Fraying at the Edge

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Fraying at the Edge Page 13

by Cindy Woodsmall


  Across the backyard near the fence line to the pasture, he saw a shadow moving briskly. Despite the stiff movements that made Skylar look angrier than usual, he remained on the steps, trying to be calm. She stopped in front of him and lifted her eyebrows. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He had to come up with something better than that if he expected a conversation.

  “Good.” She climbed a couple of steps and tried to go around him.

  He didn’t budge. “Wait.”

  She stepped back down. “Can I help you?”

  A rush of embarrassment spread over Abram’s face as he tried to gather his thoughts. “This is the second night you’ve left the house.”

  She put a hand on her hip, staring at him. “Are you spying on me?”

  “What? No. I just noticed, that’s all.”

  “You noticed, but you aren’t spying.” She sounded condescending, and it made him miss Ariana even more. Of all his sisters she was the nicest.

  Abram steadied his nerves. “I just wanted to make sure everything was all right.”

  “So that’s why you’re waiting here?”

  “Could you stop answering everything with a question? You aren’t defending yourself to Mamm and Daed, and I’m not accusing you of anything.” Abram was surprised at his tone. He sounded assertive, but Skylar seemed to relax.

  She propped a foot on a stair. “Maybe not tonight, but you’ll tell them.”

  “I know you aren’t accustomed to this whole brother-sister thing. Trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

  She laughed as if Abram had said something funny. “You think we’re brother and sister?”

  It felt weird, but he said, “Yes.”

  “I’m not interested in being anyone’s sister.”

  He did his best not to flinch, but it hurt. He wasn’t all that interested in being her brother, but they were twins nonetheless. “That’s fine. I just don’t want you to walk out one evening and never come back.”

  “I’m not a child. I’m twenty, and I can do what I want.”

  Abram nodded. “I know your age. We were born minutes apart, remember? And, ya, you can do what you want. But if you do, then Ariana’s leaving will be meaningless.”

  “Everyone around here seems keen on making Ariana happy.”

  Was she envious? Maybe her behavior had more to do with feeling insecure than just being irritable. “Leaving was really hard on her, just like being here has been hard on you. We care about her and you both.”

  “You care about her and just threw me into the mix to be nice.”

  “Being nice because someone is related is part of what it means to be family. Another part is trying to be supportive and honest.” He scooted over in case Skylar wanted to sit. “I start full time at the café on Monday.” Why had he told her that? She didn’t care. But he’d turned in his notice Thursday morning and told them he’d finish out the week. Susie and Martha couldn’t keep things going at the café while he worked out a two-week notice. Every customer who left dissatisfied was one more person who wouldn’t return and one more person to spread the word that the café wasn’t worth going to. Besides, there were plenty of skilled Amish men waiting to take Abram’s place.

  Skylar pulled her cigarettes from a pocket. She paused, looking at Abram. “You sure about confidentiality between siblings?”

  He smiled. “Between us, I’m sure. You smoke in front of Martha or John, and they’ll tattle before you get it to your lips.”

  “Good to know.” She lit a cigarette and breathed in heavily. “You showed me how to pour coffee.”

  “What?”

  She shifted, leaning against a post and looking up at the stars. “A few days ago when we were at the kitchen table, you showed me how to pour coffee as if I was too stupid to know how to do it.”

  Was that how he’d come across? “I didn’t mean it that way.” He needed to tell her the truth. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not too good at communicating.”

  “Anyone over the age of seven doesn’t need to be shown how to pour coffee.”

  “I know. I’m just trying.”

  “Trying what? To be annoying?”

  Abram watched Skylar’s smoke disappear into the black night. “Trying to have a conversation with you. Could be about pouring coffee or about the weather. Anything to stop the silence between us.”

  She held out her cigarette to Abram.

  He shook his head. “I don’t smoke. I’ve never tried it.”

  She gestured again for him to take the cigarette. He took it, put it to his lips, and sucked in. It felt as if something had caught in his throat, and he coughed as he handed the cigarette back to her. He gagged and spit on the ground. “That’s disgusting.”

