by Amy Lillard
He reached for her hand, unable to stand so close to her and not touch her. Even if just a little.
“We went to the county fair once,” he said, opening his eyes and snagging her gaze with his own. “They had this machine there, like a genie or fortune-teller or something. Anyway, you could ask it a question, and your answer would come out on this printed card. And all for a quarter.”
“Oh, yeah?” Her words were breathless, and he realized that as he had been talking he was rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand.
“I wish I had something like that now. Somewhere I could go and ask what the answer is and it would shoot out on a little card for me to read.”
“I guess prayers don’t come with written answers.” She gave him a quick smile. But in the fading light of the day, it looked a little sad.
“I’ve prayed and prayed about this,” he admitted. “I’ve been hoping from the start that God would give me the answers.”
“And He hasn’t?”
“I’m not sure God has the answer to this.”
“Aaron. You don’t mean that.”
He shook his head. “I don’t. You’re right. But I feel as if every emotion I have is wrapped up in this, and I can’t clearly see the answer.”
“You know what Mammi would say . . . if you can’t find the answer . . .”
“Then there’s your answer,” Aaron finished for her. How many times had he heard her grossmammi say that exact phrase? More than he cared to admit.
“I’m sensing that you don’t see the wisdom in those words this time.”
“Unfortunately, no. But I want to.” He released her hand when the urge to pull her closer still was almost more than he could resist. “I want to, but I’m still concerned. Am I trying to make God’s will my own?”
“By?”
“By staying here and praying that you will stay with me too.”
* * *
Any words Hannah would have said stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard, but they still wouldn’t come. In the waning light, the crickets and katydids began to sing. It was a sound she would forever associate with home.
“Am I rushing things?” Aaron asked.
She shook her head. “It’s not that. There are just so many things . . .”
He sighed and dropped back onto the bench. “There’s a lot.”
She sat down next to him, her own thoughts spinning. It was one thing to talk about the what-ifs and quite another to stare them in the face. “I need to get my mind around this.”
“I guess I just thought—” He broke off, once again staring off at nothing in particular.
But he didn’t need to finish. She knew what he was going to say.
“It’s not that. I just keep thinking about everything else.”
“The church?”
“Yes, and Brandon.”
He nodded.
The church would welcome her with open arms. She would kneel and confess and all would be forgiven.
And what about your son?
“I’ve got to think this through.”
A cloud of concern crossed his face. “I guess it’s not so simple as I love you.”
Just hearing him say those words tore her heart in two.
“I always have,” he continued.
“If it was, we wouldn’t have anything at all to discuss.”
His face lit up with joy and hope. “You love me too?”
“I never stopped. But when Jim told me you were seeing someone else . . .”
“The mistakes we’ve made,” he mused.
“I’ve got a few things to work out,” she told him. To her own ears her voice sounded reluctant.
“I understand.”
Sadly she watched as he stood, then made his way into the house. It was time for her to go home, before it got too dark. As it was now, she would just make it before the sun completely went down. And yet she was still hesitant.
There was no going back, only forward. And she wasn’t sure that was even an option for them. Not unless she came up with some way to keep her son close to her even as she converted back into the church. It was the only way, yet from where she stood it looked more than impossible.
* * *
Hannah dragged her feet as she made her way up the steps and into her parents’ house. The sun had set, night had fallen, and it was beyond dark. That was the excuse she used as to why she walked so slowly. It was definitely better than admitting that she wanted to get back in the buggy, race over to Aaron’s house, and declare that nothing would stand in their way. How she wished that were true!
She collapsed onto the swing, her legs unwilling to take her farther without a rest. She fairly crumpled as she covered her face in her hands, unable to look at the bleak future.
“Hannah girl?”
She pulled her hands away from her face as her father came out onto the porch carrying a small oil lamp. His face was cast into shadows, but still showed his concern.
“Dat.” She gave him a trembling smile, then scooted over a bit so he could sit down next to her.
“I would ask if everything is all right, but I have a feeling the answer to that is no.” He placed the lamp on the side table and eased down beside her.
Everything wasn’t all right. In fact, nothing had been all right since she had left. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. This was no time for tears.
“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” he offered.
The gesture was so unlike her stern father that fresh tears threatened.
“Have you ever heard that Englisch expression ‘You’ve made your bed, and now you have to lie in it’?”
Her father frowned. “Why would you make your bed and then get in it right away?”
Despite the darkness around them, Hannah hid her smile. “It’s an expression. It means you’ve made a mess of things and now you have to live with it.” The absolute truth.
“My dawdi used to always say, you must plow with the horse you have.”
Hannah nodded. It wasn’t quite the same, but close enough. But what did one do with a horse with a foot in two different worlds?
“We all made mistakes, Hannah girl.”
“I know.” Yet knowledge didn’t change a thing. “But I’ve made more than my fair share.”
“Maybe it’s time to let God drive.”
She swiveled around to look at him.
“What?” He shrugged. “I saw it on a bumper sticker at the grocery store.”
Hannah couldn’t hold back her chuckle. “I guess it’s worth a try.”
He patted her knee and stood. “With God in control, who knows what might happen?”
* * *
Let God drive.
Was it really that simple?
Hannah flipped onto her back and tried to get a handle on all the emotions zinging through her. Was it really as easy as letting God handle everything? When was the last time she had turned everything over to Him?
Never. Never in her life had she allowed God complete control. Maybe it was time to turn over the reins, so to speak.
