by Beth Wiseman
Kade picked up his cell phone from the coffee table, the flashing red light indicating a message. He’d been avoiding the link to his previous life for days—but he knew that to move forward, he had to take care of what was behind him. He dialed his voice mail. Forty-two new messages. His heart raced, not from anticipation but from dread. To go back to his house, his money, his friends—a term he now used loosely—seemed like a prison sentence. He couldn’t go on living the way he had been. Something had been so amiss in his life, and that something was God.
The heart of the people in Lancaster County was unlike anything Kade had known, and he clung to their beliefs like a drowning man to a life preserver, clutching the one thing that could carry him to safety—a relationship with God and His Son, Jesus Christ. And yet the logical side of his brain continued to reprimand his choices, begging him to rethink this absurd behavior.
Seventeen voice mails were from Monica’s mother, checking on Tyler. He owed Andrea a call and regreted not calling her before now. Plus, he’d never returned Val’s first batch of messages, and now there were eight more from him, all pleading with Kade to call him—once stating that he had something important to talk with Kade about. The rest of the messages were from board members, business contacts, and people representing Kade’s interests on various fronts. He knew he’d shown the irresponsibility of a young teenager, off on a rumpschpringe, as Jonas would call it. And yet, he listened to all the messages, placed the phone back on the table, and chose to talk to no one.
No one on that phone list anyway. He wanted to talk with someone else. “Dear heavenly Father . . .” he began.
Jonas knocked at Lizzie’s door for the third time—resolved that if she didn’t answer, he was going in anyway. To worry was a sin, but it pulled at Jonas like a weight, dragging his spirit down. He needed to know if Lizzie’s current state was his fault. He’d thought he was doing right by Irma Rose not to act on his feelings for Lizzie, but when Lillian said Lizzie wasn’t doing so good, he knew he’d been wrong to abandon her the way he had.
Finally, the door opened, and Jonas was shocked at what he saw. Lizzie’s long gray hair cascaded down around her shoulders. So silky and smooth, Jonas resisted the urge to stroke it with his hand. She looked like she’d been in her blue dress for more than a day or two, and as Lillian had said—the place was a mess. As improper as it was to behold Lizzie’s hair, unbound and flowing freely without the confines of her prayer covering, Jonas suspected there might be bigger issues at hand.
“Lizzie, you all right?” he asked hesitantly from the front porch.
Lizzie stepped back and motioned for Jonas to come in. “Ya, I’m gut, Jonas. Just a bit tired, that’s all.” She sat down on the bench at the kitchen table. “Please, sit down, Jonas.”
Jonas removed his straw hat and hung it on the rack inside the door and studied her for a moment. Didn’t she realize she was missing something? He tugged on the full length of his beard, clamped his lips tight. Then he asked, “Lizzie, do you know that you don’t have your kapp on?” Right away, he wished he hadn’t mentioned it.
She jumped up, bumped her knee on the table, and brought both hands frantically to her head. “Ach, no.” Tears welled in the corner of her eyes. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m so—How could I not know that?”
Jonas wasted no time moving around the table. He placed his hands firmly on each arm and gazed into her eyes. “We won’t tell a livin’ soul ’bout this, Lizzie. I reckon it is just fine.”
“It’s not fine.” She cradled her face in her hands, and Jonas could feel her trembling.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Lizzie, don’t cry.” She felt so tiny pressed against his lanky, thin build. What a pair they made. “I’ve missed you, Lizzie. I’m sorry that—”
She eased him away, turned, and walked out of the room. When she returned, her hair was tucked beneath her prayer covering, her head held high. Jonas wanted to take her in his arms again, but her expression was solemn, and Lizzie didn’t seem excited to see him, the way he’d hoped. But Jonas knew something that would cheer her up. He cumbersomely dropped to one knee and balanced his weight by holding on to the kitchen table.
“Jonas, I think I’ve had a stroke,” she said matter-of-factly, with no regard for Jonas’s obvious intentions. “Maybe you ought not be thinking what you’re thinking, and stand up,” she said in a bossy tone he hadn’t heard from her before. Jonas wasn’t sure he could stand up. His old joints had had one too many trips to the bended-knee position today. “Get up, now,” she demanded.
