The Proving

by Beverly Lewis

  At last, Trina spoke. “I know I’m overbearing sometimes,” she said softly. “I’ve heard it my entire life, but I’m trying.”

  Mandy shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean . . . we’ve gotten along well, and I’ve appreciated your help. But this thing ’tween Arie Mae and me . . . you have to let it go.”

  A silent pause fell over them again, the wind rustling through the stark black tree branches, bringing more snowflakes with it.

  Trina tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Look, it’s really not my place, okay? I’m sure your sister did something dreadful, but have you considered that maybe she wants to make up?” Trina turned now, her eyes piercing Mandy. “Maybe she’s hoping you’ll forgive her. That’s all I’m saying.” She removed the key from the ignition.

  Mandy shook her head. “It’s too late for that.”

  “Too late?” Trina looked shocked. “You’re a goodhearted person, Mandy—one of the nicest I’ve ever met. People like you don’t hold grudges.”

  “It’s not a grudge.”

  “Then what?”

  Their eyes met again, and neither of them spoke for a prolonged moment.

  Finally, Mandy reached to open the door, knowing Trina was right. It’s just not very easy, she thought.

  “Let’s get the groceries inside,” Mandy said, bracing herself for the wintry blast.

  That night, when Mandy slipped into bed, she had some difficulty praying but still managed to thank God for helping her make it through yet another day in Gordonville. She recalled running into Arie earlier, looking quite pregnant now, and remembered the way Trina had stumbled through the awkward situation. Arie had responded so kindly, even glancing over at Mandy from time to time, as if pleased by the unintended meeting.

  “Arie seemed so happy to see you,” Trina had insisted to Mandy.

  Sighing, Mandy reached for the large flashlight and shone the light on her wall calendar, where she had been marking off the days, one by one, and thinking ahead to next November.

  One day closer to my goal . . .

  Chapter

  29

  The next morning, after the departing guests had checked out, Trina offered another meager apology while she and Mandy stripped beds together. “Whatever’s going on between you and your sister isn’t my business. But I gave you my opinion, and you can decide what to do with it.”

  Mandy had to smile. Even when apologizing, Trina could be rather pushy. “There’s more to the story,” she said.

  “There usually is,” Trina replied, but she dropped it right there. And they worked together for the rest of the day in relative calm while Mandy wondered when, or if, she would ever become accustomed to Trina’s frank approach.

  Weeks passed, and by the time April arrived, the many blossoming trees and bushes gave a sweet aroma to the air.

  One mild Sunday afternoon, after they had returned home from the community church, where Trina had also settled in since Gavin’s departure, Mandy showed her how to hitch Ol’ Tulip up to the family carriage. Gertie, who’d long since recovered from the colic, was content to graze in the nearby meadow while Mandy hauled the guests around on the short jaunt with Trina assisting in Karl Lantz’s stead. From what Karl had said a few days ago, he and Yonnie planned to spend the afternoon in Ronks, so Mandy was thankful that Trina was willing to help out, despite the fact a farm animal was involved.

  “Next, I’ll teach ya how to hold the driving lines and direct the horse,” Mandy suggested as she and Trina unhitched Ol’ Tulip after the guests had enjoyed their buggy ride.

  Trina pulled a face. “Hold your horses!” She laughed as she helped to unhook the holdback straps.

  “You need to learn how to do this, jah? In case I need help.”

  Trina grinned.

  “I know that grin,” Mandy replied with a smile.

  “Were you thinking you might need help in case Karl’s not around?”

  Mandy frowned. “Well, sure . . .”

  Still smiling broadly, Trina gave a quick nod. “Uh-huh . . . thought so.”

  “Now what’re you talking about?” Mandy held the shafts steady as the unhitched horse walked out.

  “Well, from observing the two of you together in the stable—”

  “Ach, Trina . . .”

  “Hey, he’s obviously interested—”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I don’t.”

  “He’s devoutly Amish.”

