by Leslie Gould
Of course, the service was much different from what Joe was used to. There was no two-hour sermon beforehand. At Joe’s request, Chaplain Higdon read from 1 Corinthians 13: “And now abideth faith, hope, charity . . .” It was a nod to his family. Joe hoped they would be gracious to him when they found out what he’d done.
Then the chaplain had Joe repeat the vows. “I, Joe, take thee, Martha, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my faith and myself to you.”
The vows were different from an Amish wedding, but it didn’t matter. The meaning was the same.
15
Leisel
Wait.” I scooted forward on the couch. “Lt. Shaw’s first name was Martha? That was Mammi’s name.”
Aenti Suz nodded.
I gasped. “Was Lt. Shaw your mother?”
Aenti Suz smiled. “You have to hear the rest of the story to find out.”
Flabbergasted, I said, “Why didn’t you mention that her first name was Martha at the beginning of the story?”
“He didn’t call her Martha until after they married. There was no reason to introduce her that way.”
“But what happened after that? It’s only the end of January in 1945. There’s still over three months left of the war. What happened? I mean, obviously Dawdi Joe ended up returning to Lancaster County and joining the church. Did Lt. Shaw come with him?”
Aenti Suz started to yawn and covered her mouth. Then she said, “Caden will be up early.”
“I’ll get up with him,” I said. “You sleep in. You have to tell me the rest.”
She shook her head. “I’m going to contact the man who runs the website about taking some photos of this place tomorrow.”
She’d successfully distracted me. “Even without Arden’s blessing?”
She shrugged. “I think the math will convince him. He’s looked into selling the herd, but it would be at a huge loss.”
No doubt farming was full of risks. So was war.
Giving up any chance of hearing more of Dawdi Joe’s story, I followed Aenti Suz into the kitchen to wash our mugs, feeling a little better until I remembered Nick and the pain he’d caused me. After Aenti Suz retreated to her room, I knelt beside the couch to pray. But once again, no words formed. If only I could let tomorrow worry about itself.
I stayed awake late into the night, tossing and turning. Thinking of Dawdi Joe made my heart ache. I thought I’d had that sort of love, but obviously I didn’t. Here my grandfather had married an army officer, while I’d just lost the love of my life to the military. The irony cut to my heart.
Then again, I didn’t know how his story ended. Perhaps he regretted his rash decision. Perhaps something unexpected happened.
On Saturday morning, I awoke to Caden’s cries and a hollowness in my soul. Gordon had him out of bed before I managed to get off the couch. He said he planned to go help his mother with her kitchen and would take Caden with him. I wasn’t sure how much he’d get done with a toddler in tow, but I decided not to point that out and use the free time to go back to the coffee shop and study.
However, I had a hard time concentrating. Nick had joined the Air Force without telling me. In the end, I hadn’t mattered enough to him. I felt a pressure in my chest. Shortness of breath. Sweating. So much for thinking I’d soon feel numb.
My Hatz was breaking. Funny that I thought of the word heart in Pennsylvania Dutch instead of English. But it was more than my heart. The core of me was breaking. There had to be a cure for this, just like there was in medicine. Being the nurse that I was, or that I hoped to be, I Googled what to do about a broken heart. Appreciate your independence. Detach from your ex-partner. Laugh when you can. Help someone else.
Sure, it was all good advice, but I was too heartbroken to even comprehend it. Nick knew how I felt about the military long ago. If he joined, regardless of my feelings, then he didn’t care about me the way he said he did. We didn’t share the same vision for the future.
That evening, Marie insisted she wanted to go to church the next morning before she started chemo, afraid she might feel poorly and not be able to go for the next several weeks.
I said I’d go with them and look after Caden in the nursery, if needed. Marie loaned me a dress of hers that I could wear with a pair of sandals. Many of the women at Gordon and Marie’s church wore Kappa, but not all of them. I figured I wouldn’t stand out too badly.