He eyed her with amusement. Lizzie was trying her best to look tough, but she looked downright silly to him. “Lizzie, what do you think you’re doing?” he said, still on bended knee, one hand resting on the kitchen table.
“What do you mean?” She cupped her small hips with her hands.
“Why are you trying to be all tough and mean when you ain’t got a mean bone in that tiny body of yours?” He grinned.
“Did you hear what I said, Jonas? I think I’ve had a stroke. I’m not sure, but somethin’ ain’t right in my mind.” She took a deep breath, then lifted her head a little higher. “I reckon that’s what happens when a person has a stroke. I remember when it happened to Anna Mae last year. She got all crazy in the head.”
“What’s all that got to do with me being down here on this floor like this, and you trying to be all . . . whatever it is you’re trying to be?” He groaned a bit, but kept himself in proposal position.
She shook her head. “I never want to be a burden on anyone.” Jonas bellowed out a hearty laugh.
“Do you find this funny?” She pressed her thin lips together.
“Lizzie,” he began, “I don’t know what’s goin’ on half the time, so I reckon it’d be a fair shake as to who’d be a burden to who. Don’tcha think?” He groaned.
“Jonas, maybe you should get up from there.”
“I’ll get up when I’m gut and ready, when I’ve tended to my business,” he grumbled.
Jonas straightened his back as best he could and gazed into her eyes. “Lizzie, I want you to marry me, move in over with me and Sarah Jane, where we can tend to ya.”
Her big, brown eyes went wild with fury—almost rabid, like his old hound dog years ago. She was as frightful a woman as he’d ever seen. “Is that a yes?” He cowered backward a smidgen. “I don’t need no one tending to me!” she hollered. “Why would I want to marry a man just so he could tend to me? That’s as wrong a reason as I can think of, and—”
“Lizzie!” he snapped.
She closed her mouth and waited for him to speak.
Jonas drew in a deep breath. “Woman, don’t you know how much I love you? After Irma Rose died, I never expected to love another, Lizzie.” He paused, seeing her eyes soften. “But I do, Lizzie. I love you. I love the time we spend together. I’m at my best when I’m with you. And you’d do this old man an honor by becoming mei fraa and growing old with me.”
“We’re already old,” she said smugly. “And what if I’ve had a stroke? What if my mind is going? What if it’s something else?” Jonas snickered. “Lizzie, I’m not even sure I can get up off this floor of yours, and who knows if I’ll drop dead tomorrow. I got the cancer, ya know. And we already know I don’t be remembering things so gut these days. But I say we go nuts together and make the best of it.”
It warmed his heart to hear Lizzie laugh. “You’re a silly old man, huggy bear.”
“That’s what they tell me, that daughter and granddaughter of mine. So what do you say? Wanta get married to this silly old man?”
“Oh, Jonas. Yes.” Her voice bubbled with joy.
He was tickled by her reaction, but there was another issue at hand. “Lizzie.”
“Ya?”
“I can’t get up.” Jonas tried to push his weight upward, but the pain in his legs was unbearable.
“Here, let me.” Lizzie wrapped her arms underneath his and pulled with all her tiny
might.
Slowly, Jonas rose to his feet, amid all the crackling in his joints and bones. “And I don’t see no reason to wait until November to get married either.”
“Folks will expect us to wait till after the fall harvest,” she said.
Jonas grinned. “I don’t know ’bout you, but I ain’t got a fall harvest.”
“Oh, Jonas,” she said again, her eyes twinkling.
“Now, that’s my Lizzie,” he said, and then wrapped his arms around her.
“And you’re my huggy bear.”
She pulled back a little and looked up at him. “Who will you have to stand with you?”
Jonas thought for only a moment. “I reckon it should be Samuel.”
“That’s lovely, because I am going to ask Lillian to stand with me. How sweet to have husband and wife!”
