“Oh, ya, this is just really funny now.” She glared at him. “You just wait until I tell.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Daed!”
Her father came around the side of the house, took one glance at her, and applauded. She picked up the hose, wrapped her hands around the spray nozzle, and rotated it back and forth, pointing at her Daed and Grey.
Surely out of respect she wouldn’t squirt her Daed, and Grey stood inside her home, with its polished floors, well-kept furniture, and white sheers, so he felt safe. “Ya? So just what are you going to—” Cold water smacked him in the face. While she continued soaking him, he slammed the window. She shifted and bombarded him from the next window right beside the first one. “Lennie!” Laughing too hard to catch his breath, he closed the next window.
The spray of water had caught potting soil off the top of the window planter and whisked it inside. Now soil and water covered a good bit of the floor, curtains, and cloth furniture. She stood outside with her hands on her hips and a thin layer of dark soil covering most of her. The waning rays of sunlight shone from behind her, making her appear to radiate white light. Those brief moments seemed to capture so many aspects of her nature—mischievous, playful, funny, innocent, and daring. “Never think you can predict a prankster, Grey,” she yelled through the closed window.
Her Daed eased the hose from her and turned off the spigot. Grey opened the window.
“She has a motto.” Israel studied his daughter, clearly amused. “I don’t agree with it, but you see what it’s like to try to control her.”
“So what’s this motto?”
Israel grabbed the screens to the window. “Things can be cleaned and replaced. Great moments cannot afford to be lost.”
Lennie pointed at Grey’s soaked clothing. “And that was a truly great moment.”
Israel headed for his workshop. “I’ll just put all the screens away until after she’s planted flowers in those boxes.”
Torn between who he should be as a recent widower, his raw doubts about marriage, and what he felt for Lennie, Grey knew why he was sorry he’d told Christian anything about her. He didn’t want him seeing Lennie. He didn’t want anyone having time alone with her.
Not anyone but him. Now how did that make any sense when he’d never have anything more to offer her than the friendship of their childhood?
Twenty-Nine
Deborah drove her rig toward town, passing stores and her bank before arriving at the restaurant. After tethering her horse to a hitching post, she walked across the parking lot. She pushed open the door and was greeted by the rattle of plates and waitresses carrying large trays of food. The smell of bacon and hamburgers added to Deborah’s queasiness. She moved to an empty booth and slid to the middle of the seat.
The streetlights shone brightly against the blackness of night. A few people were walking along the sidewalk, cars stopped at the red light, and a couple of folks crossed the street. Town life had its own pace. Much more bustling than the farm she’d grown up on, and yet, compared to what Cara said New York City was like, it moved very slowly.
Slowly. That’s how she’d let this mess with Mahlon drag out. He’d asked for a few days. It’d now been nine weeks. Nine weeks!
But she knew why she’d let it go on and on. Selfishness. That, and he’d written to his Mamm. The letter had made Ada so happy, so hopeful he might return, that Deborah couldn’t find the strength to say anything to Mahlon that might cause him to leave. And for every week he’d stayed, she’d seen and understood more of who she was, what she wanted from life, and why she’d felt so drawn to him.
The bell on the restaurant jingled, and Mahlon walked in. His hazel eyes lit up as he walked to the booth. “Hi.” He slid into his seat and stretched his hands over hers. “Thanks for coming again, Deb.”
She stared at their entwined hands, hoping the right words came to her.
A waitress set a glass of ice water in front of her. Deborah freed her hands of his and took a sip, trying to settle her nerves. She hated how distant she’d been to Jonathan since the night he kissed her, but what else could she do? At least he’d been gone a fair amount lately with his blacksmith job. Right now he was staying several nights at a farm some twenty miles from here, shoeing a herd of horses.
Mahlon studied her—probably sizing her up and choosing his words.
As a long-distance truck driver, he hadn’t been around all that much either. The absence of both men had given her time to think. When she did meet with Mahlon, he’d poured his heart out to her—promising her everything, including making Ada happy with a houseful of grandchildren.
She dipped her finger in the water and traced patterns with it on the table. Contrary to what she’d thought since Mahlon ran off, she did know him. And he knew her.
He wanted to give up his job as a truck driver and go through the steps to become a member of the Amish community in good standing again. He would return only to be shunned. Knowing that, she understood why he’d wanted time to talk to her before he made everyone else aware of his homecoming.
“I’ve done as you asked, Mahlon.”
She’d listened to every word and taken time to think about them. It all made sense now. He’d felt trapped and overwhelmed. He was having panic attacks, but he couldn’t say what he was feeling, in part because he didn’t know what he was feeling or why. His Englischer friend had offered a way out, and in a state of depression, he’d jumped at it. Now that he was better, he regretted what he’d done. She’d listened. She’d heard. She’d made her decision.
“I sincerely understand why you left, but—”
“No. Don’t say but. You … we need more time. It’s just—”
“Mahlon!” she whispered loudly, elongating his name. Leaving as he did said so much more about him than he could bear to hear. She wouldn’t share too much truth for fear of what it might do to him, but she was finished walking on eggshells for him. “It’s time, Mahlon. I’ve kept your secret. I’ve listened. I’ve met with you. I’ve thought about all you’ve said until I can’t stand to think about it anymore. You’re not interested in letting me decide what I think. You want to make me see you exactly the way you’ve decided I should see you.”