And I didn’t. Caden ended up being fine in the nursery, so I stayed in the service the entire time, sitting next to Marie and Gordon in the very back row. We planned to leave as soon as possible to keep Marie from being exposed to unnecessary germs. My mind kept wandering during the service. First to my Dawdi Joe’s story. And then to Martha. Whether she was related to me or not, she’d grown up Anabaptist and had then joined the army. Of course, from there my thoughts landed on Nick.
When the service was over, we left as quickly as possible. Gordon headed to the nursery to get Caden while Marie and I started for the car. Ahead of us was a man checking his phone.
“That’s Dr. Turner,” Marie said.
“Are you sure?”
“Jah,” she answered.
The man stopped at a Honda Accord. A nice car, but not flashy by any means.
“Hello,” Marie called out.
He turned. “Marie,” he said. Then he saw me and smiled broadly. “Leisel.” He quickly directed his focus back on my sister. “How are you feeling?”
“All right. I wanted to come to church in case the chemo makes me sick and I have to miss for a while.”
“Good idea,” he said, turning back to me. “And how are you, Leisel?”
“Good,” I answered, wishing I could think of something more to say.
“How’s the studying going?” he asked.
“Really well.” If I don’t count yesterday. “The program has been a big help.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.”
Marie reached for my arm for support as she said, “I didn’t realize we attended the same church.”
“We don’t,” he said. “This is my first time here. Meeting the two of you inspired me to start looking for a home church.” He smiled kindly.
“Well, that’s wonderful,” Marie answered. “What did you think?”
“I liked the service,” he answered. “It’s similar to the church I grew up in.” He held up his phone. “I need to get going. I’m just glad I was able to sit through the service.”
“Have a good rest of your day.” By the way Marie clutched my arm, I could tell she was tired. As we walked toward the car, I glanced over my shoulder and watched Dr. Turner drive out of the parking lot. It felt serendipitous that he’d attended Marie and Gordon’s church the same day that I had.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Marie said.
“What do you mean?”
“About Dr. Turner. You and Nick are perfect together.”
I hadn’t told her about our falling out, but I did now.
She shook her head stubbornly. “Well, that doesn’t mean the two of you are finished.”
“No, it does,” I said. “What he did is a deal breaker for me.”
Marie leaned against the car. “You know, you’re so empathetic and understanding toward everyone but Nick.”
“What?”
She nodded. “Have you looked at this from his point of view?”
“Jah,” I answered. “I have. He wants to have someone else pay his student loans. I get that. But he put finances first.”
“And do you think, just maybe, you’re putting your ideology before him?”
“My ideology?”
She nodded.
“To not support war? It’s kind of a biggie.”
“But Nick’s your best friend. Your soul mate. You think that’s easy to find, but it’s not. You
should try to work things out with him.”
I crossed my arms. I certainly didn’t think a soul mate was easy to find. Perhaps I’d never find another one in my entire life. “Marie,” I said. “You don’t know the whole story. I told him how I felt about the military and he joined anyway.”
“Did you really tell him? Explicitly? Or did you do it in that way of yours where you tiptoe around the conflict?”
I inhaled sharply.
Gordon approached, carrying Caden, who started chanting, “Mamamamama.” Obviously our conversation had ended. Hopefully for good.
On Monday morning, Gordon took Marie to her first chemo appointment while I drove to Pittsburgh to clean out my apartment. I didn’t bother to let Nick know I was in town. It didn’t take me long to pack the rest of my things, clean the bathroom and kitchen, and dust and vacuum the rest of the place.
After I hauled my cleaning supplies to my car, I stood in the doorway and looked around one last time. Regardless of its size and musty smell, the apartment had served me well. An important chapter of my life was ending.
Before I left Pittsburgh, I stopped by the care facility to talk with Rita. The conversation with Mr. Weber’s daughter still haunted me, even though I hadn’t heard anything more from her. I expected that if she really planned to sue me, Rita would know.
