Selective Service Board last week. I hope I’ll hear back from them soon.”

  “But what about your father? And sisters?”

  “They’ll have to trust God,” Joe said. “That’s what we’ll all have to do.”

  Joe sounded confident in his decision, but he wasn’t. Being accepted by the AFS could change his life in ways he couldn’t possibly anticipate. And even though he’d prayed about his decision, he wasn’t sure if he was following God’s will. Perhaps he was doing the exact opposite.

  On a muggy afternoon in late July, the day before Lt. Shaw and the others left for New York, Joe received two letters. One was a notice from the Selective Service Board that he was released to drive ambulances for the American Field Service. Relief rushed through him. The last line of the letter read, Your orders will arrive within a month.

  Then he opened a letter from his Dat. I’m getting by but long for the day you come home. I know God is using you where you are, but I look forward to having you by my side again. Joe swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d write his Dat that evening and update him about the upcoming change as far as his service, explaining that he didn’t have orders yet, but he would notify him when he did. He’d be honest that he’d sought out the position, but he didn’t expect his Dat to understand that he longed to do more to help the injured soldiers on the battlefield.

  He headed to the cafeteria, hoping Lt Shaw would be there.

  She wasn’t, but Lt. Madison was, with a group of other nurses. She spotted Joe right away. “Are you looking for Lt. Shaw?”

  His face grew warm. Was he that obvious?

  Lt. Madison flashed a smile, her lipstick bright red, and said, “She went for a walk.”

  Joe hurried out to the front of the hospital and along their usual route. After several blocks, he saw Lt. Shaw coming toward him. He wanted to wave his papers, but he knew she wouldn’t be as excited as he was.

  He strode toward her. She walked slowly until she saw him, then she swiped at her face. When he grew near, he could see that her blue eyes were rimmed red.

  “What’s the matter?” This time, he didn’t fight the urge to put his arm around her. Against his better judgment, he did.

  She leaned her head against him, fitting against his shoulder. “I’m sad about leaving.”

  “Sad about leaving the city?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll be with the others—Captain Russell and Lt. Madison.”

  She turned her head up and met his eyes. “I won’t be with you.”

  Joe stopped walking. She stepped back, but kept her gaze on his.

  He cleared his throat. “What do you mean by that? That you’ll miss me or . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “I mean I’ll miss you. I’ll miss the man who finally put his arm around me, when I’ve been longing for that since the day we met.”

  Joe cleared his throat again, not sure what to say.

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Like I said before, I know we have no future. In fact, our friendship ends today.”

  He pulled her close again. “We don’t know what the future holds.” His heart raced as he spoke, and he feared she’d hear the tremble in his voice. “But I know I’ll miss you too.” He held up the envelope in his free hand. “Maybe I’ll see you in Europe though.”

  “The Selective Service Board approved the transfer?”

  He nodded.

  Tears flooded down her face. “I wish you hadn’t.”

  “But I did.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped her tears. Then he wrapped her in a full hug, pulling her to his chest, which felt like the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll write to your APO address. I’ll let you know where I am, as best I can. If you’re anywhere close, I’ll find you.”

  She pressed her cheek against his denim shirt. He held her even tighter.

  11

  Leisel

  The next morning as I changed Caden’s diaper, I thought of Dawdi Joe falling in love with Lt. Shaw, going against all that he’d anticipated for his life.

  I’d never meant to fall in love with Nick either. We’d been acquaintances and then we were friends. And then one night while studying in the library toward the end of my second year of nursing school, I glanced at him from across the table. He had his head bent over his books and his hair fell over his forehead, covering one of his eyes.

  I swallowed hard as my heart began to race. Then he looked up at me and smiled.

  Grabbing my books, I stuttered, “I need to go.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a group meeting.” It wasn’t for another hour, but I had to get away from him.

  “What about tomorrow?” he asked. “Want to study after church?”

  “Maybe.” We both had the day off from work, which didn’t happen very often.

  The next morning, I considered not going to church but couldn’t skip. It was hard enough leaving the Amish—I couldn’t forego the practices of my faith altogether.

  I slipped in late and sat in the back. I quickly spotted Nick a few rows ahead of me, near a side aisle. He’d left room for me. My heart lurched again.

  I don’t remember the music from that day. But I do remember the scripture, right before the sermon. It was from Ecclesiastes 4: “And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

  It wasn’t as if Nick and I kept warm together. No, that wasn’t us. But we did encourage each other. I considered scooting up the aisle and sitting next to him. But would I seem too obvious?

  I exhaled. Just because I had feelings for him didn’t mean he did for me. Surely he wouldn’t even connect me sitting beside him with those verses. So what if I had a crush on him? We could stay friends. Nothing would change.

