A Plain Leaving

by Leslie Gould

  I smiled.

  “And not just our immediate prayers,” he added.

  Now I was curious. “Oh?”

  “Our prayers about what to do with the farm when we die.”

  I nearly choked. Surely they didn’t plan to give their farm to Silas after only knowing him for five days.

  “We’re still thinking about it,” John said. “We plan to live here . . . as long as we can. We’d charge him, of course, if he’d like to buy the property, in payments probably. But we’d make it affordable. It’s an idea we’re thinking about, talking about, and praying about.” He sighed. “We’ll see. I’m looking into drilling a new well on the other side of our property.”

  “That’s great,” I managed to say. It seemed as if Silas and whomever he chose to marry would soon be living on the Stoltzes’ farm. God was providing for Silas in a way I’d always prayed he would. So why did I feel as if I’d just been kicked in the stomach?

  I finally managed to sputter out what I’d been wanting to ask since we arrived. “Where is Silas?”

  “Oh, he had some sort of personal business today. An Amish woman came by, with a driver, right before you arrived. I gave him the day off.”

  How curious. Could Aenti Suz have been mistaken and Gail and Silas reconciled after all? They were clearly going somewhere together. The courthouse to get a marriage license? No, he still needed to join the church. And he had a few classes to finish up first, but perhaps Bishop Jacobs would baptize Silas early. He’d taken the class before, with me. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he was getting into.

  “Well,” Tom said, probably bored with the conversation about Silas. He stuck out his hand. “It’s certainly nice to meet you, Mr. Stoltz. Thank you again for being willing to be interviewed.”

  John nodded. “I just hope it helps someone else make a better decision than I did.”

  I thanked him too. “Please tell Mildred hello.”

  “I will,” he said. “She’s resting. It’s not a good day for her, so far.”

  I felt nothing but kindness toward the man. Mildred was blessed to have a husband who loved her so well. I told him that he and Mildred were in my prayers and then said good-bye.

  As Tom and I left the farm, I tried not to think of Silas and Gail marrying. But I couldn’t help it. Sadness filled me as I did, and the harmonious feeling that had fallen on me earlier as we entered Lancaster County started to fade. I tried to pray, to regain the peace I’d felt, but I couldn’t seem to form even a simple prayer.

  Tom vented his frustration about the interview on the way back to Harrisburg. It hadn’t gone as he’d hoped at all. “John didn’t seem very friendly.”

  “He is,” I said. “He just wasn’t comfortable.”

  “With me?”

  I nodded. “He wouldn’t be with any Englischer.”

  “He was with you, though. I could sense the difference.”

  “Well . . .” I didn’t bother to explain. He was actually friendlier with me than I’d expected, considering I’d left the Amish. The truth was, John Stoltz made me feel as if I’d never left, even though I was wearing Englisch clothes. He’d been nothing but kind to me. I leaned back in my seat, feeling frustrated with both Tom and myself.

  Even though I’d been living Englisch for three years, there were things neither of us would ever understand about the other. In many cases it wouldn’t matter, but I feared it might for us. But I couldn’t verbalize what I was feeling to Tom.

  Instead I asked, “Do you think you have enough for an article?”

  “I hope so,” Tom said.

  We chatted more about work and then about church. Easter was coming up. My heart fell a little. I always loved Easter back home and would even help with the extra baking the week before. Then the remembrance of the Lord’s death started off solemnly with fasting on Good Friday morning, which ended with dinner. On Saturday, friends and family stopped by to visit and we served the baked goods we’d prepared earlier. Sunday morning we ate hard-boiled eggs with breakfast, as a reminder of rebirth, and then celebrated the Lord’s resurrection. We dyed eggs and then hid them after the noon meal. On Monday, we had another day of reflecting on Christ’s sacrifice for us, and also on the salvation He offered.

  Tom didn’t ask me about Easter back home, but instead talked about the music program at church and then Easter with his family. “You’re invited, of course,” he said.

