by Leslie Gould
We chatted about the weather, about the end of the year at Barbara’s school, and about a recent electrical outage in surgery while Doug was working at the hospital. Luckily, the generators had turned on immediately.
No one mentioned that I’d failed my boards, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Nick had told them. Barbara did ask how long I planned to stay in Lancaster.
“I’m not sure.” I left it at that.
As I took my last bite, Doug turned toward me. “So what do you think of Nick’s idea to join the Air Force?”
“Dad.” Nick shook his head as he spoke.
Doug’s face reddened. “Sorry,” he said. “It appears I misspoke.”
“How about some ice cream?” Barbara said quickly, reaching for Nick’s plate and then mine.
“No, thank you. I should be getting back,” I said. “I ought to help Aenti Suz get Caden to bed.” Honestly, Gordon was probably in charge of Caden by now, but I would rather be anywhere else at the moment.
As we headed into the house, Barbara asked Kaylee to grab a foil pan out of the refrigerator. By the time we reached the front door, Kaylee appeared, handing me the pan.
“I made an extra lasagna,” Barbara said. “You can put it in the freezer or use it in the next day or two. I know you’re doing a lot right now.”
Touched, I took it from her. She put her arm around me. “I’m praying for Marie and for all of you,” she said. “We hope you’ll come back and visit us soon.”
Next, Doug gave me a half hug and whispered, “Sorry to butt in where I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s fine,” I answered. “Don’t worry about it.” His intentions were good.
As I climbed into Nick’s pickup, a wave of exhaustion swept over me.
Nick started the engine. “I mentioned the Air Force to Dad a couple of months ago. I didn’t think he’d bring it up in front of you.”
When I didn’t respond, Nick continued. “But speaking of—are you ready to talk about it?”
I shook my head, and we were both silent until he turned onto Oak Road and asked, “What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”
“How about one? I’ll have Caden down for a nap by then.” I’d ask Aenti Suz to be in charge of him when he woke up.
“How about if I come tomorrow morning and help with the garden? I noticed the weeds were getting high.”
I hesitated. “You shouldn’t spend all of your time off helping me.”
“I’d like to.”
“All right.” I really could use his help with the garden—that way I could tackle the laundry. I welcomed his help in the present as long as I didn’t have to talk about the future.
For the next week, Nick came every day to help me with chores—even with the laundry—and then we studied in the afternoon. He always had me back by five, in time to help Aenti Suz fix supper. As it turned out, Mamm hadn’t stepped up to help.
A couple of times, Aenti Suz roped Nick into helping her in the Dawdi House. It was soon obvious that she was deep cleaning, in hopes that Arden would change his mind. Nick moved an extra bureau to the barn and several boxes too, along with helping Aenti Suz rearrange all of the furniture. He also helped her wash windows and repair the flower boxes. Arden walked by at one point with a frown on his face, but he didn’t say anything.
The Dawdi Haus looked great. There was absolutely no clutter—not that there had been much before, but now there was only the couch, a table and chairs, a bookshelf in the main room, and the beds and dressers in the two bedrooms, along with Marie and Gordon’s belongings, for the time being.
“What about electricity?” I asked as Aenti Suz, Jessica, and I surveyed the newly arranged living room. “Most Englischers aren’t going to be able to unplug completely.”
“I was thinking about buying a battery-operated blow dryer and a battery-operated phone charger. Plus, battery-operated lamps. Do you think they’ll mind making coffee and tea the old-fashioned way?”
“Probably not.” She had a propane stove, and it was easy enough to heat up a kettle of water. “You could always buy a French press for the coffee. That will make it easier.”
Jessica folded her hands as if she were praying. “This really is a good idea. And I don’t know why Arden is so set against it. He won’t be anywhere near the Englischers.”
I guessed he was probably against it because Jessica was for it.
“Well,” she continued, “I’m going to go over the accounts with him later today. Perhaps that will convince him.”