  “And you’re not?” Trina asked.

  “Well, you said I wasn’t.” Mandy gave her a goading smile.

  “I’m not so sure anymore,” Trina replied.

  “Why?”

  “Let’s call it a hunch.”

  Mandy led the mare toward the stable. “Here we go again,” she said over her shoulder.

  Trina followed her inside and helped to freshen the straw in the stall. “You can’t tell me you aren’t fond of Karl.”

  Mandy ignored her. “What ’bout you and Gavin? Are you two fallin’ in love?”

  “Don’t change the subject. Amishwomen are supposed to be meek and mild, remember?”

  Mandy laughed. “I’m learnin’ from you how to dish it out. So let’s talk more about Gavin.”

  Trina took a breath and slowly let it out. “Okay, so we’re being real.”

  “Honest, jah.” Mandy nodded, noting Trina’s sudden shift.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on.”

  “With you or with Gavin?”

  “With me, I guess,” Trina replied. “Because he wants to see me again soon.” Reaching for the grooming brush, Trina sighed loudly. “If God has anyone new for me, it’s likely Gavin. I mean, he’s the most patient person I’ve ever met. And he’s kind, smart, and sensitive.”

  “Good-lookin’, too,” Mandy added. “Don’t forget that.”

  “Oh, I agree that he’s handsome. But most important, he’s unflinching in his faith. I’ve really enjoyed some of our long conversations, even though lately they’ve all been by phone.”

  “Then, what’s the problem?”

  Trina paused. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that he’s so different from Shawn.” She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at Mandy. “Sometimes, I wonder what he sees in me.”

  Perhaps he’s attracted to a strong woman. Mandy thought of the poem, smiling. “I hope you realize how much you have to offer Gavin.”

  Trina began to groom the horse, starting by loosening the dirt and hair with the curry comb, not answering for a time. At last, she said, “I don’t know. Something’s holding me back.” She frowned. “It might just be too soon for me.”

  “Is that really the reason?”

  Trina looked shocked. “What do you think it is?”

  “Ach, I’ll give this a try,” Mandy said softly, taking her time . . . wanting to get the words right. “I think you’re afraid of losing him, Trina. Like you lost Shawn.”

  Catching her eye, Trina scowled fleetingly but didn’t reply. Pressing her lips together, she continued brushing, but she looked like she might explode. Suddenly, she stopped her grooming and gave Mandy a thoughtful look. “What if things don’t work out?”

  Mandy felt for her. “I still think you should give him a chance.”

  Frowning now, Trina looked right at Mandy. “Is this what I sound like when I’m pestering you?”

  Mandy tried not to chuckle as she picked up the soft brush and helped Trina groom away the loosened dirt from Ol’ Tulip, talking softly to the mare as she did so.

  “Part of me does want to give Gavin a chance.”

  A silence pervaded the stable. Then Trina added, “I wish you could give your family a chance, too, Mandy.”

  “Trina . . .”

  “For starters, why not think about going to worship with your sister and the rest of your family?”

  “To Preaching service?” Mandy couldn’t begin to consider it.

  “Far as I can tell, that’s the missing part of the equation between you and t
he People,” Trina insisted. “Besides, you’d get to see all your relatives gathered in one place.”

  “Trust me, they’re not so keen on seein’ me.”

  “I think you might be wrong.”

  “How would you know?” Mandy asked, frustrated. “You must understand by now that I haven’t actually joined the Amish church.” She went on to mention that her Dawdi and Mammi Dienner had told her that they and the rest of the family had looked on her as disrespectful for abandoning her widowed Mamma. “They were real leery of me.” She sighed and recalled how she’d felt when her grandfather gently reprimanded her. “The People think I’m a rebellious soul, in need of saving.”

  “Well, why not prove them wrong?” Trina said, studying her. “After all this time, wouldn’t it be wonderful to get back into their good graces?”

  Mandy was taken aback. “That’s not an option.”

  “Why not?”

