Home to Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  They walked out of the hospital, down silent hallways and out to the truck. Brad seemed in a daze when John pulled into the drive.

  Dawn was streaking the sky. It seemed unreal to John that a day was being born and Neil wouldn’t be in it. How many times had the older man come out to say hello as he worked in the barn?

  “He loved this place so much.” He sat there staring blindly through the windshield. “I wanted him to stay near me, but he wanted to be here with his horses.”

  He seemed to gather himself and opened the truck door. “Your girlfriend left some sticky buns on the porch earlier. You want to come up to the house and have some with some coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  So they sat in Neil’s kitchen and drank coffee made in the fancy coffeemaker he loved, and neither of them ate the buns.

  “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

  “Try is the operative word,” Brad said without enthusiasm.

  “Do you need to call a funeral home or anything? I know the ones in the area.”

  Brad shook his head. “Dad made prearrangements. That’s the good part of being a lawyer. You think of all that stuff when you’re in this line of work.” His face contorted. “He took me to the office all the time when I was a kid, made me fall in love with the law. I just wish I could have fallen in love with horses.” He looked at John. “Guess he had you for that. We’ll talk about it later,” he said cryptically. Then he left the room.

  John turned off the coffeemaker, put the cups in the dishwasher, and left, locking the door behind him. He mechanically went about the morning chores and then headed to his own place to get some sleep.

  When he woke it was late afternoon. He lay there for a few minutes, feeling disoriented at finding himself in bed when the light was different than morning. And then he remembered, and grief swept over him again.

  Guilt came in a wave right after it. Would he feel the same if it had been his dat who’d died? Not that long ago he’d been in treatment for the cancer, and that had been a real possibility. But John hadn’t been able to get past his anger at his dat to reconcile with him the way his bruders had.

  He knew the blame wasn’t all his. Each time the two of them were in the same room, he still felt his dat picked at him.

  Feeling older than his years, he sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood. He’d told Rose Anna he’d see her today, and he supposed he should go by and at least tell her about Neil and beg off eating supper with her and her family. And it seemed to him that he should see if there was something he could do for Neil’s son.

  Neil would want that.

  So he showered, dressed, and drove over to Rose Anna’s haus.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said when he told her. She put her arms around him, and it helped. And then she told him that she agreed, that he should go sit with Brad and see if there was anything he could do for him.

  Before he left, she insisted that she put together some food for them. When Brad opened the door, he looked surprised to see him. “Rose Anna fixed something for us to eat. We don’t have to eat together if you’d rather be alone.”

  Brad held the door open. “No, come inside.” He sat at the table and watched John unpack the containers in the tote bag Rose Anna had given him.

  “She’s a very kind woman, isn’t she?”

  Surprised, John nodded.

  “Are you getting married?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not really in a position to do that.”

  “Why?”

  John remembered his conversation with Neil. “I don’t have a career like you. I probably don’t even have a job here anymore. I expect you’ll want to sell the place since you don’t like horses.” Then he stopped. “Of course, I’ll stay on as long as you need me. You don’t need to worry about your Dad’s horses or someone to take care of the place until you get a buyer.”

  Brad stared at him for so long he felt like a jerk bringing it up. Brad nodded, then picked up an envelope from the table. “I found your paycheck sitting here. You didn’t even ask if he’d left it.”

  “I didn’t even think about it.” Numbly he took it and remembered how Neil had looked for it. Had it only been yesterday? “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to have a memorial back in Philadelphia. That’s where most of Dad’s friends and associates are. I’ll let you know so you can come if you want.” He frowned into his coffee. “I’m picking up his ashes tomorrow from the funeral home. He told me once he wanted them scattered here on the farm.”

  “He’d be proud of you doing what he asked.”

  “It’s the last thing I can do for him.”

  John rose and got the coffeepot, refreshed their cups. “I think there’s one thing we can do for the people we love when they die. It’s to live and be happy and be grateful for the time we had with them.” He stopped. “Sorry. I don’t want to preach. You don’t need that.”

  Brad ran a hand through his hair and made the expensive Englisch cut stand on end. “No, I know Dad would hate us to sit around miserable.”

  Neither of them ate much. John opened the container of cookies Rose Anna packed, and Brad took one.

  Brad eyed the cookie. “Your girlfriend made these?”

  He nodded.

  “I found a container with a couple left in it when I opened the cabinet looking for coffee. There were other containers, too, empty ones.”

  “Neil liked her cookies. She didn’t use to be such a good baker, but she got a lot better this past year.”

  Brad hadn’t eaten much supper, but he ate two cookies. They put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and John insisted on leaving the leftover casserole in the refrigerator in case Brad got hungry later.

  “Guess I should be checking in with my office,” Brad said, but he seemed lethargic and just held his cell phone in his hand and stared at it.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  John left, sorry he couldn’t think of anything more he could do for Neil’s son.

  ***

  Rose Anna hurried outside when she heard John’s truck pull into the drive. She climbed into the truck.