That afternoon, Nick and I headed to the bakery for our last study session. We each ordered a coffee and decided to split a cinnamon roll. And then we got down to business, making the most of our time. We concentrated on the physiological integrity section, focusing on pharmacological therapies, the risk potentials, and adaptations.
As I went through the practice questions, Nick helped me research any follow-up information I needed and came up with clever mnemonics.
At four thirty, I drained my third cup of coffee. I knew the material, but I’d been overconfident about answering the multiple-choice questions. “I feel like I’m doing much better now. I’ll probably go ahead and schedule my second attempt, I’m so grateful to Dr. Turner for this study program.”
At the mention of Dr. Turner, Nick paused, his cup of coffee halfway to his mouth. He sighed and set it back down on the table.
“Leisel, we still need to talk,” he said, his fingers gripping the handle of the mug. “I have to tell you—”
“I need to get back to the farm.” I didn’t meet his gaze. I couldn’t think about our future until I’d taken the test again. And I certainly didn’t want to hear another pitch from him on why it would be a good idea for him to join the military.
As we approached the farm, a man I didn’t recognize was sitting with Mamm, Aenti Suz, and Caden on the porch. As Nick and I walked up the steps, the man stood. When my nephew saw Nick, he started waving with gusto.
“This is David,” Aenti Suz said. “He surprised us.”
We all shook hands. David’s eyes sparkled as he told me he’d heard all about me. “All good things,” he quickly clarified. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
David seemed sweet and endearing. Why in the world had Aenti Suz ditched him? Perhaps this surprise visit would help her come to her senses and court him after all.
Aenti Suz turned toward me. “I have supper ready and Gordon will be home soon. You and Nick should go out this evening.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Nick said before I could respond.
I didn’t. I didn’t want one last chance to talk things through. But I didn’t feel as though I could turn down Aenti Suz’s offer.
“All right.” I turned to Nick. “Someplace casual though. I don’t have anything but jeans.”
We ended up at the Japanese restaurant where the different plates of sushi passed by on a conveyor belt. The first time I’d eaten there with Nick a few years ago, I was sure there was nothing in the world more different from Amish food than sushi. I still thought I was right about that. However, I’d grown to like it.
“I don’t remember you mentioning David before.” Nick grabbed a tuna roll off the belt.
As we ate, I told him about David, hoping to keep the conversation off us. Then about Aenti Suz’s boyfriend, Jake, who’d died in Vietnam. I explained that Jake hadn’t joined the Mennonite church and that Dat hadn’t joined the Amish church, but that they were both conscientious objectors and ended up going to Vietnam to work in a Mennonite clinic. Before I knew it, I was telling him about my grandfather going off to Chicago to work in a hospital during World War II.
“So, how would that be different from me joining the Air Force?”
I glanced down at my tiger roll. “My grandfather was forced to,” I said. “He didn’t have any choice.” It was an entirely different situation.
“Leisel, there’s something I have to tell you.”
I looked up.
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His root-beer-colored eyes appeared troubled. “I know you don’t want to talk about the future, but I can’t keep this from you any longer. I’ve put it off all day because I was trying to find the right time to tell you, but I’m being deceptive—and it’s killing me.”
My heart began to race. Had he cheated on me? That was one thing I’d never worried about. Not once.
“Nick, what are you talking about?”
“The Air Force.”
I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn’t have to worry about him being unfaithful. But then I was filled with absolute despair as his words sank in. My chopsticks clattered to the table. “You didn’t.”
He nodded. “I did. The recruiter said if I want my loans paid off, it was time to do it. I leave for officer training next week.”
After a silent ride home, Nick parked next to my car and turned toward me. “Leisel,” he said. “I’m sorry. I expected you’d be upset—but not this upset.”
I reached for the door handle.
“Where do we stand?” Nick asked.
Did I have to spell it out? I turned toward him. “We don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re done.” I opened the door.
“Wait.”
I could hear the tears in his voice and couldn’t bear to look at him. “I’m sorry.” I stepped down, keeping my eyes on the ground. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”
I hurried around the side of the house and then retreated to the pond, listening for Nick’s truck. Finally, he drove back up the lane.
