by Leslie Gould
“Hold on,” Mandy said.
As she steered the car to the edge of the lane, Simon swung open the door, letting in the icy air. He unbuckled his seat belt and slid out of the car in one move. Thankfully he closed the door behind himself.
Lila looked the other way, into the woods behind her father’s house, back where Simon had his shooting range.
As a child, she’d never wanted to grow up, especially not after her mother died. She’d wanted to stay thirteen, the golden year before she was done with school, back when she and her siblings played with Zane every day. When she could run as fast and far as the boys and swing across the creek on the rope. When their whole lives were ahead of them and yet there was no thought past the next day and what they would play.
Simon fell against the door and then opened it and slid back onto the seat. “I feel better,” he said.
“You might as well drink toilet bowl cleaner,” Lila said. “You’re poisoning yourself just the same.”
He wagged his finger at her but didn’t say anything.
Mandy pulled back onto the lane, and a minute later down the driveway to the house. “Thank you,” Simon said to her, “for everything.” Lila wondered what else he meant, besides the ride.
Lila thanked Mandy and climbed out quickly, hurrying toward the back steps and then into the house. She made her way through the pitch-black kitchen to the table and felt around until she found the matches and the lamp. After she lit it, she looked around. Rose had mostly cleaned up, but there was still a dirty frying pan on the stove. Lila lifted it and sniffed. Cabbage and onions. She’d rather clean it now than in the morning.
By the time she was drying it, Simon finally came in.
“I feel much better,” he said again, much too loudly.
“Hush.”
“You hush,” he said, grabbing the side of the table. Once he’d steadied himself, he blurted out, “Don’t you get tired of always doing the right thing?”
“No,” Lila answered. “I don’t.” She snapped the dish towel toward him and then hung it over the back of a chair to dry. Turning toward the lamp, she said, “Good night.”
“I know you still love him,” Simon said.
She froze, her hand in midair.
“Jah.” His voice rose again. “You’re courting Reuben, but you love Zane. How do you live with yourself?”
She spun around and blew out the lamp. He was drunk. He didn’t know what he was talking about.
“I know you,” Simon said as she started toward the hall. “You’ve always loved him.”
“Stop it,” she hissed, turning back toward him even though she couldn’t see him in the dark.
“You want to know if he loves you back, don’t you?” Simon’s breath reeked.
“No.” She stepped away. “I don’t.”
“Sure you do.” She guessed he smiled but couldn’t tell. “But I wouldn’t tell you, even if you asked.” Something lit up the room—a flashlight? Too flat. She realized it was a phone. Like Mandy’s.
“He has a girlfriend,” Lila said, nodding toward the phone but turning her head from his rancid breath. “Mandy showed me the photos on Facebook.” The stab of pain in her chest, again, surprised her.
“I doubt it’s true,” Simon said, stepping toward her. “He didn’t say anything about her when he was home. You can’t use that as an excuse not to live your own life.”
He started for the hall, bumping into her as he passed, the light of the phone bobbing along. “Zane’s been much more faithful than you have.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
If he heard, he ignored her. He turned down the hall, bumped against the wall, and then made his way to the bathroom. Lila stayed in the dark kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t come back. He didn’t. He bumped against the hall wall again and then finally fumbled his way into his bedroom and shut the door.
Instead of going to bed, Lila stepped into the living room and sat in Dat’s chair. The moonlight made its way through the window. Trying to distract herself from what Simon had said, she curled up and looked at her hands. In the dim light they reminded her of her Mamm’s. Young and worn at the same time. Lila didn’t mind the worn look—it meant she worked hard, taking care of her father and her siblings, helping to provide for the family.
She knew her mother had loved Dat, but Lila also knew the relationship wasn’t easy for her Mamm. Her mother didn’t want to leave the church and marry Daniel and Lila’s biological father. “I was a foolish girl to get myself into that position, but always remember God worked good from it,” her mother had once said, the only time she talked about it. “And always remember that your Dat truly is your father. He’s the one who cares for you.”