  “It just ain’t,” Mandy insisted.

  “So . . . who’s afraid of losing now?”

  Mandy considered all the times she’d looked across to the nearby farmhouse, where Arie Mae must be preparing her nursery for the coming baby. To think Mandy would never really know her new little nephew or niece. Heavyhearted, she replied, “What Arie Mae and I had is long gone. And there’s no point in discussing this further.”

  Trina stepped closer. “I’m not asking you to fix things with your sister. Just go back to your former church and see where it might lead.”

  Mandy shook her head.

  “Just one time?” Trina persisted.

  Their eyes met, and Mandy couldn't believe she was actually considering the surprising suggestion. Despite the welcome quiet, she wished she could brush off the unsettling conversation. Yet it lingered in her mind for the rest of the day.

  Jah, maybe I’ll go once, she thought, but just for old time’s sake.

  Chapter

  30

  On certain afternoons, Mandy enjoyed some momentary quiet to read or write letters, having become more accustomed to taking a little time for herself since hiring Trina. Winnie Maier was one of Mandy’s favorite people to correspond with, and occasionally she also emailed a note to Eilene Bradley or Karyn Fry, just to keep in touch.

  One thing hadn’t changed, though. Mandy still found herself glancing out the window, across the cornfield, wondering about her twin, and remembering the years when things were so much better between them. And then she would catch herself and shake off the cobwebs. Just take it day by day . . . then you can leave and not be surrounded by so many reminders.

  “You’re daydreaming again,” Trina said the third Monday in April while walking across the yard to help Mandy finish hanging up the towels and washcloths.

  Mandy smiled. “I s’pose you’re right.”

  “I’m right a lot,” Trina replied, reaching for the clothespin bag and situating it closer to her. The response made Mandy smile. Weeks earlier, she would have groaned inwardly, but she’d gotten a better handle on who Trina was—the bravado was more about covering up her pain than anything else.

  “Even so, ya prob’ly shouldn’t boast ’bout it,” Mandy joked, waiting for a typical Trina comeback, but there was none.

  “Well, just so you know, Gavin and I had a good long talk by phone last night,” Trina said. “Can you guess what that means?”

  Mandy had wondered when she might find a way to revisit this. “So, did ya agree to see him?”

  Trina smiled. “I actually did.”

  The two of them worked without talking for a time, then Trina eyed her, asking, “Have you thought more about attending your old church?”

  “Well, I’d have to find out who’s hosting it first,” Mandy said, thinking that if Josiah and Arie were having it over there, she definitely would not go. It was hard enough to even consider going.

  “What’s that have anything to do with it?”

  “Each Gmay or church district rotates services throughout all the homes in its community,” Mandy explained. “So in the space of a year, every family hosts Preaching in its house or barn once.”

  Trina glanced at the inn. “Did you have Preaching services in this house, or out in the barn?”

  “Before Dat passed away, we held church in the house, because the kitchen, breakfast room, and adjoining sitting room were one large room. When Mamma got the idea to open the B and B to bring in some needed income, my brothers added the walls to divide up the space on either side of the existing fireplace.”

  Trina reached down to get another towel to pin to the line. “And you really haven’t seen your other brothers very much since you came back last fall?”

  Shaking her head, Mandy said, “Oh, we visit now and then, but it’s ever so uncomfortable, is all. Without you to talk to . . . or the guests, I’d be real lonely.”

  Trina turned to look over toward the stable. “What about Karl and Yonnie? You interact with them nearly every day.”

  “As friends,” Mandy said, making it clear.

  “I guess that’s another reason to start going where your people worship.”

  “Why?”

  “That way, Karl can see you’re not just playing Amish.”

  Mandy sighed. She wasn’t going to reveal her secret. Because if Trina knew of Mandy’s plan to sell her childhood home and leave Gordonville, she might wonder why she was working so hard to help out. No, she would never understand.