It was the warmest summer evening yet, and the sun was just setting over the tops of the trees. The wavelengths of the light and the size of the particles in the atmosphere must have been optimal because it was gorgeous. Pink and orange with streaks of lavender. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the sky as the sun slipped behind the west end of the farm and the woods became a cluster of silhouettes. It was all so beautiful, but I found no joy in it. No miracles.
Jah, I wanted to wallow in self-pity, which Dat would have told me wasn’t adding anything to my own life. It was only taking away the joy I could share in the lives of those I loved.
I’d share in their joy tomorrow.
I chastised myself. Marie was battling cancer. I was only battling my pride. Well, that and my conscience. I couldn’t marry a military man.
I picked up a stone. How could he?! I attempted to skip it across the pond. Instead, it fell with a single splash and immediately sank. That was exactly how I felt. I picked up a bigger rock and hurled it into the pond.
Why would Nick betray me like that? It hurt deeply that he would go behind my back. It wasn’t as if we talked things through exhaustively like some couples did, but I had thought we were honest with each other. Granted, I hadn’t been willing to listen to him the last two months or so. I’d only wanted to focus on graduating . . . and then Marie . . . and then my boards. Perhaps I’d neglected him and his struggles with figuring out his future. Our future. But he shouldn’t have made such a life-changing decision when I wasn’t ready.
Someone called my name from the backyard. Aenti Suz. In the moment, I didn’t even want to speak with her.
She headed toward me. “When did you get back?”
“A few minutes ago,” I said. “Where’s David?”
Her voice was light. “Sitting on the porch with your Mamm. I think he plans to leave soon.” She grew more serious. “Where’s Nick?”
“Gone,” I answered.
“What’s the matter?”
“He’s joined the military,” I said, my voice flat. “He’s leaving in a week.”
“Oh dear.” She paused thoughtfully before saying, “Come have a cup of tea with me. Marie, Gordon, and Caden have already gone to bed. I’ll tell you more of your Dawdi’s story. That will take your mind off the present.”
Would it? I did want to hear more about my grandfather and his time during World War II, but contrary to Nick’s thinking, the two had nothing in common. Well, little in common. It then dawned on me that Dawdi Joe had joined the AFS as an ambulance driver partly to be near an army nurse.
But that was different. Nick was joining to help himself. I exhaled. That wasn’t true either. In his mind, he thought he’d be helping me too. But since I couldn’t marry him now, that was a moot point. Or was it?
Noticing my hesitation, Aenti Suz took my hand and I followed her back through the gate. “There, there,” she said as she held open the door to the Dawdi Haus. “Come on in. I think you’ll really enjoy the next part of the story.”
14
Joe
Even though the sun shone every day and the weather was hot and humid, Joe’s life seemed dreary and gray after Lt. Shaw and the others relocated to Fort Drum for training. On all of his shifts, Joe had to put up with Karcher, who was more sullen than ever. The man targeted Joe, challenging him on several decisions he’d made while caring for patients, and a couple of times he even wrote Joe up for insubordination.
Thankfully, Joe still had Ali, with whom he spent most of his free time. One day as they walked along the lake, Ali said, “Boy, you really have it bad.”
Joe stopped, pretending to be watching a sailboat on the water as he realized he’d been lost in thoughts about Lt. Shaw. “What are you talking about?”
“Love,” the man answered.
Joe shook his head. “I’m just restless, is all.”
Ali laughed and slapped him on the back.
Joe had received three letters from Lt. Shaw filled with details about their training. It turns out I’m an expert marksman, she wrote. Who would have guessed? They also had long marches in the woods. And field hospital exercises. How are you doing? I’ve been praying that you won’t get orders. . . . I know that’s not what you want, but it’s what I want for you. I haven’t changed my mind. She signed each letter, Your friend . . . Friend. That’s all he could hope for. He’d be satisfied with that, as best he could.