He couldn’t help but smile at Lizzie’s girlish enthusiasm. He was feeling a tad giddy himself. “Not one of your kin?” he asked after a moment.
“They are gut girls, my nieces, but I hardly ever see them. Your granddaughter has always checked on me regularly, her and Sadie both.” She paused. “I hope Sadie finds happiness in Texas, but I’ll sure miss having her here in Lancaster County. Such a gut girl.”
“Sadie is special,” Jonas said fondly.
“Jonas?” Lizzie’s enthusiasm floundered a bit. “Do you reckon I’m losing my mind? I’ve never forgotten to wear mei kapp.” She lowered her head.
Jonas lifted her chin gently with his hand. “Lizzie, there ain’t no shame in gettin’ old, and I don’t think you’re losin’ your mind.” He chuckled. “No more than I am. But I do think we need to have Noah take a look at you. If you be forgettin’ things, might be easy to fix.”
Lizzie glanced around at her house, and Jonas felt sorry for her, knowing she was embarrassed, but not wanting to say anything.
“I’ve been so tired, Jonas,” she said softly as she eyed the dishes in the sink.
He pressed his palm to her cheek. “We’ll help each other grow old. We’ll do it together.”
Lizzie smiled and molded herself into his arms.
Kade looked at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. One more week. That’s all he’d signed on for—three months. Jonas told him that Bishop Ebersol sold Sadie’s farm right away to Lester Lapp, who’d agreed not to take possession until Sadie returned to collect her things, which wouldn’t be until he and Tyler were gone.
Sadie loves this place, Kade thought, as he stood staring at the calendar. But she must love Milo more. He fought the bitterness that continued to creep into his soul when he thought of Sadie playing house with Milo in Texas.
Tyler was on the floor, playing with his letters, so Kade allowed his mind to drift into a world where his thoughts were clean and pure, a place with no worry, no deadlines, no distrust, fear of failure, fear of death, fear in general—a world where God sat beside him as a good friend and mentor. A world like he’d found here in Lancaster County.
But he had a home, and soon he’d be leaving to go there. Somehow, he needed to bottle up everything he felt here and take it with him. He and Tyler were certain to have great challenges when they returned. Tyler seemed to have settled into the routine of life here. His tantrums were still a daily occurrence, but Kade was learning, and together they would make it through the transition. Guilt at his own absence from the boy’s life still stabbed at his heart, but that was slowly being replaced by a love that Kade had never known.
His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the door. Tyler beat him to the door and wrapped his arms around Jonas’s legs.
“Here’s mei boy,” Jonas exclaimed like a proud grandfather. Kade knew Jonas was going to miss Tyler.
Jonas walked in the door, the way any good friend does, and helped himself to a seat on the tan chair next to the couch. A light jazzy mix resounded from the small radio. “Sounds like craziness, that music.” He removed his hat and looped his thumbs through his suspenders.
Tyler resumed his position on the floor, and Kade sat down on the couch and propped his white socks on the coffee table. “It’s jazz,” Kade said. Then he shook his head. “That’s one thing that would be difficult to give up if I stayed here.”
“We both know that ain’t possible,” Jonas said with conviction.
“Why do you do that, Jonas?”
Jonas innocently raised his brows. “What’s that?”
“You act as if I could never make the necessary sacrifices to conform to your life. How do you know that? After all the conversations we’ve had, you know me pretty well, and you know what a mess my life has been. Why do you assume I could never be happy here?”
“Could you be? Happy here, that is.”
Kade was suddenly stumped. Usually, Jonas held firm to the conviction that Kade’s staying was not an option. “I’m happy here now.”
“Because you’re on vacation,” Jonas said. “But a man like you doesn’t exchange the things you have for our way of life.”
Kade thought long and hard before he spoke. “Jonas, I’ve been a wealthy man my entire life. Money, possessions, great business success—I’ve had it all. And yet, I don’t have an ounce of the peace of mind you have. And those material gains are no longer alluring to me, and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure they ever were. It’s all I ever knew. Had I not come here for a reprieve from my life, I’d have never known this way of life even existed. So, I really don’t think it’s fair for you to judge my intentions.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Judging you?”
