The Atonement

by Beverly Lewis

  Lucy agreed. “Do you know any of the retailers listed?” she asked, thinking he might, since he was in that line of business.

  “None of them rings a bell. I can certainly do some more poking around.”

  “Kind of you.” She paused and wondered if she ought to bring this up, then went ahead. “Faye mentioned that you’ve started buildin’ your chicken coop.”

  “Yes, and it’s not easy, let me tell you.” Dale also volunteered that he’d returned Abe’s clothing. “When I stopped by, Abe gave me some info on the going price for goats.”

  Recalling Dale’s “new look,” as Clinton had described it, Lucy smiled.

  “I see why the Amish grapevine works so effectively,” he said, grinning and rocking a little. “And I could really get used to these. How hard is it to build a rocking chair?”

  Lucy laughed. “My Dat has the plans, so just ask.”

  “I’ll do that.” He smiled again. “Might be a good idea to build two, though.”

  “Or even more,” she said, mentioning how often her family sat out there together. “I’ve been thinking ’bout doing something special for Kiana,” she added.

  “You already are by helping arrange interviews and encouraging her,” he replied. “And praying, too, which is vital.”

  Lucy had thought he might say that. “Well, I mean something concrete . . . like helpin’ her purchase a used car.”

  Dale stopped rocking, studying her. “You’re really something, you know that, Lucy?”

  She paused, embarrassed at his remark. “I really believe it’s something I’m s’posed to do.”

  He shook his head, clearly taken aback. “Kiana will probably view it as a God-thing, if she thinks along those lines. You’re a witness to the Lord’s loving care.”

  She shrugged, blushing.

  “You are, you know. According to the apostle James, pure and faultless religion is taking care of widows and orphans. That’s straight out of Scripture, and I’d say Kiana and her son fall into that category.”

  Pure religion? Lucy had never heard it stated that way.

  Suddenly, Dale turned. “You know what? We could go looking at some used car lots—I found my pickup at one.” He grinned. “Not that I’d expect Kiana to drive a car that needs a paint job.”

  “I guess if it runs well and has some life in it, she wouldn’t mind. Sure, let’s do that.”

  He asked when would be a good time.

  Lucy was stymied. “I’m busy all week, but after supper Wednesday could work, maybe . . . if it’s not too late in the day.”

  “Better yet, we could pick up something to eat and get an even earlier start.”

  She thanked Dale enthusiastically, thinking of her high hopes for Kiana. It would be wonderful to find something.

  “I’ll come by for you around four o’clock. How’s that?”

  “You’ll be just in time to help gather eggs,” she joked.

  “It’s a deal.”

  Watching him leave, Lucy thought how very fortunate she was to have a friend who was as eager as she to help others.

  Maybe Dale’s the God-thing.

  Chapter 31

  TEN MINUTES HAD COME AND GONE, and little Josh, who was teething, began to cry again from the Pack ’n Play. Lifting him out, Martie quietly carried him to the sink and washed his streaked face. It was all she could do not to splash some cool water on hers, too. Lord, please, I need more patience!

  She dried Josh’s plump cheeks and held him near, her chest wracked with sobs. What’s the matter with me? She had to get control of her emotions before her boys noticed.

  Martie set Josh down, giving him a few favorite toys before hurrying to the washroom to pat her face with a cold, wet washcloth. She looked into the mirror, staring at her reflection. “This is the face of a woman who’s got twins in her belly and is stretched too thin to handle her household duties. Whatever will I do if I’m uprooted to parts unknown come spring?”

  She recalled how shocked she’d been yesterday afternoon when Eppie had told her that Martie’s own husband was among those contemplating a move west. Thus far, Ray had said nothing to her, but Martie guessed it could well be true. Sighing deeply, she realized it was the prospect of leaving her extended family that made her the most blue . . . and fretful.

  She ran the water in the sink, concealing her muffled sobs, and let her tears drip down into the sink, mingling with the water from the faucet. Oh, she couldn’t think of moving, let alone raising twins without the help of her family, especially Lucy.