Day after day, Joe expected his orders and a train ticket. But nothing arrived. By late August, as the entire city sweltered, he feared they never would.
He, along with all Americans, breathed a collective sigh of relief as the French forces and US Infantry Divisions liberated Paris after more than four years under Nazi rule. Joe wondered if the war would soon be over. Perhaps Lt. Shaw wouldn’t go to Europe after all. Perhaps he wouldn’t either.
But then, in early September, Joe had a fourth letter from Lt. Shaw. She said she was doing fine, that she was enjoying the crisp fall nights, and that what we expected will happen soon.
He knew she couldn’t write that she would soon ship out or tell him where she was going, but it was her way of communicating she would soon be leaving. She concluded the letter by writing, The days I spent with you in Chicago were the happiest of my life. I hope we will meet again.
He slipped the paper back into the envelope. He hoped so too.
In late September, when Joe had practically given up hope that he’d ever get orders, he pulled a letter from his Dat and an envelope from the AFS out of his mail slot. He opened the missive from the AFS first. In it were his orders to drive an ambulance for a British division in France, along with a ticket to New York and documents for passage on a ship to England. He’d leave on a train in three days.
Next, he opened the letter from his father, written in response to Joe’s letter explaining that he’d been accepted by the AFS. His Dat wrote, Forgive me for taking so long to answer your letter. I’ve been mulling over what to write. I fear your pride has gotten the best of you. Don’t think you can save the world. Only our Lord and Savior can do that.
A hollow feeling grew within Joe’s stomach as he read. But I appreciate your determination and your honesty in telling me. You could have hidden your intentions. I appreciate your respecting me enough to reveal your plan. I know God can keep you in the States, if He so desires. As always, I’m praying for His will for your life.
Joe ha
ted to disappoint his father, yet he appreciated Dat’s honesty too. He sat down immediately to write his father again, giving him the details he’d promised in his last letter. Once he outlined the plan, he added, I hope I can serve the soldiers better in France than Chicago. So many of the men I’ve cared for have stories of fellow soldiers who died in the field because there weren’t enough ambulances. I pray I can make some sort of a difference. Of course, he didn’t tell his father that he hoped he could find Lt. Shaw in France too.
He put his father’s letter in his pack, although he would mail the other ones from his family home for Charity to keep safe. The letter was a reminder that his Dat knew him better than he knew himself—and loved him anyway. But hopefully only God knew his secondary motivation was to be as close to Lt. Shaw as possible. Well, Ali most likely suspected that too. And Captain Russell. Joe couldn’t help but smile.
When word got around that Joe was heading to Europe, Karcher confronted him on the ward on Joe’s last day of work. “You’re good for nothing, Bachmann,” he said. “Wait until you get on the front—you’ll be crying to return to your Dutchy ways.” Obviously Karcher, who wanted to go to Europe, resented that Joe would soon be on his way.
For a moment, Joe felt as if he were fourteen again, watching the slash pile burn out of control. But then he squared his shoulders, stared the man in the eyes, and remained silent.
Karcher quickly grew flustered. “Get out of my sight,” he bellowed.
Joe continued to stare him down. He’d done nothing wrong. He wouldn’t be intimidated.
It seemed Karcher had had enough because he lunged at Joe, pushing him with both hands. Joe stumbled backward an inch but held his ground. A new doc on the floor, a major, yelled, “Lt. Karcher, I’ve been watching you this entire time. Stand down. Now.”
Joe breathed a sigh of relief and left the floor.
When Joe arrived in New York, he hoped, by some miracle, that Lt. Shaw would be on the same ship. But she wasn’t. He crossed the Atlantic in early October. The ship was full of soldiers. There weren’t any nurses or other women on board. Everyone worked, except for those who were too ill to do so. Thankfully, Joe wasn’t seasick after the first couple of days. He was put on mess hall duty and slept on the floor, wrapped in a blanket. He worked from morning to night, washing dishes, cleaning tables, and sweeping the floor.