And he had, in his own way.
All fathers had their struggles, Lila was sure. She knew things weren’t perfect between Zane and Joel. She knew there were times when Joel was distant and other times when he didn’t try to see things from Zane’s point of view—but he was never harsh.
She didn’t expect marriage to be easy, but she didn’t expect it to be hard with Reuben either. They would be respectful and kind and caring. In the long run, it wouldn’t matter that she didn’t love him now. She was committed to Reuben. That was what would last.
“How do you live with yourself?”
She was doing the right thing in agreeing to marry Reuben, wasn’t she? She didn’t really love Zane. She’d had a crush on him when they were young, that was all. Monika had once said that was often what first love was. An infatuation. That’s what it was with Zane. Lila was sure of it. Simon didn’t know what he was talking about.
The wood stove gave off a little heat but not much. She sank deeper into the chair, clasping her hands around her knees and drawing them to her chest, wishing she had a phone like Mandy’s. Not to send Zane a photo but to look at the ones of him from time to time. For a moment tonight, looking at his picture, he hadn’t felt as far away. And seeing him with Casey made her face reality.
She sighed and climbed out of the chair. No, it was a good thing she didn’t have a phone. She had no business looking at photos of Zane Beck—not even ones of him with another girl.
Lila awoke at five a.m. to Dat yelling at Simon to get out of bed. She rolled onto her stomach and pulled her pillow over her head. A few minutes later, Dat yelled again. Rose groaned and Trudy stirred.
Lila stumbled from the bed. As her feet hit the floor, the icy cold shot up her legs. She fished her slippers out from under the bed, grabbed her robe, and stumbled out into the hall.
She could see Dat by the dim light coming from the lamp in the kitchen, standing in the doorway to the hall, ready to yell again.
“I’ll get him up,” Lila said. “Go on out. He’ll be right behind you.”
Dat hesitated but then followed her instructions.
Lila bumped against the wall, rubbed her eyes, stepped to Simon’s door, and knocked gently. He didn’t respond.
She cracked it open. “Simon.”
He still didn’t respond, but his bed creaked as he flopped toward the wall.
Lila stepped into the room. It had that boy smell—dirty laundry and crusty socks mixed with sweat, even in the dead of winter. She stopped at his bed and shook his shoulder.
“Go away,” he muttered.
“Time to milk,” she said.
“Can’t you do it?”
“Jah, right. And you’ll cook breakfast? I don’t think so.” She shook him harder. “Get up now.”
He groaned.
“It’s not going to be any easier in the Army.”
“I won’t be as dumb then.”
“Don’t count on it.” She shook him again. “Get going. I told Dat you’d be right out.”
He slid one leg out from the covers. He still had his clothes on from the night before. “Brush your teeth,” she said. “Or the smell of you will frighten the cows.”
Once he had his second leg out of bed, she he
aded back to her room and dressed and then continued on to the kitchen to start the coffee. Simon looked at the pot longingly as he shuffled by.
“You can have some when you’re done,” she said.
He grabbed his coat but missed his sleeve. Lila stepped to his side and held it out for him. “What made you so sure about joining the Army?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to.”
She couldn’t even make the simple decision to go work for Mammi. How could he decide so easily to change the course of his entire life?
She pointed to the door. “Get going.” He frowned at her but did as she said.
He’d always be her baby brother. She’d felt maternal toward him from when he was little, even though she was less than two years older than he was. She still felt that way—mixed in with feeling infuriated with him too.
An hour and a half later, Simon came in for breakfast and collapsed in a chair at the table. “Give me coffee,” he moaned.
“Get it yourself,” Lila responded. She might love her brother, but she wasn’t his servant.
He grumbled and shuffled toward the counter as Lila flipped the hotcakes. Simon left his coffee black and staggered back to the table as if he were ninety.