  “Thank you.” I smiled, but inside I felt only grief. I appreciated his family, I really did. But the ache for my own was stronger than it had been in the last three years.

  My grief—and not just for Dat—overwhelmed me. “You know, I think I’ll take the rest of the day off,” I said.

  “Really?” Tom turned toward downtown. “After taking a whole week?”

  “Jah,” I answered. This time the word didn’t make me wince. “Please take me to my apartment.”

  He shook his head, just enough to appear patronizing, and then said, “If you insist.”

  “Jah,” I answered again. “I do.”

  We rode for a moment in silence and then I said, “I think we should take a break.”

  “Jessica,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure.” I fought back tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have been more understanding about you needing more time, to mourn your dad. . . .” His voice trailed off.

  Too choked up to speak, I said nothing. It was more than that. I felt overcome with conflict. I hadn’t felt such a lack of harmony in my life since I fled Lancaster County the first time.

  But honestly, it was grief over Silas too. I thought of Ruby. My situation wasn’t the same as hers, but why had I ever gotten involved with Tom when I still loved Silas? Denial was why. I’d convinced myself I no longer cared for Silas.

  I couldn’t keep denying it any longer. I’d never marry Silas. But I couldn’t continue dating Tom, not when I felt this way about someone else.

  Tom pulled into a parking space in front of my building. “I’ll give you time, then we’ll sort this out.” He smiled kindly. Clearly he didn’t think I was trying to break up with him. I’d have to figure out how to talk with him later.

  I thanked him, and then as I started to get out of the car, he said, “I’ll call you Sunday.”

  I almost laughed. Time was two days to him. Oh well. I’d have to find my words soon enough.

  After a quick good-bye, I dug in my purse for my key as I headed to the outside door, pausing a moment. Tom couldn’t give me what I needed. And neither could Silas. Nor my Amish community. They could add to my transformation, but only the Lord could change me and give me peace. Help me to trust you, I prayed as I unlocked the door. To follow you. Use the conflict—this pain—to show me who I am, to show me how to serve you better, to strengthen me, to help me. Even if that means returning home—especially if it means returning home. My knees grew weak. Was that the decision that I’d just made? To go back home? Even though I had no future with Silas?

  Honestly, the thought of returning felt scarier than leaving had. “Fear thou not; for I am with thee. . . .”

  Help me not to be afraid, I prayed.

  I opened the door to the stairwell and paused. The hard things in her life had shaped Ruby. My leaving Lancaster and the change I’d gone through had convinced me that the place I truly belonged was back on my ancestral land. Hopefully Mamm—and ultimately Arden—would welcome me home. For good.

  As I stepped on the first stair, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a young woman dressed Plain come out of the coffee shop. Then a man.

  I froze. It was Silas. I took another look at the woman, expecting Gail. It wasn’t. It was Leisel.

  21

  Leisel!” I blurted out as she rushed toward me. We hugged for a long moment. As she released me, she said, “We need to talk.”

  I peered over her shoulder and made eye contact with Silas. My heart began to race. “Has something happened
to Mamm? Or Marie?” Tears stung my eyes. “Has Arden taken a turn for the worse?”

  “No, everyone’s fine,” Leisel said. “But we have some information you need to know.”

  Relieved no one was hurt or dying, I said, “Come on up.” I motioned for them to head up the stairs. “Third floor, at the end of the hall.”

  Once we were inside my apartment, I offered to make some tea.

  Leisel shook her head and smiled. “We’ve been drinking coffee all morning. We thought we’d catch you before you went to work this morning. Then we stopped by your office and found out you’d gone to Lancaster County for an interview. Because your car was here, we decided to wait in the coffee shop.”

  Once we’d all sat down in my tiny living room, I asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Do you remember that older Englischman at Dat’s service? The one in the rumpled suit?”

  I nodded.