  As the pastor bowed to pray, I made my move.

  As I slipped into the pew, he gave me a sideways glance. He had the sweetest smile on his face, which practically sent my heart into AFib. Did he care about me too? Did he love me in the way that I realized I loved him?

  I bowed my head, determined to listen to the pastor.

  “Lord,” he prayed. “We need you, but we also need each other. We need community, we need friends. We know some are called to be single, and others are called to be married. Those people need spouses in this life. I ask that you’d make
that happen for them, Lord. . . .”

  My nervous system responded involuntarily, causing the capillaries of my skin to widen. In other words, my face had grown warm. And red, I was sure.

  Caden began to squirm, and I secured the last pin and then wiggled him into his plastic pants, making a mental note to buy a box of disposable diapers. Marie preferred cloth, but washing them in Mamm’s wringer washer was going to take forever.

  I stood Caden up, pulled up his pair of little-boy jeans, and kissed the blond fuzz on top of his head.

  “Mama?” he asked.

  “Let’s call Mama,” I said, “and see if we can talk to her, but we’ll need to go outside.” It was a gorgeous day, perfect for playing in the backyard.

  As I shifted Caden to my hip and traipsed through the living room, Aenti Suz was finishing up the morning dishes.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” she said.

  Caden waved as we passed by. As we stepped out on the front porch, I thought of my state boards. I’d check online tomorrow to see if I’d passed. Just the thought of it made me clammy all over.

  Once we were in the backyard, Caden pointed to a sparrow on the back fence.

  “Fokkel,” I said, knowing Marie hoped he would learn Pennsylvania Dutch along with English.

  “Bird!” he chirped.

  “Jah.” I laughed. “Fokkel.”

  He squirmed in my arms and pointed at another bird as I headed all the way over to the gate by the old oak tree, far away from Mamm or Arden, before I FaceTimed Marie. Thankfully, she answered. I held the phone up to Caden’s face as Marie came on the screen.

  “Hi, Boppli,” she cooed.

  “Mamamamamamama,” he squealed.

  For a moment I feared seeing Marie might make things worse for Caden, but he chattered away with sounds and squeals as the breeze blew through his fine hair. I couldn’t help but smile at the two of them.

  Marie told me she’d call later once she’d spoken with the doctor. After we all said good-bye, I pointed to the tree and said, “Bohm.”

  “Bohm!” Caden shouted.

  I hugged him tight, and when we reached the yard, I lowered him to the grass and he toddled along. Aenti Suz met us at the sandbox.

  Once I had the cover off and situated Caden with the toys, she told me she’d been thinking of ways for the farm to earn some extra money.

  I turned toward her, shading my eyes from the morning sun. “Such as?”

  “Well, we could set up a baked-goods stand on weekends and during tourist season.”

  I nodded. Arden might go for that.

  “And offer tours of the farm.”

  Arden definitely wouldn’t go for that.

  “And rent out the Dawdi Haus.”

  “Are you serious?” I couldn’t imagine Arden being all right with that in a million years.

  “Lots of people do it around here. In fact, I heard a family over in the next district uses an Englischer to help with the bookings. He has photos of their farm and the apartment above their barn on a website. Of course, they pay him to handle those details, but they still make a good amount of money.”

  “But where would you stay when the Dawdi Haus was rented out?”

  “In the big house. I know Arden and his family will move in sooner or later, but I might as well stay there with your Mamm until they do. We have so much room to spare—it’s ridiculous that I’m still in the Dawdi Haus.”

  That was true. It really wasn’t the Amish way to waste so much space. If Amos hadn’t moved away and had instead lived on the farm, Arden’s family would probably already be in the big house, instead of the house on the far end of the property, and Amos would be in theirs. Or if Silas had stayed working on our farm, then he, Jessica, and Ruby would live with Mamm. But they’d take over the farm on Garden Lane from John Stoltz.

  Or if Marie had married an Amish man without a farm or family business, they would have lived with Mamm.

  Or if I’d married an Amish man . . . Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen either.

  “So, what do you think?” Aenti Suz asked. “Do you like my idea?”

  “You’d be giving up your home.”

  She shrugged. “I lived in that big house the first chunk of my life. I’d be happy to live there again.”

  “You should talk to Jessica about it.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Aenti Suz said. “I thought I’d stop by the family in the next district who rents out the apartment and find out the name of the Englischer who does the website. Maybe I can get an idea of how much of a profit we could make.”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” I said. “But I don’t think Arden would allow it.”

  Aenti Suz just shrugged. “You never know.”

  I woke the next morning to a feeling of dread. The score for my test would be posted online by the end of the day. But before I could work myself into a panic, Caden pulled himself up in his crib and grinned at me, drool cascading down his chin.