He stared at the table, unwilling to look at her. She hated that habit. He studied her intently when trying to read her, but otherwise he didn’t look up. Truth was, the more time she spent with him, the more things she disliked about him. But Ada loved him, and because of that and because Deborah hurt for the issues he struggled with, she would remain kind and encouraging.
She took a deep breath, wishing he’d make this easier and knowing he wouldn’t. “Now I need you to listen to me. Will you do that?”
“Sure. I’ll do anything for you … for us.” The positive words left his mouth, but dullness reflected in his eyes.
“You’ve spent so much of your life longing for what could have been. If only your Daed hadn’t died. If only you hadn’t seen the Twin Towers fall. If only you hadn’t been born Amish. If only you could get free. You got free, Mahlon. And now you’re thinking if only again. If only you could go back and undo. If only I was yours again. Your return isn’t about you being in love with me. It’s about who you are. I’m part of your new if only dream. I hope you return to the faith, Mahlon. Ada needs her only son in a way I can’t fill. But … the truth is, I’m not in love with you, and what has died between us can never be revived, no matter how much time I give you.”
Tears filled his eyes, and Deborah enveloped his hand in both of hers. He drew her hands to his lips. “How can you be so sure of yourself? I meant everything to you just a few months ago. We can get that back. I know you don’t really trust that right now, but it’s true.”
According to the calendar, he’d been gone almost eight months before he began showing up here again. But it felt like years, based on what she’d learned. Deborah pulled her hands free of his and took a long drink of water. She’d said everything he needed to hear, bu
t he wasn’t listening. “Bye, Mahlon.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“I’m sorry.” She stood, and when he rose, she hugged him tightly. “You take care of you. And don’t spend years wishing for what could have been if you hadn’t left. Find what is and embrace it.”
He looked confused and furious, but thankfully he didn’t say anything. She started to leave and then remembered one more thing. “I won’t keep any secrets for you from now on. If you want to tell your mother you’re back before I do, I suggest you go see her tonight.” She pulled the money out of her pocket that he’d given her since leaving Dry Lake. Laying it on the table, she felt like a piece of her soul had been given back to her. “Take care of yourself.”
She hurried out the door and toward her rig, keeping her eyes on the rugged pothole-filled parking lot. Grief for hurting and disappointing him hovered over her. But she’d been fair. She’d listened and thought and prayed and considered. She hated being unable to help him, but she had no doubts she’d done the right thing for herself.
She glanced up at her buggy.
Jonathan.
He stood under the street lamp directly in front of her rig. He had no smile or warmth. “I got done earlier than expected, and Ada said you’d gone to town.” He scoffed. “I wondered what would make you come to town alone after dark, so I came looking. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
She cringed at the idea of him seeing them through the plate glass window. “Jonathan, it’s—”
He jerked open the buggy door. “Don’t talk to me right now. Just get in.”
She climbed in the passenger’s side. A shudder ran through her when he got in and slammed the door. “I can—”
“How long has he been back?”
“Jonathan, would you please lis—”
“How long?” he interrupted.
She’d never seen him angry. His face held no expression, but the tautness of it seemed as unyielding as iron.
“Two months.”
“Our own people think that if you have any interest in me, it’s only because you can’t have him. They think I’m a fool to be willing to accept whatever part of your heart Mahlon didn’t take with him. The guys call it ‘Mahlon’s leftovers.’”
His insult slapped her, and she gasped. “That’s mean, Jonathan.”
“I’m telling you how it is for me. And I was willing to ignore everyone because I thought they didn’t understand. How many times have you two met?”
“There’s more to it than that. Will you listen?”
“Can’t. Answer my questions first. How many times, Deborah?”
“Six. But he asked me not to say anything for—”
“Mahlon asked and you gave. That absolutely should not surprise me, and yet—”
“Let me explain!” she interrupted.
“More than angry, I’m disappointed. To see Mahlon secretly for any reason—I don’t need to hear your explanations for that. You aren’t who I thought you were.” He stopped in front of Ada’s House. “I’ll put your horse and rig away before I leave.”
She couldn’t believe he’d dismissed her without even listening.
He got out, went around the buggy, and opened her door. He motioned for her to get out.
She didn’t. “I know I was wrong.”
“Good. Then we agree.” He stared at her. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Not telling me was the same as lying. I don’t need to know any more than that. Will he return? Will you give him another chance? Is he asking you to leave with him? Is he just meeting to be friends?” Jonathan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you lied. I’ve played second fiddle to him all my life where you’re concerned, only then I knew it. This time you cheated me of the right to decide.”
Cheated him?
Getting out of the buggy, she found herself almost toe-to-toe with him. She’d been so sure that what she’d done by seeing Mahlon secretly was keep her word to him while discovering her own thoughts and heart. And she’d done her best to get him to rejoin the faith, regardless of whether she took him back.