  “It turns out he’s a lawyer. He stopped by yesterday to speak with Mamm, and then the two of them went and talked to Arden.” She explained that Dat had set up some sort of trust for the farm. “He specified that he wanted you and Arden to make all of the decisions concerning the property together, that you have to be in agreement or no changes as far as the use or sale of the land can be made.”

  “What?” That sounded like a nightmare—but also an answer to the prayer of my heart a few minutes ago.

  “Jah,” Leisel said, “so Arden can’t sell off the woods without you agreeing to it.”

  Silas spoke up. “Or allow fracking on the property.”

  I turned toward him. “Did you know about Arden’s plans all along? Were you the one who put the plans on the desk?”

  He nodded, his eyes bright. “Jah.”

  Leisel stepped closer to me. “Mamm told us about the plans you showed her, that Arden contacted the company when Dat fell ill.” She bit her lip and turned toward Silas again.

  “I found the plans after you arrived,” he said, “when I was looking for more cleaning forms in the office. I’m the one who left them out on the desk. So you’d find them.”

  I nodded. “I wondered when you later told me they were in the cabinet.” I wrinkled my nose. “Is Dat’s plan legit, though? Since I left the church? Won’t Bishop Jacobs veto it?”

  “No,” Leisel said. “Mamm asked the lawyer the same thing. Apparently a legal document has more power than the bishop.”

  The Englisch girl inside of me believed her, but the Amish girl had her doubts. Surely Arden and Bishop Jacobs could do something to overrule it.

  But I knew Dat would have made certain his plan would work before having his lawyer draft the paperwork. From the grave, he was forcing two of his children to work out their differences, to push past the conflict, to put the good of the land before anything else. While he was alive, he’d been so careful not to meddle in the lives of his adult children, most likely praying we’d work out things on our own. But as he neared death, he’d come up with a plan to, hopefully, provide the opportunity for healing—and to save the farm.

  “You’ll cooperate, right?” Leisel said. “Dat was brilliant to do this. You should have seen the look on Milton’s face when he figured out what was going on. He was so relieved.”

  My eyes widened. I thought Milton was on Arden’s side, but perhaps not. He valued the land too. Dat had wanted the farm to be preserved for the next generation. He’d done what he could to make sure it would be.

  “Will you go with me?” I asked Leisel. “To talk with the lawyer?”

  It was Leisel’s turn to blush. She shook her head. “I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving? What do you mean?”

  “I’m headed to Pittsburgh. To nursing school—”

  She was going to become a nurse. Part of me was happy for her, but mostly I felt alarmed.

  “—I just received my acceptance. I start the end of August. But I’m going to find a job and get settled.”

  “Leisel,” I said. “Why?”

  She shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “Because it’s what I need to do.”

  That was exactly what I’d said to her when I left three years before.

  “What did Mamm say?”

  Leisel eyes softened. “She cried. The timing is bad, I know.”

  “I see.” My stomach dropped. Surely I’d encouraged her by my own leaving.

  Silas shot Leisel a sympathetic look.

  My stomach fell even further. Why was Silas with her? Had something happened this week? Surely he wasn’t going with her. A wave of nausea swept over me.

  “Where are your bags?” I glanced from Leisel to Silas as I spoke, looking around as if I might have overlooked a bag or two.

  “My bag is in the coffee shop storeroom. The nice people there said I could keep it there until my friend arrives to give me a ride to Pittsburgh.”

  “Friend?”

  She blushed. “I met him in my CNA class. But he really is just a friend. I have no intention of becoming involved with him.”

  “Why is he going to Pittsburgh?”

  Her face turned a brighter shade of red. “He lives there. He started the nursing program last fall.”

  “Oh.” So it seemed Silas wasn’t going with her. How paranoid was I? More important, when would I stop caring about Silas?

  I got over my distraction and realized Leisel had a relationship with this young man, whether it was romantic or not. My heart lurched. She’d never joined the church, so she wouldn’t be shunned the same way I had, but I still didn’t want her to move to Pittsburgh, to be so far away. To be on her own. Especially if I was going home.

