by Amy Lillard
“I think we should use flowers too,” Gracie said. “I mean, you spend all that time growing and nurturing them and watering them in this heat. It only makes sense to benefit from your efforts.”
“I don’t know anyone who has flowers like that,” Leah pointed out. They were absent for the very reasons Gracie stated. It was too hot and too much work for something that couldn’t be eaten.
“What’s wrong with flowers?” Gracie continued as if Leah hadn’t spoken. “They’re not vain or prideful. Are they?” She looked from Leah to Jamie and back again
“Are you thinking of getting married, Gracie?” Jamie asked. He thought he’d made himself clear when he went back on his intentions to court. But maybe she hadn’t understood.
Gracie shook her head. “Gracious, no.” She folded her napkin into her lap with a little too much attention to detail. “I’m just talking. But our cousin is getting married. In a couple of weeks.”
“Jah?” He swiveled his attention between the cousins. Gracie seemed a little too bright, a little too talkative and chipper, while Leah seemed almost sullen in her silence. Neither one was acting like herself. What did it mean? That he shouldn’t’ve invited them to supper? Or perhaps he should figure out a way to change the subject.
“Abby. That’s our cousin. She’s marrying Leah’s old flame.” Gracie leaned closer to Jamie as she talked, then let out a giggle.
“That was a long time ago,” Leah said. But a telling flush of pink rose into her cheeks.
“Really? Your cousin’s marrying your old boyfriend?”
Leah sighed. “That was fifteen years ago and another marriage for him.”
So whatever had been between them was long gone? Then why did she look so wistful? Did she still harbor feelings for him?
Hannah had returned after fifteen years and gotten back with her lost love. Maybe Leah’d been hoping for the same. They might look different on the outside and have different likes and dislikes. They were even members of different churches. But they were sisters—twin sisters.
“I’m going to be an attendant,” Gracie said. “Always an attendant.” Then her attitude shifted from solemn back into high gear. “You are coming, aren’t you, Leah?”
Leah shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Of course it’s a good idea. She’s our cousin.”
“It might be awkward.”
“Only if you let it,” Gracie returned.
“Not if you go with someone. Like a date.”
Gracie and Leah swung their attention to him. It was a little unnerving having their stares on him so intense. He was beginning to wonder if they’d forgotten he was at the table.
“Gracious me,” Gracie said. “That’s a great idea.”
But Leah was already shaking her head. “It’s not a great idea. It’s a bad idea.”
“It’s growing on me,” Gracie said.
“Then go take a bath,” Leah said through clenched teeth.
He understood her reluctance, and yet he didn’t. Being with her was like being on one of those rides at the fair, the ones shaped like a ball cut in half. They went around in a circle until a body couldn’t stand up once the ride stopped. They had argued, then disagreed, they had helped each other, then decided to court, she called it off, and now he was offering to be her date at her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. Jah, dizzying was right.
“It doesn’t have to be that kind of date,” he amended. The main thing was to get her to go with him. How could he convince her that they were meant for each other if he didn’t get to spend any time with her?
“I said I wasn’t even going,” Leah said.
“This way you can’t not go.”
Leah seemed to think about it an eternity. She looked as if she was about to decline. He had to do something.
“Listen, I came down here, and I didn’t know anyone. Well, except for your parents, and I barely knew them. Peter didn’t know anyone at all. This community has embraced us the entire time we’ve been here. But more than that, I feel very fortunate to call the two of you friend. And if friends can’t help one another . . . well, then, what good is there?”
He could tell the moment her resolve weakened. He didn’t know what caused the shift. It could be that she missed the Amish ways. Or perhaps she just missed being with her family and doing all the things they had done once before. It had to be hard going away Amish and coming back Mennonite. But he had to show her just how easy it would be, how great it would be when she joined the Amish church.
“As friends?” Leah pinned him with a quick stare.
“Of course.” But he crossed his fingers under the table, as he had done as a child.
“Then I would be happy to.” She smiled, and when she smiled like that, Jamie knew he could promise her the world and not think twice about it.
* * *
All in all, it was an enjoyable evening as far as Jamie was concerned. Peter seemed to have a good time as well, though he didn’t speak again. Jamie didn’t have any doubts that he had talked to Leah; she wouldn’t lie to him about something so important, or about anything, really. But he was beginning to wonder if she had heard something else and not his nephew’s voice.
“And the little rabbit and all her rabbit friends lived in the hollowed-out log for the rest of their days. The end.” Jamie closed the book and brushed the hair back from Peter’s face.
“Good night,” he said, kissing the boy’s forehead. He wanted to scoop him up and hold him so close he would have to speak to protest being held so tight, but Jamie refrained. He loved the boy with all his heart, but he knew Peter needed love and space. It was a tough combination.