  She laughed, looking at the cigarette as if she were seeing it for the first time. “You’re probably right.” She put the cigarette to her lips and inhaled. “But I’m hooked.”

  He didn’t know what to say, so they sat in silence until she finished her cigarette.

  “Do you still need help with the café?”

  Ariana pulled the pillow and covers off her head, stretched from the fetal position, and put her feet on the floor. Spending most of Sunday morning wallowing in remorse and regret wasn’t helping. She had to pull herself together.

  She reached toward the nightstand and ran her hand across her tattered Bible. Some witness for God she’d turned out to be. She pulled the Bible into her lap and opened it, feeling the thin, delicate pages before skimming a few passages. It was no coincidence that the Word fell open to Luke, and her eyes immediately connected with the passage “Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned: forgive, and ye shall be forgiven.”

  “Sounds great, God,” she muttered. “And I mean no disrespect, but how? I have no idea how to stop judging. Apparently I would fare just as well if You told me to stop longing for home. How?”

  A clinking sound pulled her from her reading. Was a bird pecking on the glass? She set the Bible back in place, put on her housecoat, and walked to the french doors that opened onto a balcony. She peered out. There weren’t any birds tapping.

  She turned and went to her closet and heard the noise again. Something was definitely hitting the glass on the doors. She unlocked the balcony doors and stepped outside.

  Something tiny and sharp struck her forehead. “Ouch,” she yelped.

  “Sorry.” Cameron’s eyes were large with an oh-no look, but she laughed and held up a straw-type thing. A horn tooted, and she looked at the car waiting by the curb and held up one finger before turning back to the balcony. “I guess slinging rocks at you when you’re at Brandi’s isn’t sufficient. I felt it necessary to travel across town to bring my game to Nicholas’s.”

  A hint of mirth stirred deep inside Ariana, as if it were waking from a long winter of sleep. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” Cameron grinned, looking free of embarrassment or resentment over their argument yesterday. It was pretty cool outside, but the girl just had on shorts and a thin, baggy jacket over a T-shirt.

  Ariana wasn’t sure how to feel about Cameron, but she liked the girl’s fearlessness in being herself and not taking life too seriously. Ariana could use a dip in that pool.

  Cameron held up the peashooter. “I really am sorry for hitting you just now. I found it funny because if I spent all day trying to smack you with a pebble, I couldn’t do it again.” She shoved the peashooter into her pocket. “I only have a minute, so let me say what I need to say.”

  “You’re going to throw pebbles at me just to talk to me from there?”

  “Yes, it’s all very Romeo and Juliet of me.”

  “And look how well that story ended.”

  “True.” Cameron laughed. “I don’t need to say much, and I’m not knocking on Nicholas’s door for anybody.”

  In this moment Cameron reminded Ariana of her younger sisters. She had Susie’s pluck and wit, and although Cameron looked and sounded older, sh
e was the same age as Martha. Because of those things, Ariana wasn’t letting Cameron go as easily as she’d hoped. “Yes, we need to talk.”

  “Not really.” Cameron glanced back at the car. “I was wrong to make fun of you and think it would go over your head. You were right to call me on it. The end.”

  That was it? Ariana heard no remorse whatsoever. “Why, Cameron?”

  “Why what? Why am I standing here and apologizing for something I did wrong?” She held both hands out, palms up. “Because Dad said it had to be face to face before I could meet my friends at the park for a game of extreme Frisbee. I’ve done it now, so—”

  “Why would you make fun of me in front of your friends? I can tell you exactly why I screamed at you and why I shouldn’t have.”

  “I don’t know.” Cameron scoffed. “Because you were an easy target?”

  “So that’s what you do to everyone who’s an easy target?”

  “What? No.” Cameron’s carefree and dismissive attitude disappeared. “Okay, okay. If we’re going to do this, could you come down from your ivory tower?”