“Leisel,” she called out as I stopped in the doorway to her office. “I hope you want your job back.”
“Nope.” I smiled. After I asked how she was doing, I asked if she’d heard from Mr. Weber’s daughter lately.
“Oh, that,” she said. “She told me she talked with you. I should have given you an update.” She motioned toward the chair in front of her desk and I sat down. “I doubt she would have pursued a lawsuit, but once I explained all of the rules and regulations to her, she backed off.”
“Oh.” I’d been worried about it for no reason.
“This happens more than you’d think,” Rita said. “Families have a really hard time after a loved one dies. They want to blame someone, want it to be someone’s fault. For some reason, it seems to help them in their grief. Takes their thoughts off of who they lost.”
“Weird.” That certainly wasn’t the way the Amish handled death. “But,” I said, “the morning Mr. Weber died, you seemed to be suspicious of my actions too, because I hadn’t charted the incident yet. That wasn’t uncommon. We all would chart after our shift had ended when we needed to.”
“Oh goodness,” she said lightly. “I was probably just cranky that morning.” She held up her coffee cup. “Maybe I hadn’t had enough caffeine.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, and then I left. I should have felt better, but instead I felt even more defeated. I’d really cared about Mr. Weber. His death seemed to be the start of my decline—the beginning of my disappearing confidence.
As I drove east, I didn’t stop at the diner for coffee. I drove right past the exit and stopped farther along the route. There was no reason to remind myself of another one of my failures.
When I reached the farm, it was late in the evening, but I began unpacking my car anyway. I headed to the barn with the first load, deciding I’d leave everything but my clothes in the storage room in the back, where I’d already stashed my kitchen supplies.
As I pushed open the door, I heard voices. “Hallo,” I called out.
“Aenti Leisel?” It was Milton. He stepped out of a stall, Luke beside him. “Dat told us to give one of the new calves another bottle. She hasn’t been gaining enough weight.”
“What are you doing?” Luke asked.
“Unloading my car,” I answered.
Milton ran his hand through his hair. He was seventeen, not much younger than Dawdi Joe had been when he married. “Are you moving back?”
“Jah.”
Luke stepped forward. “Do you plan to join the church, then?”
“Probably not,” I answered. “I’m more likely to become a Mennonite.”
He frowned.
I headed on down to the storeroom, stashed my things, and returned to my car for another load. When I opened the door, I heard my phone chime with a voicemail. If it was Nick, I had nothing to say. But when I glanced at the phone, I saw it was an unknown number.
After I’d finished unloading my car, I sat on the Dawdi House steps and listened to the message. “Hi, Leisel, this is Stephen Turner. Dr. Turner. Would you please call me back? I have a question for you.” I quickly programmed his number into my phone.
It was after nine, so I decided to wait and call him in the morning, just in case he was already asleep. Surely, his question was about something in the area, or perhaps a question about the Mennonite church, which I wouldn’t be able to answer anyway.
Again, I wished Nick was Mennonite. That would solve all of my problems.
After I had Caden changed and fed the next morning, we headed out to the sandbox. Then I left a cheery message for Dr. Turner and told him to call back anytime. I didn’t tell him I wouldn’t be able to answer if I was around my mother or brother, but I could always call him back. Phone tag is what I think Autumn called it.
As Caden played, Marie joined us, sitting in a lawn chair. I headed to the garden to weed as Aenti Suz returned from an errand. She waved from her buggy as she headed toward the barn.
Twenty minutes later, she approached the garden. “Dan is coming over today to take photos.”
“Dan?”
“The website designer.”
“Oh,” I teased. “The two of you are on a first-name basis now?”
She smiled. “He’s such a nice young man. You’ll really like him.”
Dan turned out to be maybe twenty. He took numerous photos without hardly saying a word, but he seemed comfortable around Aenti Suz and complimented the Dawdi Haus, saying he thought it would get a lot of business.
“I’ll load everything tonight,” he said. “I’m guessing you’ll have the place booked by next weekend.”