Jamie pulled the covers up under Peter’s chin, knowing that before he sat down in the front room, the boy would have already kicked the covers to the bottom of the bed. Jamie didn’t know why he bothered, other than he felt he had to tuck Peter in. Wasn’t that what a good parent did? One of his parents tucked him in every night until he was ten years old and he asked them to stop. He’d had good parents. And he in turn wanted to be one as well.
“Sleep tight,” he murmured and headed for the door. Something stopped him there, and he turned around. Jamie sucked in a breath and made his way back over to the bed. “I hope you know you can talk to me,” he said into the darkness. “I love you, and I want you to be able to tell me everything.”
Only silence met his words.
“I know these last few months have been hard on you. Harder than any of us know. But I want you to believe that I have your best interests in mind. Everything I do, I do for you.”
There was a shift in the bed, then a little hand reached out to him, little fingers curving around his own.
Jamie nearly wept. Peter was there; he was still in there somewhere. He just had no idea how to pull him out of it.
He squeezed Peter’s fingers, then released his hand to leave the room. Maybe prayer. More prayer. The Bible said prayer was the answer to everything, and he had to believe it was true.
Chapter Eleven
If Jamie had to guess, he would’ve said that sometime around midnight Peter crept into his room. It was the same as always. Jamie had become a light sleeper since taking on the care of Peter. He had always heard mothers talk about “mamm hearing,” when the smallest sound in the house or one of their children stirring would wake them in the middle of the night. He wondered how women with ten or twelve kids did it, but he supposed the women got used to it. He was getting used to the other things. Like Peter sneaking into his room, crawling in bed beside him, and sleeping the rest of the night curled up next to him. He didn’t mind it; in fact it was sort of a comfort to have Peter there close. He could hear his even breathing, the small shuddering sighs, and he could feel the silk of the boy’s hair. He had promised to protect Peter, to care for him now and always, and it seemed like a much easier task if Peter was next to him.
“Come on,” he urged. The only sound to meet his ears was the pat
of Peter’s bare feet as he loped across the plank floor. A dip in the mattress, the squeak of the springs, and then Peter was beside him, snuggling down in the crook of his arm like he was born to do just that, like this was his place and no one else’s.
Jamie would always have room for Peter right there beside him, until the time when Peter didn’t need it anymore. If he needed it for the rest of his life, so be it. Peter came first, and any woman he decided to marry would have to accept that. One day he hoped to have a relationship. They could work around this crazy sleeping arrangement Peter had developed. But for now, Jamie was just happy to have the boy at his side. Never mind that they had just built a room onto the house so Peter would have his own space. It didn’t matter that he had his toys in there, his writing tablet, the wooden tractor Leah had given him, and all the other treasures he managed to save. No, this was what was important to Peter. And it always would be. Jamie knew one thing was certain. Until he found someone who loved the boy the way he did, this was the way it would remain.
* * *
“Jamie, where’s the dog?” Leah asked the following day. She hadn’t added anything else—no sweet greeting, or those niceties that people toss around like cheap confetti. Something that Jamie had said about the night of the accident had tickled her brain until she couldn’t stand it anymore. This morning she had realized what it was. She scooted out of the shop as soon as she could, saying a little prayer along the way that she would get to Jamie’s before Peter came home from school. This was a conversation best held between the two of them alone.
“What dog?”
“When you told me about the accident that killed Peter’s parents, you told me that Peter had a dog. He was in the barn with her the night of the fire. What happened to his dog?”
His mouth turned grim. “Goldie ran into the house after Peter.” He shook his head.
Leah’s heart fell to her toes. The boy had lost everything. His family, his sense of security, and his faithful dog.
“Why do you ask?”
“I thought maybe if you brought Peter’s dog down here that he might come around a little faster. You know, start to heal.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“You could get him a new dog.” The idea rushed from her like clear water from a mountain spring. Of course! The answer was so simple, and it had been just out of sight this entire time.
“I can’t get a dog.”
“Of course you can.” The more she thought about it, the more perfect the idea became. “I read this article the other day about therapy dogs.”
“Therapy dogs?” Jamie did not look convinced. But she had known going into this that he was a stubborn man. He would hold on to his conservative ideals with both hands if need be. But she could convince him. After all, he wanted what was best for Peter.
“Yes.” She nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain her excitement. “They use dogs for all kinds of things. They have dogs that can tell if a person is about to have a seizure and ones to help the blind.”
“I don’t understand how this will help Peter. He can see, and he doesn’t have seizures. The dog surely can’t speak for him.”
“But he can care for the dog, and he’ll have his sense of place back. Don’t you see?”
“I’m trying.”
“It’s like this.” Leah pulled him over to the house and sat on the edge of the porch. “Peter lost everything, even his dog. Now you are trying to be the family he lost.”
“And you think he needs a replacement dog.”
“Something like that.” But when he said it that way, it seemed crazy at best.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head and kicked at a clod of dirt to the left of his foot. He had on shoes, which meant he had been out running errands, or maybe even working. Had he been to see Deborah?
“Promise me you’ll think about it.”