“Where’s your cane?” Lila asked.
“Jah, I could use one today.” He took a sip of coffee.
“What did Dat say?”
“Who cares?” He took another sip and stared out the window. Lila put the platter of hotcakes in the oven and went to wake the girls.
“I forgot to tell you,” Simon said when she returned. “Mammi left a message on the barn phone—she wants you to stop by. She said it’s important.”
Lila couldn’t go to Strasburg today, not with working the lunch shift. She’d have to wait until tomorrow after church.
She turned toward Simon. “When do you leave?”
He shrugged. “The recruiter is supposed to tell me this week.”
She and Rose would have to share his milking responsibilities. It was impossible for her to take Mammi’s job. She already felt half buried. And it was only going to get worse.
Sunday afternoon, after they’d all returned from church, Lila took the buggy over to her grandparents’. Trudy had wanted to come, but Lila told her to stay home and rest. The girl had a cold, and Lila didn’t want her to get worse.
The day was overcast, but the temperature had warmed up some and the road was slushy, causing droplets of ice to fly against the windshield of the buggy as cars sped by. Lila pulled the horse to the right, onto a side road to take the back way, hoping to save him from being pelted. By the time she reached her grandparents’ house shadows were already falling.
She unhitched the horse, put the blanket over him, and then knocked on her grandparents’ front door. Finally Dawdi opened it. He wore slippers and a rumpled sweater and seemed a little out of sorts, as if she’d woken him.
“Were you napping?” she asked as she gave him a hug.
“No.” He tugged on his gray beard. “Just resting.”
“Simon said Mammi left a message.”
“Jah,” he answered. “She did. Friday afternoon.” He turned toward their bedroom. “I’ll wake her.”
Lila had never known her grandmother to nap. “Is she all right?”
Her grandfather kept walking. “I’ll let her explain,” he said over his shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Lila sat down in the rocking chair. A cold cup of tea sat on the coffee table next to her grandmother’s Bible and a box of tissues. Perhaps her grandmother had a cold too.
Her grandfather left the bedroom and stepped into the kitchen. The water ran for a moment, followed by the hiss of the gas and the burst of the flame, just as her grandmother stepped out of the bedroom. She wore a housedress and her gray hair was in a single long braid, nearly to her waist. Lila had never seen it down.
Her grandmother’s hand went to her throat.
Lila stood, alarmed, and hurried across the room. “Mammi? What’s wrong?”
When she reached her, Mammi leaned against Lila. “Oh my. You looked like your mother for a moment, rocking in my chair.”
Lila’s heart pounded as she stood and led her grandmother to the sofa and sat down beside her. She sensed her grandfather watching, but he didn’t join them.
“Simon had just been born when she was the age you are now.” Mammi’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ve always looked like her, but never more than just now.”
Sadness spread through Lila. She knew she resembled her mother. Rose looked like Dat’s side of the family while Trudy favored their mother too. Mamm had never told Lila what her biological father looked like. Eve had known him, but she never talked about him either.
“Simon said you called.” Lila was eager to change the subject.
“I did.” Mammi took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “I had some tests done, before Christmas. I got the last of them back on Friday.”
“Tests?”
“Medical tests.”
Lila’s heart raced. “What kind?”
“A biopsy.” Mammi paused. Lila wanted to put her hands over her ears. Her grandmother sighed. “I have breast cancer. I wanted to tell you first, before the other children.”
That’s what their mother had died from. “What stage?” Lila managed to squeak.
“Four.”
Lila wrapped her hands around her grandmother’s bicep and clung to her.
“It’s not a death sentence,” Mammi said. “I’m older than your mother, which in this case is actually a good thing.” Lila quickly did the math. Her grandmother had been twenty when Lila’s mother had been born. Her mother would now be thirty-eight if she hadn’t died. Mammi was fifty-eight.