  “Give me two minutes, and I’ll let you in.”

  “Are you hard of hearing as well as technologically impaired? I’m not coming into Nicholas’s house.”

  It sounded as if a door below Ariana had swooshed open. “Cameron?” Nicholas’s voice was matter-of-fact, and the humor of it skittered through Ariana.

  Cameron backed up as Nicholas stepped onto the front lawn.

  He looked up at Ariana and then at Cameron. “Ladies, is there no cell phone service? Did an apocalypse take place and you’re unable to text each other?”

  Cameron dug her hands into her shorts pocket. “I needed to talk to her.”

  Nicholas gestured toward the front door. “I’m sure the neighbors would like a quieter approach on their Sunday morning.”

  “Really?” Cameron asked Ariana. “You can’t just accept an apology and let me go?”

  It wasn’t what Ariana wanted, but she would free her. “Go.” Ariana gestured toward the car.

  “Wait.” Cameron studied her for a moment. “I know how this works. You say go, but then you’ll tell Brandi I did a drive-by smoothing, and Dad will ground me.”

  Before Ariana could respond, Cameron pursed her lips and walked to the car waiting at the curb. While she talked to someone in the vehicle, Nicholas studied Ariana, and his face held parental concern. He had dark circles under his eyes, and she wished she could redo yesterday and respond with grace. He turned his focus to the cell in his hand and began tapping on the screen.

  Ariana remained in place, watching her dad. She no longer needed to ask herself what was wrong with her. After a fitful night of drunken sleep, it was very clear—she was like those she judged. Regardless of her knowing right from wrong, shortcomings of many kinds easily entangled her. They might not be the shortcomings others had, but, nonetheless, they were a part of her, and they were strong. Her disappointment in others caused her to hurt them, and that wasn’t at all Christlike. The perfect One didn’t throw stones at sinners or those who’d hurt Him—although she’d like to know how He’d managed that.

  Still, no matter what she saw or understood, it wouldn’t stop her personal struggles with this mess. It wouldn’t end the grief of losing a family that wasn’t hers or help her love the family that was hers. But for now she saw her dim reflection in a mirror instead of the sins of others. She understood more today, her grief and offense were milder, and she was more ready to repent than accuse.

  The cell phone in her housecoat pocket pinged, and Nicholas looked up again. She knew the message would be from him, and she pulled out her phone and read it.

  Tears welled. The words reminded her of what Quill had said about her value to him and his family, and Ariana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Would God want them to undo the affair? She wouldn’t be here without it. Did she want them to undo the affair? Seems as if she should because of the sin, but the whole situation left her miserably confused. What had happened to her black-and-white world?

  She needed to talk to Quill. If anyone could make sense of her thoughts, he could. Even if he viewed her similar to how Nicholas did, Quill had gone out of his way last night to get to her and to protect her from herself. She needed to apologize and thank him.

  She wiped her eyes, looked up from the text, and smiled at Nicholas. “Thank you.”

  His taut body seemed to relax.

  Then she texted:

  Nicholas read it and nodded, a faltering smile slowly forming on his lips. “Me too, Ari,” he said.

  Cameron walked toward the house, waving at the vehicle as it drove off. Nicholas gestured from her to the front door, and while they ambled in that direction, Ariana hurried inside to brush her teeth and hair and change. But she stopped cold when she saw an envelope under the door. She picked it up and opened it. Inside was the bucket list with a note on top.

  Let’s rethink this bucket list. If you don’t want to do anything on it, I accept that. If you’re willing to do the ones I’ve highlighted, I’ll be very grateful, so much so I’m willing to reward you with various types of contact with family and friends.

  Her heart jolted, and she pulled the papers to her chest. Denki. She breathed the prayer and glanced at the highlighted sections. Relief surged. Mostly he was asking her for reasonable things—to make an Englisch friend, to work in a typically male job for at least a day, to travel some with him, and a few other things.