  It hurt her heart that he tried to smile and couldn’t. She waited until he pulled out onto the road, and then she reached for his hand and held it.

  “How is Brad doing?”

  “Not gut.” He sighed heavily. “He feels guilty he didn’t stay with him that night at the hospital. But Neil and the staff told him to go home.”

  “He came when he was needed, so he shouldn’t feel that way.”

  “I told him that, but I don’t think he believes it.”

  “I wasn’t there when Grossmudder died, and I felt guilty, too.” She stared out the window. “Grossdaadi said that we never feel we have enough time with our loved ones. He’s right. Neil was what, in his late sixties? I’m schur Brad was hoping he’d have him longer, get to do things with him.”

  “I can tell he wishes he shared Neil’s love of horses and lived closer. But he told me his dat taught him to love the law, and he took over his practice.”

  He fell silent. The longer he didn’t say anything the more Rose Anna sensed something more was wrong.

  “What is it?”

  “It hit me yesterday that Brad won’t be staying.”

  “Well, of course, he’ll be going back to his job at the law firm.”

  John pulled into a parking lot and turned to her. “No, I mean I’m schur he’s going to put the farm up for sale. I’m going to be out of a job.”

  Shocked, she pressed her fingers to her lips and stared at him. “I hadn’t thought of that. Oh, nee, John! You’ve been so happy working with those horses!”

  “It’s selfish of me to even think of such a thing.”

  “Nee, don’t say that. Of course you’d be upset. You love the horses and the farm. It doesn’t mean you cared any less for Neil. He’d be sorry that you don’t want to lose your job there. What are you going to
do?”

  “I told Brad I’d continue taking care of things until he found a buyer. Maybe it’ll take a long time to find one.”

  “If only . . .”

  “What?”

  “If only you had the money to offer to buy it from him.”

  “You’re such a dreamer,” he said harshly.

  “John!”

  He hit his hand on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out the way I wanted.”

  She blinked furiously, trying to hold back her tears and rummaged in her purse for a tissue.

  “I know you meant well. But there’s no way.”

  “Maybe you could do what Sam and Mary Elizabeth are doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They talked to the owner of the farm they live on, and they pay her, not the bank.”

  He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. “The horse farm is bigger. It has the horses. I’m schur it’s way out of range for me.”

  “You don’t know what God has planned for you,” she told him. “You need to have faith in Him.” Her heart ached at how miserable he was, how he sounded without hope. “I know now’s not the right time to bring it up with Brad. But you should at least talk to him at some point. Otherwise you’ll never know if he might have agreed to what you want.”

  “True.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know. Where do you want to go?”

  “Someplace quiet. So we can talk.”

  He headed toward town. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not particularly. But you probably haven’t eaten.”

  “Not much,” he admitted.

  “Why don’t you pull in there and get some burgers and fries, and we’ll go somewhere and eat them in the truck?”

  “Allrecht.”

  They went through the drive-through and got the food and soft drinks. He drove to a secluded little park where they sat and watched the sun go down over a little pond. The sky was crowded with pinkish-orange clouds. “You’re not eating.”

  “Doesn’t taste as gut as I remember.”

  “Nothing does when we’re upset.”

  “True.”

  She tried to think of something to cheer him up and knew she was talking too much. Finally she lapsed into silence.

  John put the half-eaten hamburger and fries back into the paper sack and set it on the dashboard. She gave up on eating and did the same. “John?” she said and put her hand on his arm.

  He turned to her with a groan and pulled her toward him. She let him embrace her, sensed his utter need for comfort, and just held him. Then he turned to kiss her, and she knew she’d do anything to assuage this desperate void in him.

  Vaguely she remembered something Emma had said about being careful not to become intimate, that she’d be sorry later.

  She tried to pull back, and he resisted. “John, we can’t.”

  For a long moment she didn’t think he’d heard or that he wouldn’t stop kissing her and holding her too tightly.

  And then he released her, rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Everything feels so overwhelming right now.”

  She touched his cheek. “I know, Lieb. I know.” She hesitated then plunged ahead. “John, come to church with me this Sunday. Just come. Maybe it’ll help you sort through all this. It always helps me at difficult times. No one’s going to pressure you.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “I’ll get between them and you. I won’t let them,” she promised rashly.

  He took her hand and pressed a kiss in her palm. “That’s my Rose Anna.”

  “Just think about it.”

  “I will.” He turned away and started the truck.

  “Promise?”

  He looked at her for a long time. “I promise,” he said finally.

  Pleased, she sat back. They drove past the horse farm on the way back to her haus. Brad’s car was parked in the drive.

  “When’s the funeral?”

  “Brad’s going to have a memorial later, in Philadelphia. He said he’d let me know. He’s going to scatter his ashes on the farm tomorrow.”

  “I’ll bring some food over.”

  “That would be nice. Brad doesn’t seem in any shape to do any cooking for himself right now. He found a container of cookies you sent Neil and liked them. There were only two or three left.”