  No matter what, I needed to go back to the farm now, at least to fulfill my duty that Dat had conscripted me to do. And hopefully to stay. No matter what Leisel had decided.

  I turned toward Silas. “What do I need to do now? As far as the farm.”

  “Meet with the lawyer, to start with,” he said. “And then with Arden. He should know you plan to hold him accountable.”

  “What about Bishop Jacobs?”

  “Meet with him too—immediately, before Arden slants all of this from his point of view.”

  I must have appeared terrified because Silas said, “I’ll go with you to both meetings. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  I couldn’t help but think of Duncan telling Ruby, “I’ll do it for you.” But Silas was telling me, “I’ll do it with you.” That was even better.

  My eyes met his in gratitude. “Denki,” I said. But I still wasn’t sure why Silas came with Leisel. “What about you?” I said to him. “What are your long-term plans?”

  “John Stoltz has an idea, as far as his land.”

  I nodded. “He told me.” Again, I felt the grief of losing Silas, but if I truly cared about his well-being as much as my own, then I’d want what was best for him. I sighed inside. That was what I wanted—God’s best for all of us.

  Silas glanced at Leisel. She pointed toward the door. “I’m going to go get my bag. My ride will be here in a few minutes. Come down and tell me good-bye.” She quickly slipped out.

  I turned toward Silas. “What’s going on?”

  “I do hope to buy John Stoltz’s farm, although I’m afraid it’s too early for him to consider such an arrangement. He doesn’t know me yet.”

  “But he’s impressed with you.”

  “Time will tell,” Silas said. “But it gives me hope that perhaps I can have my own place someday.”

  I nodded. That’s what I truly hoped for him too.

  “And if everything works out with John and Mildred, I’ll be able to care for my mother and support a family.”

  “So you’ll join the church soon?”

  He nodded.

  I swallowed, trying to get rid of the growing lump in my throat, thinking about my earlier suspicion that he and Gail had gone to get a marriage license. I’d been wrong—but what if I wasn’t? “The church. A farm. All of that will be nice for you . . . and Gail.”

  “Ga
il?”

  “Jah . . .”

  He shook his head. “I need to know what your intentions are.”

  “Mine?”

  “Are you considering coming home? For more than to work with Arden on the direction of the farm?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  He stepped toward me. “So I know what I should do.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “I regretted not leaving with you, not following you,” he said. “Even more, I regretted not sticking up for you when it came to the bishop and Arden. I was trying so hard to act like an adult that I acted like a child.”

  He exhaled slowly. Thankfully he didn’t seem to want a response from me, because I had no idea what to say.

  Silas stepped closer. “I know you’ve been dating Tom, but I don’t sense you’re as committed to him as you indicated.” He reached for my hand. I let him take it, and his warmth quickly spread through me. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Jessie,” Silas said. “I thought maybe I had—until I saw you that day, climbing out of your car. I want to join the church, to commit to God and our community. But I want nothing more than for you to come home, for us to commit together.”

  My eyes locked with Silas’s as a knock fell on the open door. “Jessica?”

  It was Tom.

  I stepped away from Silas toward the door. But my thoughts weren’t on Tom. They were on Ruby Bachmann. On the moment when she stepped away from Paul and took Duncan’s hand.

  “Oh,” Tom said as I opened the door and he saw Silas. “I see they found you.” He glanced around. “But at work they said there was an Amish girl too.”

  “Leisel. She’s down in the coffee shop.”

  “Is everything all right?” Tom asked.

  I nodded.

  “Oh, good. I thought perhaps something had happened.”

  I shook my head. Too much had happened. I couldn’t explain it all.

  I turned toward Silas. “Could you go check on Leisel? I’ll be right down.”

  Silas headed to the door as I took a deep breath. Tom had a right to know what my decision was, before even Silas did. “Thank you for coming to check. It was very kind of you.” I sincerely meant it.