That would be the third weekend of June. Tourist season would definitely be in full swing.
Dr. Turner—Stephen—called me back that evening as I was weeding. Heading toward the fence line, I answered the phone as I passed Marie, who was sitting near the garden while Gordon gave Caden his bath inside. She gave me a questioning look. Did she think it was Nick? Fat chance.
After inquiring about Marie, Dr. Turner asked if I’d like to get dinner with him Saturday evening.
Surprised, it took me a long moment to respond.
“Leisel?”
“I’m here.” I quickly added, “Sure. I’d like that.”
I said I could meet him in Lancaster, but he insisted on picking me up. A real date. I felt a twinge of something. Nick would be leaving for officer training any day. We’d broken up. Why did I feel guilty?
As I returned to the garden, my phone tucked away in the pocket of my sweatshirt, Arden approached Marie, saying he wanted to speak with Aenti Suz. “I’ll get her,” Marie said.
When Aenti Suz appeared, Arden met her on the porch.
“I’ve thought more about you renting out the Dawdi Haus,” he said. “And I’ve asked around. It appears you could make enough money to make it worth it.”
Aenti Suz nodded. “That’s what I’ve discovered too.”
Arden tugged on his beard. “I just wanted you to know you have my blessing.”
I stifled a laugh, but Aenti Suz didn’t give anything away. “Well, thank you. I really appreciate your change of heart. Of course, I won’t rent it out until Marie is ready to go home.”
Arden scowled. “I was surprised to still find her here. Didn’t Bishop Jacobs talk with you?”
Aenti Suz smiled sweetly. “He did. Thank you for checking.”
“And?”
“We’ll be talking again soon, I’m sure.”
As Arden turned, I dropped my head and lunged for a weed between the rows of peas. He marched by without acknowledging me.
At dusk, a buggy came around the big ho
use. Bishop Jacobs. I shook my head. It wasn’t a coincidence. When Arden left the Dawdi Haus, he must have gone to the barn.
Aenti Suz came out of the Dawdi Haus when she heard the buggy and met the bishop over at the hitching post.
Determined not to eavesdrop again, I headed into the Dawdi Haus, but Gordon and Marie were cuddling on the couch with Caden. I didn’t want to intrude, so I headed back outside and collected the gardening tools, taking them to the shed. When I stepped out of the shed, I was surprised to find that Marie was approaching Bishop Jacobs and Aenti Suz.
“How is Elijah?” she asked. She dated the bishop’s son for a time, and the Jacobses had hoped the two would marry.
“He’s all right,” the bishop answered. “Last we heard, he was living down in Miami.” That was a long ways from home, or even from Pinecraft. “Listen,” the man said. “I’ve been thinking about you staying with Suz. Now, I was wrong to blame you for Elijah not joining the church, but I don’t believe I’m wrong for not allowing you to stay here. In fact, I’ve been too lenient. I should have put a stop to it a month ago.”
“We’re leaving,” Marie said. “In a few days.”
I gasped. Why hadn’t she told me?
Bishop Jacobs seemed relieved but not happy. He tipped his hat. “I guess I’m done here then.”
“I guess you are.” Aenti Suz turned back toward the house without telling him good-bye.
Marie walked beside her, and I jogged to catch up. “Who’s going to help with Caden?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but there are a few girls I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Marie . . .” I didn’t want her to leave.
“We need to get back to our home.” She put one arm around Aenti Suz and the other around me. “You two have been so good to me. Gordon and I both appreciate everything you’ve done, but it’s time.”
“I can come help at your apartment,” I said.
“How about if you drive me to chemo once a week and study the rest of the time?” she countered. “I don’t want it to be my fault if you fail again.”
“Listen.” I knew I sounded as if I were joking, even though I wasn’t. “If I fail again, I’ll take it as a sign from God that He doesn’t want me to be a nurse.” I added, “Maybe I’m meant to join the Amish.”