  Once Martie had cried sufficiently, she returned to the kitchen, where Jesse came and tugged on her dress and offered a hug. Then she began to cook dinner for the noon meal.

  Lucy headed north in a van filled with other Plain women that morning to the Mennonite Central Committee Material Resources Center in Ephrata. The notion of looking for a used car with Dale tomorrow evening made her more hopeful than she had felt in a while. She was also looking forward to working with enthusiastic volunteers today, all of them eager to make a difference for others less fortunate.

  Today would be fun, but she especially enjoyed the annual first Saturday of May workday, nicknamed Chatter, Chow, and Cheerful Service. The day began with worship and fellowship, and everyone brought homemade soup to share—vegetable beef or chicken corn—mixing each kind all together for the noon meal. On that particular day, volunteers worked assembly lines to put together donated items for various kits—infant care, hygiene, relief, school supplies, or sewing. They checked expiration dates and made sure all of the designated items were included before putting them into the handmade drawstring bags. The kits were then packed in boxes to be shipped.

  This morning, however, Lucy was assigned to the room where long strips of donated blue jeans were being recycled into rag rugs to be sold at MCC thrift shops around the country. Lucy thought of Mammi Flaud, who liked to say: “Living simply means buying less, wasting less . . . and wanting less.”

  “Waste not, want not,” Lucy said, smiling as she glanced over at the young Mennonite woman nearby.

  “I heard that growin’ up, too,” the woman replied with a grin.

  Quickly, they exchanged names, and Lucy was soon telling Isabella about the joy she experienced in turning donated items into something usable. “Don’tcha just love to give things a second life?”

  Isabella nodded and said she also liked working on the Christmas boxes to be sent overseas to faraway places like Colombia and Tanzania. “My sisters and I do that together every year,” she said.

  “I should invite my twin sisters to come along sometime,” Lucy said, wondering if perhaps Mamm could occasionally spare them, too.

  ———

  During the midmorning break, Lucy heard Gracie Friesen, a Mennonite woman whom she’d worked with before, talking about a small guesthouse she had for rent. “I’d even consider exchanging rent for housekeeping and cooking and a bit of outdoor work,” Gracie was telling another woman. “Do you know of anyone—maybe a single girl?”

  “Where’s your guesthouse located?” Lucy spoke up, going right over to her.

  “Oh, not so far from the Amish schoolhouse on Gibbons Road, near Bird-in-Hand,” Gracie seemed happy to tell her. “The place is right cozy—only one large bedroom. You’d like it, Lucy.”

  “Well, it ain’t for me.” Lucy took a moment to ponder the consequences, then forged ahead. “But would ya consider renting to a homeless person? She’s a young mother my age with a small child.”

  “Homeless, ya say? An Englischer?”

  “She is,” Lucy admitted. “But I know her well enough to say she’d respect any rules you might require for a tenant.”

  “Well, having someone who doesn’t smoke or drink is one thing my husband and I won’t budge on. What else do you know about her?”

  “She has a darling two-and-a-half-year-old who’s as polite as can be.” Lucy swallowed hard, just thinking about Kiana’s plight. “Kiana’s decision to keep he
r son is why she has no family support.”

  “Aw, the dear girl.” Gracie patted Lucy’s hand. “If she’s anything like you, Lucy Flaud, she’ll be a great fit.”

  Lucy blushed. “I could vouch for her, if she’ll let me. Honestly, I have a strong feelin’ she would work out fine.”

  “When can I meet her?”

  Lucy was so excited, she could hardly keep from grinning. “I’ll find out as soon as I can.”

  “Just drop by—no need to phone ahead, all right?” Gracie wrote out the address on a piece of paper she took from her purse. “This might just be the answer to our prayers.”

  “And mine!”

  “The Lord certainly works in unexpected ways.” Gracie’s smile lit up the whole room.