He nodded, though she could see the reluctance. The idea was brilliant, and with a little help, she was sure she could get Jamie to see it her way.
She pushed herself up from the porch and started back to her car. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “I left Brandon at the shop all alone.”
“I thought he only worked alone on Tuesdays.”
“He works with Shelly on Tuesdays.”
“I see.”
Leah opened the car door and slid behind the wheel, ideas spinning in her head. A dog was just what Peter needed. Maybe not a new golden retriever, but another faithful, loyal dog he could help care for. It would give his life more purpose, new direction, and a whole lot of doggy kisses. The way she did the math, it was a perfect equation all around. “I’ll see you.”
He gave a small wave as she started the car.
“And Leah? Thanks for not bringing a dog out here today.”
She smiled. “Next time you might not be so lucky.”
* * *
Jamie watched as Leah pulled her car out of the drive and headed back for town. Was she right? Did Peter need another dog as a companion and friend? Would it make a difference? More than anything, he needed a difference for Peter, but with everything happening, and his deadline to have Peter speaking quickly approaching, he was afraid what he needed bordered on a miracle. And though dogs were great, he had never seen one bring forth a miracle.
* * *
“Everybody is going to be there.” Gracie looked to Hannah for confirmation. That in itself didn’t bother Leah, but the look her sister sent back did. Why did she get the feeling they were trying to set her up?
“Everybody?” she asked, looking from one to the other.
Hannah and Gracie nodded.
“Including Sarah Hostetler?”
Clearly that was not the name Gracie had been expecting. “Why Sarah?”
“Because if Sarah is there, then I’m sure her guest will be in tow.”
“Guest?” Hannah’s expression was all too innocent.
“One Deborah King from Ethridge.”
“I wouldn’t know why,” Gracie mused. “It’s not like she’s in our group or anything. She wouldn’t be invited.”
“I’m not in the group,” Leah pointed out.
“That’s different.” With a quick flick of one hand, Hannah whisked her words away.
“Did you invite Jamie?’
“No,” Hannah said, while at the same time, Gracie said, “Of course.”
“Which is it?”
“He’ll be there,” Hannah said.
If he was going to be there, so would Deborah. And the whole thing was just too confusing. Leah saw what she saw, and yet Jamie continued to act like one day he hoped there could be something between the two of them. And yet she could see no way that they could overcome their differences.
“I’ll pass.” As much as she hated it, he would be better off with someone like Deborah. Even better, someone like Gracie, but that might just be weird now.
“Are you afraid?” Hannah asked, a mischievous light shining in her hazel eyes.
“No,” she scoffed.
“I think you are. What do you think, Gracie?”
Gracie nodded. “Looks that way to me.”
Leah knew Gracie was just going along with Hannah, but still . . .
“Quit,” she said. “I’m not afraid. I’d just rather not go and have to watch the two of them all night.”
“We don’t even know if either one of them is going to be there,” her sister said.
“Who says anything is going to be between the two of them?” Gracie asked.
“Chicken,” Hannah added.
“Fine,” Leah said. “I’ll go, but—”
“No buts,” Hannah said. “Just relax and have fun.”
* * *
“An ice-cream party?” Leah asked. “Isn’t it a little late in the year for that?”
“It’s never too late in the year for ice cream,” Gracie explained.
“Quit complaining,” Hannah said as she pulled the buggy to a stop next to the line of carriag
es waiting for their owners. “It’s supposed to be fun.”
It might be if it wasn’t going to end up heartbreaking. Jamie had told her that it was over between him and Deborah. But she had seen their goodbye last Sunday. It had been nearly a week, and the image was as etched in her mind as if it had been there since time began. One thing was certain: Jamie and Deborah might have a few problems, but it would be no time at all before they got those worked out.
And poor Peter, who didn’t like Deborah, would end up with her as a mother. Leah made a note to say a prayer for Peter to gain peace where Deborah was concerned. He had been through too much to let this stop him.
“Get that sack,” Hannah ordered as Leah crawled from the back of the buggy.
She handed the bag out to her sister, then swung down from the carriage. “What’s in it?”
“We were all supposed to bring our favorite ice-cream toppings. I suppose we’ll set them all out and make our own sundaes.”
Oh, joy. The ice cream would be good, and Leah had no problem with most toppings, but how was she supposed to watch everyone eating their ice cream and enjoying themselves when she would rather be at home?
Sulking.
She was not sulking. She was merely being aware. Some things didn’t work out the way a person wanted them to. Her and Jamie? They were definitely one of those things.
“How did I let you talk me into this?” Leah asked as they headed across the yard. Until that moment, Leah hadn’t realized where they were: Sarah Hostetler’s house. Any hope that Deborah wouldn’t be at the party was gone in an instant. Deborah was staying with Sarah; of course she would be invited. With the way Leah’s luck was going, Deborah was probably the guest of honor.
“You know you wanted to come,” Hannah said.