Kade eyed Jonas curiously. This was the wise man he’d grown to love, pressing him in ways that often confused him. “Yes, I think you’re judging me.”
“Then stay,” Jonas said, his face somber.
“What?”
“You heard me, my Englisch friend.” Jonas remained serious, his eyes fused with Kade’s. “Just stay.”
It became apparent: Jonas was going to miss Kade as much as Kade was going to miss the old man. “But I—” It was a fantasy to think about living here, and the reality didn’t align with the dream. Although he feared leaving Paradise might kill him, he knew he didn’t have a choice. “I have responsibilities that I’ve ignored for too long,” he finally said.
Jonas was quiet for a moment. “Kade, I reckon you’re gonna find that you’re not the same man you were when you arrived here.” He paused, stroking his beard. “But the things you have learned here, along with your renewed relationship with our Lord—this feeling of wholeness—you can have it anywhere. There is no reason you can’t live your life among the Englisch with a new sense of freedom. You’ll take it all with you, Kade. God is not geographically prejudiced, presenting Himself more to us than those out in the rest of the world. You can seek Him out from anywhere. His Holy Spirit dwells within you.”
Why was it, when Jonas spoke to him like this, that Kade had a hard time controlling his emotions? “You don’t know how much I’d like to just never go back, Jonas.” He paused and fought the unwelcome tremor in his voice. “I’m afraid, Jonas—I’m afraid that the world out there”—Kade swung his hand toward the door—“will suck the life out of me again—will steal my will and all that I’ve gained here.”
“You still have much to learn,” Jonas said. “Fear hinders a man. Once you stop being afraid, your life will change in ways you’ve never imagined. Fear keeps your heart closed and prevents the Lord from reaching you.”
“Are you scared, Jonas? I mean, the cancer and all.”
“I’m human, Kade. I’d be lying if I said that leaving my loved ones didn’t cause me pain. Chances are, I’ll never see the child that Lillian carries grow much past a toddler, if that much. I worry about leavin’ Lizzie, how she’ll be when somethin’ happens to me. It worries me to leave Sarah Jane, Lillian, and the rest of the people I care about, even though worry is a sin.” He paused. “I am human. But am I afraid of death? The answer is no.”
They sat quietly for a few moments
. Then Jonas said, “I came here to tell you some news.” He grinned. “Me and Lizzie are getting married.”
Kade shot Jonas an instant look of approval. “Jonas, I think that’s great.”
“We ain’t farmers with harvests to tend, so I reckon we’ll be gettin’ married next month. The twentieth of April is the day we picked. Sure would mean a lot to us—to me—if you could be here.”
Kade was deeply touched. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said.
“I know it’s a long way to travel, but sure would be gut if you could bring Tyler.”
“We’ll do our very best to be here.”
Kade’s cell phone began to ring. “The closer it gets for me to leave, the more this thing rings.” He reached for the phone, pushed the End button, and tossed it back on the table. “That cell phone is one thing I wouldn’t miss if I lived here.”
Jonas stood up. “See you for supper? Sarah Jane is makin’ meat loaf.”
“That sounds great.” Kade walked Jonas to the door.
Sadie hung up the phone in Martha and John’s barn. She didn’t leave a message. She wasn’t even sure what she would have said if Kade had answered. But she felt compelled to make the call, hoping that Kade would say something, anything, to cause her to return to her home, to a place in his arms, to the fantasy world she created of them sharing a life together.
In reality, if he had answered, she would have probably told him that she was happy in Texas, and that she was merely calling to check on Tyler.
But happiness was not the emotion that overflowed from Sadie’s heart, particularly after what Milo had told her, “Bishop Ebersol left a message, Sadie. Good news. Your farm has been sold.”
She fought back the tears building in the corner of her eyes, looked up to heaven, and begged God to give her the strength to stay on the path He has chosen for her.
Sadie knew she should be counting her blessings, but Milo’s words kept ringing in her head like gongs of forthcoming doom.