  Lucy agreed, shaking her head in amazement.

  When break time was up, she found herself working faster than usual, so energized by this prospect, she even caught herself humming. No two days were the same, that was certain. And as far as Lucy was concerned, this was one of the best days in a long time. She could hardly wait to tell Dale the news.

  Is God hearing my prayers, after all?

  Christian didn’t know how to react when Lucy announced that Dale had offered to take her to look at used cars that Wednesday evening. He appreciated Lucy’s willingness to spend her money on a homeless friend but was becoming worried that Dale was showing up fairly often lately. And not to see me, either.

  Sarah hadn’t said a word, but Christian assumed she would at some point, especially if it seemed Dale was pursuing Lucy romantically.

  Thus far, though, Christian hadn’t noticed any signs of familiarity between Lucy and Dale—nothing like what one would expect from a courting couple.

  At least this time won’t be on the Lord’s Day. . . .

  Christian considered talking man-to-man with Dale, yet knowing how respectable a fellow he was, he wondered if it was necessary. On the other hand, Dale was clearly yearning for an uncomplicated life, so maybe he was also looking for a Plain wife.

  Glancing at Sarah, Christian held his peace, saying nothing as Lucy met Dale at the back door. A fellow I’m responsible for bringing into our lives. Have I complicated things?

  He sighed and slipped out to the porch, waiting till the pickup backed out of the lane before wandering out to the stable.

  “Have you ever wanted to learn to drive?” Dale asked as they headed toward the used car lot after stopping for burgers and milkshakes.

  “I considered it, jah . . . several years ago, in fact.” She wanted to be careful how much more she shared about that period of her life. “I was younger, obviously, and inquisitive about the outside world.”

  “I never would have guessed.”

  “Truth be told, I wasn’t always too terribly interested in the Old Ways.” And that’s all I best be saying, Lucy thought, hoping this conversation wasn’t leading her down a slippery slope. The last person she wanted to know about her lack of discretion was an outsider.

  “But you must’ve grown into the Amish tradition at some point,” Dale said, making the turn into the lot.

  “I learned some hard lessons, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, here we are.” Inching slowly along, Dale drove up and down the lines of cars and SUVs.

  “Do ya see any gut choices?” she asked, glad she’d come with an Englischer instead of by van with a hired driver. This way, she might have more bargaining power!

  “We should walk around and read the sticker prices,” he said. “Okay with you?”

  She nodded, hoping he might guide her through the maze of vehicles.

  They wandered about the brightly lit lot, and Dale jotted down three options. It was around that time a salesman came out, shaking their hands and greeting them like they were the only customers he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.

  Later, on the way to a second car lot, Dale warned her to be prepared for the same sort of royal treatment again. “I’m not sure what adrenaline rushes these car salesmen experience, but they tend to come across as very similar, if you ask me.”

  They took longer to peruse the second lot, and by the time they were headed back to Witmer Road, Lucy couldn’t keep all the vehicles straight in her mind. She said she hoped it wouldn’t overwhelm Kiana, as well, but Dale waved his notepad and assured her that one or two would be just right. “If she lands a job soon.”

  “I really appreciate you doin’ this,” she said. “You have no idea what this’ll mean to her.”

  Dale made little of it but was gracious all the same.

  “I have some interesting news,” she said, telling him now about the country guesthouse for rent. “I can’t wait to let Kiana know, but what do you think?”

  “Could be an answer to prayer,” Dale remarked.

  This didn’t happen till Dale joined me in praying, too, she thought, admiring him for taking Kiana’s concerns straight to the Lord last Saturday afternoon.

  “If it’s a go, then Kiana might need only a part-time job for incidentals,” Dale replied. “Especially if she qualifies for food stamps.”

  “Right, and with the car we’re gonna find her, she’ll be in gut shape.”

  Assuming Gracie and her husband accept Kiana as a renter.

  Lucy glanced at Dale. “Does the Lord always answer your prayers so quick?”