  No more reading books by atheists? Gratefulness hit so hard her knees were shaking. She could do this…at least enough to earn a visit with Rudy. She shoved the papers into the pocket of her housecoat as she hurried into the bathroom. By the time she brushed her teeth, there was a knock on her door.

  When she opened it, Cameron wasted no time sliding into the room and closing the door. “That’s the most time I’ve ever spent with Nicholas in my whole life.” She opened her eyes wide and clutched her chest.

  “Seems as if Nicholas rattles you.”

  “Ya think? For years I’ve watched Skylar come here for a weekend and return home an emotional wreck.”

  Skylar…Rather than Ariana being angry with God or doubting Him or feeling sorry for herself because she was pulled from a life she loved, maybe she should be on her knees thanking Him that she had twenty years with the Brennemans. Otherwise, she wouldn’t even know them. Or Rudy.

  “Hello?” Cameron waved a hand in front of Ariana. “You there, Giselle?”

  “Oh, sorry. So tell me, all your jabs and poking fun—have I done something to offend you?”

  Cameron sat on the bed and stared at her tennis shoes, tapping her feet against the thick carpet. “No. I was just teasing and having some fun. And I’m really sorry for it.”

  Ariana had no choice but to accept her apology, but she felt sure there was more to it than Cameron was admitting.

  Cameron leaned back on her elbows. “Your turn.”

  “Okay.” Ariana pulled one of the new dresses out of a shopping bag to remove the tags. She was weary of being down and serious. “I’m sorry you did things that made me yell at you.” She kept a straight face while going to the dresser and getting a pair of scissors.

  “See that right there.” Cameron pointed at her, chuckling. “That sounded just like Brandi. You barely know her, but even some of your gestures look like hers.”

  “Do they?” That was a little alarming, but she had to identify with more than just the Brennemans as family now. “I’m not doing much better with Brandi than I am with Nicholas.”

  “Blended families take time to bond. You’ve been here a week. I have plates of food under my bed that are older than that.”

  Ariana reached into her pocket, feeling the bucket list. “I could use a friend.”

  Cameron opened a drawer in the nightstand and searched it. “Should we get a piece of paper and a crayon and write ‘Will you be my friend?’ and put a box above yes and one above no? You could slip it
to me during recess.”

  “If it makes you feel better. But to be really honest, I mean I could really use a friend.”

  “You want to use me? Are you sure you’re not related to me?”

  Ariana plunked beside her. “I’m not even sure I’m related to me.”

  Cameron laughed. “You’re not nearly as dull as I thought.”

  “Thanks.”

  How did one cope with the depth of pain of knowing her life had been a mistake of catastrophic proportions? Her Amish parents had considered her a gift from God, and yet the reality was her existence had wrecked lives. What would Rudy think of her newly discovered status—illegitimate?

  “Hey, Giselle?”

  “Hmm?” Ariana came back to the present. “Who is this Giselle? Is she a friend of yours?”

  Cameron buried her face in her hands and laughed. “Okay, you win. You have to have someone who knows the ropes to help you. Stick with me, kiddo. I’ll have you speaking the English lingo in no time flat.” Cameron used one thumbnail to click the other one over and over again. “Giselle is a clueless, innocent klutz in the children’s movie Enchanted.”

  “For children? That doesn’t sound so bad. I’m supposed to watch a few movies.” She didn’t have to, and that posed a new issue. Was she selling out her faith in order to see Rudy? “Could that be one?”

  “Sure. I have a boatload of movies we can watch.”

  “I appreciate that, and I’ll make some desserts and snacks.”

  “I heard you bought a café and can really bake. Can I watch you do some of your cooking magic? I don’t want to miss an opportunity to see you set off the smoke alarm while trying to flip on a light switch.”

  Ariana giggled. “I’d watch my step if I were you.”

  “Yeah, why? Do you plan to litter the floor with the appliances you can’t operate?”

  Ariana pushed her shoulder into Cameron’s. “You’re not the only smart-mouthed little sister I’ve had to deal with, so I have the upper hand.”

 

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