“I … I didn’t see it as cheating … He asked and …”
“Well, next time he asks, I won’t be around to mind whether you do his bidding.” He sidestepped her and got into the buggy.
“Jon, I … I told him tonight I wouldn’t see him anymore, and I wouldn’t keep his secret any longer either.”
“Do you actually think that’s supposed to make this any better? You deceived me while giving him every chance. And you think that’s a consolation? You have to be kidding yourself, Deborah.”
She’d thought Mahlon abandoning her without warning was the most heart-wrenching experience she would ever go through. That didn’t compare to the ache of losing Jonathan by her own actions.
Lena poured Jonathan a cup of coffee. “Can I tell you what I think?”
He took the mug from her. “No.”
She set the pot on the stove and pulled a pan of muffins out of the oven. He’d jolted her out of bed over an hour ago. Even at seven o’clock, she’d been sound asleep. Had he forgotten how much she loved slow-moving Saturday mornings? It seemed a reasonable perk to being unwed and childless.
They’d been talking for over an hour, and yet he held firm to his unwillingness to listen to reason. She’d seen him angry a few other times, and when he got this way, he stayed there. He’d peppered her with questions, wanting to know if Deborah had told her about Mahlon’s return. Thankfully Deborah hadn’t said a word to her, or Jonathan would be angry at her too. Most of his questions were aimed at trying to figure out if he knew Deborah at all.
Lena spread a kitchen towel over the bottom of a large bowl. “Deborah’s five years younger than you and three years younger than me. She’s cared about and tried to take care of Mahlon most of her life. Maybe she just got caught in a situation she didn’t know how to handle.”
“Do you think she still loves him?”
She dumped the muffins into the bowl and set them on the table. “I’m sure you could learn the answer to that if you’d talk to her.” She held the container of food in front of him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Eat.”
He looked up at her. “In other words, fill my mouth and shut up.”
She heard the front door open and her Daed’s voice as he talked to Nicky.
“Exactly.” She patted his shoulder.
Instead of her Daed entering the kitchen, Grey did. He looked from her to Jonathan.
Her Daed walked in after Grey. “I told you I thought she had company in here.” He smiled. “How ya doing, Jonathan?”
“Good, Israel. You?”
Daed stole a muffin. “Better now.”
Grey removed his hat. “I came to finish the job I started last Saturday.”
Her Daed motioned. “Not before a cup of coffee. Come. Sit.”
His silvery blue eyes held an unfamiliar look as he studied her. Was it possible he cared to some small degree and Jonathan being here bothered him, or did her hopes have her imagining nonsense? She’d told him months ago about missing Jonathan, but she had been clear he had never been a boyfriend or anything. Hadn’t she? In the morning light, with Grey’s presence filling the room, she couldn’t recall.
“No, but denki.” Grey brushed the inside rim of his hat against his pant leg. “I just wanted to warn Lena I was here. I’ll be working outside that window mostly.” He pointed to the kitchen window. “It won’t take long. I made the boxes already. I didn’t have any mesh, but all I need to do is add that and hang them.” He said his good-byes and went outside.
He’d come inside with her Daed, not chancing another episode like they’d had last week. And he’d come to warn her he’d be on the porch and easily able to see inside. A gentleman, to be sure.
But as soon as she connected all those thoughts, a sensation inside her heart tugged, as if cautioning her that she didn’t really know all there
was to know about this man. It was a ridiculous feeling. Lena sat and stirred her coffee while trying to control her impulse to run after him and say things she shouldn’t. Jonathan and her Daed talked about the weather and hunting for pheasants. If she went to Grey and said Jonathan was just a friend, would she totally embarrass herself?
Very likely so.
She could at least speak to him for a bit, maybe hint that Jonathan was just a friend. She stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Her Daed grabbed a pair of work gloves off a shelf near the side door and passed them to her. “He left these last time. And he might think that mesh is in the shed instead of in the greenhouse.”
“I’ll tell him.” With the gloves in hand, Lena hurried out the kitchen door. When she saw the door to the greenhouse open, she went inside. The glow of sunlight through the dome, the metal braces running an arc from one side to the other, the aroma of dirt, and the disarray of bags of soil, pots, and seedlings were a familiar mixture she cherished. She’d been thirteen and he eighteen the last time he’d entered her sanctuary. With scissors in hand, Grey had the bolt of screen spread over a rather messy bench. “I see you found it.”
His movements stopped for a moment, but then he nodded without looking up.
“I … I figured you’d return to finish the job before planting time.”
He made the last snip, freeing one good-sized piece of mesh from its bolt. “Ya, you’ll be ready to plant flowers as soon as the first frost is past.”
She held the gloves up. “Daed went with me to Allen’s Saturday night. He brought these to give to you, but you never came by.”
He put the bolt in the corner where he’d found it. “It’s time I stay closer to home than I have been.”
“He said there needs to be a bridge, and he’d have walked them over.”
Grey flounced the mesh. “I better get done and be on my way.”
Lena held the gloves out to him. When he grabbed them, she didn’t let go. “I … think I may have left you with the wrong impression. See, Jonathan and I … well … he’s just here to talk about his love life. That’s what friends do.”
The Bridge of Peace Page 24