“Breast cancer usually grows faster in younger women,” Mammi said. “And remember your mother didn’t start chemo until after Trudy was born.” Mammi patted Lila’s hands. “Our insurance is good, so we don’t have that concern.” The Amish didn’t buy insurance, at least not most of them. They relied on mutual aid—helping one another out in times of medical emergencies, but as Mennonites her grandparents could buy insurance.
“Your Dawdi will go talk with your father tomorrow and explain. And talk with him about telling Trudy. Rose too.”
“Simon’s leaving soon.”
Mammi nodded. “I’ll tell him and Daniel. The three of you are grown now, I feel all right talking with you. But I wanted your father to know before we tell the younger ones.”
“All right,” Lila said.
Mammi took Lila’s hand. “I also wanted to let you know that I shouldn’t have pressured you about the job. Before I knew I was ill, I thought having you here would be good. I thought I could spoil you some before you marry and have a family. But I’m glad you declined. I don’t want this to be your burden.”
A sob rose up in Lila’s throat. “Oh, Mammi,” she said. “What about the shop?”
“We’ll hire another girl. We’ll manage. I’ll have chemo after the surgery.”
“When is the surgery scheduled?”
“It’s not yet—first they need to make sure my heart is strong enough for surgery.”
Lila leaned closer, breathing in Mammi’s lavender scent, still clinging to her arm. “Do you have heart problems too?”
Mammi shook her head. “A heart murmur is all. It’s a standard procedure to run some tests.”
A rustling from the kitchen stopped the conversation. Dawdi came toward them with mugs on a tray.
As they drank their tea Mammi said, “I asked the doctor, and he said my having cancer doesn’t mean it’s hereditary. It’s a different kind than your mother’s.”
Lila nodded. She hadn’t even thought of that.
Mammi took her hand. “No matter what happens, I want you to know I’ve had a good life. Losing your mother broke my heart, but you children have brought me so much joy. And I’m grateful to have had this life with your grandfather. I’ve had the priv
ilege of loving him for forty years.” Mammi squeezed Lila’s hand. “I pray for that for you and Reuben, for a marriage of love and respect. For years of happiness too.”
“Thank you,” Lila managed to say, fighting back her tears. She thought about talking with her grandmother about Zane for a split second but decided not to. That would only burden Mammi, and that was the last thing she needed right now. “You’ve had a good life, Mammi, and you have decades more of it to go.”
Mammi squeezed her hand. “I hope so.”
Lila left after she finished her tea, and as she drove home she forced herself not to think about what her grandmother had said about loving Dawdi, that it was a privilege. Instead she thought about her grandmother not wanting her to move in with them now—not wanting Lila to care for her.
But that was exactly what Lila wanted to do. She felt more herself with her grandmother. More connected to her mother. More the woman she thought she might have grown into if her mother hadn’t died. More confident. Less worried about what others thought.
Mostly though she wanted to take care of her grandmother. She needed to care for her. Simon was right. It was time for her to do something she wanted.
The day after New Year’s, Trudy was well enough to go to school. Lila drove her, lost in her thoughts about Mammi again, trying to figure out how to approach her Dat. It had been three days since she’d spoken with her grandmother, but she still hadn’t come up with a plan. She had a goal though—by the time Mammi had her surgery, she wanted to be living in the cottage with her grandparents. She wanted to care for Mammi. It was up to her to make it happen.
Trudy prattled away. “I wonder if the new teacher will really be as strict as everyone says,” she said once the school was in sight.
“That’s right,” Lila said. “I’d forgotten she was starting today.”
“Will you come in and meet her?”
Lila squinted into the morning sun. “Sure,” she answered and smiled at her little sister.
The new teacher was middle-aged, probably around forty. Her hair was streaked with gray, and she was a little plump. As Trudy turned shy and half hid behind Lila, the woman’s hazel eyes brimmed with kindness and dimples flashed as she smiled. “Whom do we have here?” she asked.