  “Guder Mariye,” I cooed as I scooped him up in my arms. I washed his face, changed his diaper, and wriggled him into a pair of sweatpants and matching T-shirt.

  As I held him again, he put his hands on each side of my face and gave me a slobbery kiss on my lips. His trust stopped me. He had no doubt that I’d care for him. Change him. Bathe him. Feed him. Love him.

  And I would. I’d do anything I could to care for him. Did I trust anyone the way Caden trusted me?

  Jessica arrived about an hour later to stay with Caden so I could go check on Marie in the hospital. I followed her over to the big house and so did Aenti Suz. As I readied to leave, our aunt pitched her idea about renting out the Dawdi Haus as they stood in the kitchen with Ruby and Caden.

  Mamm overheard and stepped out of her sewing room. “Goodness,” she said. “Is the dairy doing that badly?”

  “It’s touch and go,” Jessica said. “Dairies all through the county—actually all through the country—are struggling.”

  “Why?” Mamm asked.

  “The price of milk is down,” Jessica answered. “People aren’t drinking as much, including in the Englisch schools.”

  It seemed so odd that what went on in Englisch homes and public schools could affect my family’s livelihood, but it did.

  “There’s talk of opening a processing plant in Lancaster County, which would help,” Jessica explained. “It’s all about supply and demand. Should we hang on until the supply goes down? Or the demand goes up? Or sell and get into another line of farming?”

  “But we could make money in other ways to tide us over,” Aenti Suz said.

  Mamm shook her head. “Not if it means renting to strangers. I can’t imagine having Englischers around.”

  “It would be a very practical way to earn extra money, Bethel,” Aenti Suz said. “And it wouldn’t take any resources other than what we already have, besides what it takes to maintain the website.”

  Mamm stepped back toward her sewing room. “Arden would never agree to such a thing.”

  “I’ll talk with him about it,” Jessica said. “In fact, I’ll take the kids outside and go find him. We still haven’t decided what we should do as far as the dairy herd, so we need to figure that out too.”

  The day was overcast and rain threatened, but I doubted that would deter Jessica or the children.

  While Aenti Suz went to harness her horse, I helped Jessica give the kids a quick snack and then wrestle them into their jackets. She headed out the back door with Caden and Ruby, and I grabbed my purse and dug out my phone once I got in the car.

  One text. From Nick. No surprise. Today’s the day. I’m sure you passed with flying colors. Let me know when you find out.

  Again, my stomach flopped. I quickly checked the website on my phone, just in case, but the scores weren’t posted yet.

  After I put my phone back into my purse, I looked up to see Bishop Jacobs coming toward me in his buggy. He stopped when he reached my car, and I lowered my window. “Is Suz arou
nd?” he asked.

  “She’s getting ready to run an errand,” I said.

  “Oh, here she comes.” He pointed toward the barn.

  I watched as the two buggies met. Bishop Jacobs climbed down out of his buggy and walked over to Aenti Suz’s window. Her face was hidden by the reflections on the windshield, but it seemed they were in some sort of heated exchange. My Aenti was the exact opposite of my mother. Mamm was fearful. Aenti Suz was fearless.

  When Bishop Jacobs marched back over to his buggy, I drove away, embarrassed that I’d been, essentially, spying. My guess was Bishop Jacobs didn’t want Marie staying with Aenti Suz.

  As I headed into Lancaster, I wondered what would happen if Bishop Jacobs forbid Marie from staying at the farm. I could sleep on the couch in Marie and Gordon’s apartment, but the flights of steep stairs would be hard for Marie, no matter what. If Randi’s kitchen wasn’t torn up, that would be an option. But taking care of Marie and Caden while washing dishes down the hall in the bathtub didn’t sound like fun.

  Several miles up the road, I passed the turnoff toward Nick’s parents’ house. Normally, I saw them when I came back to Lancaster County, but I hadn’t had a spare moment to do so. My thoughts returned to the church service on that eventful day when the pastor had prayed for spouses for the single people in the church. As we’d walked back to his truck, Nick had reached for my hand. The gesture seemed as natural as breathing. Just like that, we’d entered a new phase of our relationship.

  I met his parents for the first time about a month after Nick and I officially began dating. We’d come home to Lancaster for a weekend after classes ended, and I was staying with Mamm. He’d stopped by and told me he’d spoken to his parents about us and that they both hoped to meet me.

  He’d met both Marie and Jessica, and Aenti Suz too, during my first year of nursing school, after Jessica had an ectopic pregnancy and Aenti Suz had been injured in a bus accident on the way home from Pinecraft. He drove me home so I could see them. And then Marie moved to Pittsburgh and lived with me the next summer for a couple of months until she realized how much she loved Gordon and returned to Lancaster.