  “The chocolate chip? I’ll bring some more, then.”

  He pulled into the drive of her haus. “Rose Anna?”

  “Ya?”

  He stared straight ahead, not looking at her. “I love you.”

  Her heart soared. “I love you, too.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow when you come over.”

  “Gut nacht. Get some sleep.”

  He turned to her then. “Sweet dreams.”

  She hoped she’d dream of him, but she didn’t tell him that. She got out and went inside. And felt hope blooming inside her.

  18

  Rose Anna was up bright and early the next morning, cooking before her mudder got into the kitchen to fix breakfast.

  “Where’s your mudder?” her dat asked when he came in for coffee after his chores.

  “Right here,” she said as she walked into the room. “Rose Anna, you’re up early.”

  She set a platter of bacon and eggs on the table. “I’m making some food to take over to Brad.” She told them what John had said about his plans to scatter his dat’s ashes. “We’d take food after a funeral, so this is kind of the same thing. And he has no family or friends here.”

  “I’ll help you,” Linda said as she sat at the table. She glanced at the door to the dawdi haus. “Jacob, eat the bacon quickly. Grossdaadi really shouldn’t have any.”

  “Sorry, I forgot,” Rose Anna said. She sat and ate her breakfast quickly.

  “Take some bread over, and there’s a pound cake in the freezer. I put a ham in the refrigerator to thaw. You can bake that, and I’ll make something else for our supper. Then Brad and John will have leftovers for sandwiches.”

  Rose Anna glanced at her dat. He loved ham, but he didn’t ask if she was going to cut some off for him before she took it to the other men. He was a generous man for schur.

  “I’m baking some chocolate chip cookies. John said Brad found some I’d sent for his dat, and he liked them.” She frowned. “John said he doesn’t think Brad will keep the farm. Brad has a law practice in Philadelphia and doesn’t like horses.”

  “It won’t be hard to find a buyer,” Jacob said as he polished off another strip of bacon. “It could go to an Amish buyer or an Englisch one since it’s right at the edge of our community. Neil bought it when the Hostettler family put it up for sale. All an Amish family has to do is take out the electricity.”

  “John loves working there with the horses so much. I told him he should talk to Brad about buying it when the time is right. Do what Sam and Mary Elizabeth did—ask the owner to hold the loan.”

  “You’re a smart maedel,” her dat said with approval. “What did John say?”

  “He wasn’t very optimistic. I think he’s still too much in shock from Neil dying. He really cared for him.”

  She stopped, not schur she should voice her thoughts. “I think Neil became a real friend to him not just a boss. Maybe even a dat. He’s never said he was like a dat, but I saw them together when I went there one day,” she rushed to say. “That was my impression.”

  The oven timer dinged. She got up and took two trays of cookies from the oven. Without being asked she took a spatula, lifted two from the tray, then transferred them to a plate and set it before her parents.

  No one was surprised when the door to the dawdi haus opened and Abraham shuffled out sniffing the air.

  Rose Anna quickly checked the platter. Not a strip of bacon had been left on it. “Grossdaadi, I made scrambled eggs. And you can have a chocolate chip cookie still hot from the oven.”

  She finished
transferring the cookies to a rack to cool then set about spooning the remainder of the dough onto the trays and setting them into the oven.

  She loaded a big wicker basket into the buggy several hours later. John’s truck wasn’t in the drive of the horse farm, but she saw Brad’s car so she carried the basket to the farmhouse. Brad opened the door looking haggard and seemed surprised when she handed him the basket.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” he said as he took it.

  “John said you’re not eating much. I baked a ham, and there’s fresh bread and a pound cake. And the cookies your father liked.”

  “Dad told me his Amish neighbors made him feel at home here, but I thought he was exaggerating.” He put the basket on the kitchen table.

  That was when Rose Anna saw the urn she knew was used for cremated ashes. “Your dad was a wonderful man,” she said. “John said he spoke of you often, how proud he was of you.”

  “No one ever had a better father.”

  Rose Anna nodded. “He didn’t just care for his family. He was incredibly kind to John, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that. John’s father . . . is difficult.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But he was very, very different from Neil. All three of the Stoltzfus brothers left home because of their father.” She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. “I hope you’ll join us for supper some night before you go back home. Just stop by any evening. We eat kind of early—about five-thirty or six.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. I think I’ll be heading back home tomorrow.”

  “It’s been nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m so sorry it was under such sad circumstances.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for baking cookies for my father.”

  She smiled. “It was my pleasure. Take care, Brad. I hope we’ll see you again soon.”

  As she walked away from the farmhouse, she saw John’s truck pulling into the drive. He didn’t see her as he got out and began unloading big bags of horse feed and started for the barn.

  “Guder mariye!” she called and his head shot up.

  “Guder mariye” he said, smiling as he set the bag on the ground by his feet. “What are you doing here so early?”