  He laughed softly and shook his head. “Not usually, no.”

  She found this interesting, and she couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever gone years without an answer.

  Three years is a mighty long time. . . .

  Chapter 32

  THE HOURS TILL THURSDAY EVENING ticked by, and Lucy could find no reasonable excuse to stay home from the grief support group, especially when her father just assumed she was going again.

  When the time came, Lettie asked why Lucy was tagging along, and Mamm said she was keeping their father company. The answer seemed to satisfy Faye, but Lettie still looked puzzled and studied Lucy hard.

  Sooner or later, I might have to tell them something more, Lucy thought.

  Lucy and Dat said little to each other in the carriage on the way to the community church. Her father parked the buggy near a large tree at the far end of the lot.

  Lucy decided it was a good idea to sit with Sue Kaiser and Janey Marshall, her discussion partners. After all, it made sense to get better acquainted with them, and she felt bad about being rather withdrawn during her first meeting. This week, she was determined to be more receptive, if possible. And going forward, too. The latter thought nearly stopped her in her tracks. Can I see this course through to the end?

  As she and her father entered the church, Dale Wyeth was not in his usual place as the greeter. Instead, an older man from the group shook her father’s hand and smiled at Lucy, welcoming her back.

  Isn’t Dale here? she wondered, feeling a little disappointed.

  ———

  Following the opening prayer, the leader began the lesson for the week, and Lucy braced herself—the loss of a child was painful territory to revisit. Right away, she could see that the theme was as difficult for Linden Hess as for some of the others present.

  Linden talked about the stages of grief he and his wife had suffered following the death of their little girl. “At first we felt it was unfair that our daughter’s life was cut short. Yes, we believed she was with the Lord, but we wished we’d had more time to make memories with her,” he shared, tears welling up. “We had to remind ourselves that God understood—understands—our loss, and we tried our best to communicate this truth to our other children as often as possible. But I can tell you it wasn’t easy.” He paused to remove a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “And it’s still hard, every single day.”

  Linden went on to discuss how critical it was to have family support. “It’s important to talk through your grief.”

  Lucy’s stomach churned. Fighting the urge to bolt, she refused to so much as glance at her father, seated beside Dale,
who’d arrived late.

  Coming tonight was a mistake. Lucy folded her arms, hugging herself—the gathering room suddenly felt chilly. In all truth, she was even more uncomfortable than last week and beginning to feel mentally exhausted. How will I manage?

  But she did her best to listen later when Janey, seated next to her, shared about the death of her four-month-old son to SIDS. Observing the woman’s deep sadness, Lucy could no longer hold back her emotions, and tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Lucy . . . you have such a tender heart.” Sue slipped an arm around her.

  The gesture made Lucy all the sadder. In the midst of this pit of suffering, she’d lost track of where she was, and when she could finally speak, she said quietly, “I’m ever so sorry . . . I don’t want to cause a scene.”

  “Sometimes it helps me to talk about what I’m feeling,” Sue said. “Maybe it’s the same for you.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I’m just not ready.” Besides, she didn’t feel right about airing her dirty laundry to Englischers, no matter how well intentioned they seemed.

  Sue and Janey offered to pray for her right there, but as Lucy reached for her purse and pulled out a tissue, she shook her head. “I do need your prayers . . . just not here. Not out loud.” She thanked them and excused herself, needing some cool air.

  She headed toward the restroom and took a few sips at the drinking fountain, then stepped outside. There, she stood staring up at the starry sky. In the distance, near an old mill, grain dryers buzzed in the evening stillness.

  What am I doing here? Lucy wondered, realizing she had come so close to spilling the full truth about herself.

  She tried to calm down, but all she could think of was the horror she’d felt when Janey spoke of the death of her little one.

  Walking now, Lucy paced off the perimeter of the parking lot several times, remembering that her father liked to stay and fellowship following the benediction. He must not have seen me leave, she thought as she walked to the horse and buggy. She would wait there.