  Together, Mandy and Trina hitched up Gertie to the carriage the following Sunday, and Mandy headed off to attend the nearby Amish service with a real measure of anxiety while Trina took Mandy’s car to the community church down the road.

  This is so odd, Mandy thought, wondering why on earth she’d agreed and feeling increasingly nervous the closer she came to Preacher Stoltzfus’s farm.

  Even though Trina might have thought Mandy’s world could be righted by this single act, Mandy caught herself praying all the way and tried to pace the horse so she wouldn’t have to hurry later on, so different from driving a car. If I’m ever going to get more help, Mandy reasoned, I do need to be attending.

  But it was a poor excuse to go, and she knew it.

  At the preacher’s house, she turned into the long driveway marked on the north side by a bank of poplar trees, then handed off the horse and carriage to the hostlers, the six teenage boys responsible for looking after all the horses. One of the deacon’s grandsons, dressed in black trousers, vest and coat, and a long-sleeved white shirt, led Gertie to a large watering trough.

  Now that she was there, Mandy continued to pray under her breath, preparing for the possibility of encountering her sister again. Gingerly, she made her way over the freshly mown grass, lumpy with age-old tree roots. Silvery brown slivers of honey locust pods, some a foot long, were lying all over the ground. The morning was still fresh and dewy this early. Mandy hadn’t arrived for church so near to eight o’clock for the longest time, but she hoped doing so might help her get into an attitude of worship.

  Rounding the ivy-strewn white farmhouse, Mandy could see that the women’s line was already beginning to form. Observing the older women toward the front, Mandy noticed they kept their heads bowed slightly, not looking around. Some had devoutly folded their hands, and most were dressed in royal blue or black dresses with full black aprons and capes, the younger unmarried women and little girls in white organdy aprons.

  Except for the white organdy Kapp that she’d sewn for herself just a day ago, Mandy had donned all black, out of respect for the traditional mourning period.

  The first Dienner relative she spotted was Jerome’s very blond wife, Hannah, whom Mandy had seen a handful of times since her return. Their daughters, Gracie and Marian, however, had sprouted up remarkably since Mandy had last seen them. Mandy found herself blinking twice to make sure the school-age girls were actually Hannah’s.

  Determined not to draw attention to herself, Mandy slipped into the very back of the line, knowing she would be expected to walk in with the ot
her unbaptized young women.

  So far, all’s well, she thought, feeling much more tense than she ought to on this lovely Lord’s Day. If her mother were still alive, she would want Mandy to show the proper reverence prior to filing in to the temporary house of worship, something Mandy had been taught from her earliest days. So as Mandy inched forward to make space for the latecomers, she lowered her head and kept her eyes trained on the back of the black shoes of the young woman in front of her.

  ———

  Once both the lines of men and women had filed inside through separate doors, they all sat on hard wooden benches facing each other—the men’s side of the Gmay facing the women and little children.

  Several of the young women with whom Mandy had once attended Singings initially gave her surprised stares from where they sat near her on the back benches. But in just the space of a moment, their expressions changed quickly to acceptance when they understood that Mandy was present to join in worship.

  By the time Mandy had sung the familiar second hymn, Das Loblied, she realized she was standing behind her nineteen-year-old cousin, towheaded Ella Dienner. She considered how five years had made a marked difference in the appearance of certain of her kin, and hardly any in others, such as Danny’s and Joseph’s respective wives, tall and slender Rosanna and pretty Ruthie.

  The first sermon dealt with daily bearing one’s cross with patience and humility, as instructed by the Lord himself. The word humility particularly stood out to her, and while she was tempted to ponder others’ faults, she knew how much more important it was to attend to her own.

  While kneeling at the bench for the silent prayer, Mandy felt convicted in a greater way than when she’d gathered with the People for worship as a teenager. I haven’t really felt close to the Lord in years, she realized as the old feelings of helplessness fell over her.

  When the People rose in unison for the benediction, Mandy pressed her lips firmly together and willed herself not to shed a tear.