It was well past midnight, and Brandon softly snored from the bed across the room. The room was pitch-black, not even the light from the moon enough to pierce through the veil of night in Amish country.
No one would know if she crawled out of bed, got down on her knees, and prayed. No one needed to know. It would be between her and God.
She slipped quietly from the bed and knelt beside it, bracing her hands on the mattress, much as she had when she was a child.
Lord . . .
Dear Lord, she prayed. I have made so many mistakes in my life. So many I can’t begin to name them all. Could this be because I have not let You be in charge? I don’t know.
She stopped. How long had it been since she had prayed? A long, long time. So long that she didn’t feel like she was praying, but rambling on like a child in trouble might do.
But wasn’t that what she was? A child of
God in trouble?
All of us like sheep have gone astray, Each of us has turned to his own way; But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him.
The verse popped into her head as clearly as if someone next to her had whispered it in her ear.
It didn’t matter how much trouble she had caused; how much she had sinned; the mistakes and trials that she had created. God still loved her and was waiting for her to return.
I surrender all. The words were there in her heart. She remembered the song from those first couple of years when she left the Amish. She had gone to one church and then another, hoping, searching, seeking God. When He was nowhere to be found, she had stopped going. But the song had never left her.
Surrender.
Let God drive.
It sounded so very simple, and yet it might just be the most difficult thing she had ever done.
What was that popular song from a few years back?
“Jesus, Take the Wheel.”
Could she do that? Hand over all control and follow what God put in her heart?
If she was being honest with herself, she had lost control a long time ago. Who was in charge of her life? It certainly wasn’t her, and it most certainly wasn’t God.
“I surrender all,” she whispered. This time when the tears threatened, she didn’t try to wipe them away. She let them fall, let them cleanse her soul, wash away the mistakes, the hurt, the bad decisions, and all the pain.
This wasn’t going to be easy. But she could do it. She could be still and let go. She could be still and let God.
“Lord, I surrender,” she whispered into the night. “Lead the way.”
* * *
It was just a party invitation. There was no need to be nervous or anxious or any of the crazy emotions plaguing her. But she felt all of those and more as she pulled her buggy into Aaron’s drive.
This morning when she woke she felt like a new person. A new person with no answers. She wasn’t certain where God wanted her, but she had promised to open her heart and listen to Him. He would tell her in His own time. She just had to be listening.
The horse headed for the side yard as if she already knew which way to go. Hannah climbed down from the carriage and tethered the mare, wondering if she should start with the house or the barn. She didn’t know a great deal about Aaron’s work life. Did he spend most of his time in the barn? What if he was out at another farm? If he wasn’t home, she would have to gather all her courage and do this a second time. She sighed. Once was already taking a toll on her heart.
Then she heard it, a faint clink coming from the barn. The sound was vaguely familiar, and she realized he was most likely shoeing a horse.
She started for the barn, going over the words in her head. She needed this invitation to be casual, nothing special. She needed him to know that it wasn’t important, that he could come or not, but he was welcome. No big deal.
“Aaron?” she called into the cool interior of the barn. The metallic pounding had stopped, so he must be finished with his job. All she had to do was wait it out.
“Hannah?” He came around the corner, eyes wide.
He looked good—really good. His pale blue shirt made his eyes look even bluer, his dark hair curling from under the brim of his plain straw hat. And as much as it surprised her, she loved his beard. All Amish men were supposed to grow a beard after they got married. It was more than a decree; it was a badge of honor. But just like with other men, some Amish beards were better than others. Aaron’s was full and dark, not a speck of gray. It had just enough curl to it to keep it full, despite the fact that it reached toward his chest. And she found herself wanting to reach out and touch it. Simply feel it.
“What are you doing here?”
“I, uh . . .” Why was she here again? Oh. Right. “I came to invite you to Brandon’s birthday party.”
“Jah?”
“It’s on Saturday.” Why was she rambling? She mentally pulled herself together. “And Andy and the girls, of course. It’s nothing fancy. Just family. And the four of you.”
A spark shone in his eyes, but it disappeared before she had time to fully comprehend it. Maybe she didn’t want to know what it meant. “That sounds like fun.”
She nodded. “We’re cutting the cake at three.”
Aaron smiled, and it took her back fifteen years. Even with that beard and the small wrinkles that fanned out from those amazing eyes, his smile was just the same. And one flash of it could turn her knees to jelly and her insides to oatmeal. “See ya then.”
* * *
Friday and one more “last chance” of seeing Shelly before the weekend.
“Mom.” Brandon half turned in his seat as she drove them into town. Here lately, she had taken to dressing like his grandmother, and he wasn’t sure what it all meant.
Did it have to mean anything?
He wasn’t sure, but he felt positive that it had meaning to them.
When he and his mom had first arrived in Pontotoc, she had worn her jeans and her hair down. Now it seemed she had started wearing a homemade dress and apron with one of those prayer thingies on her head.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t find fault with it. What was the old saying? When in Rome, do as the Romans. Well, this wasn’t exactly Rome, but he thought it applied to other places as well.
She could go back to being Amish, but he couldn’t. Well, he couldn’t go back, because he had never been Amish to start with. But he had a feeling there was more to it than just wearing dresses and caps.
“What’s up?” She still sounded like his mom, and looked like her for the most part.
“About my party tomorrow . . .”
She glanced over toward him, then turned her attention back to the road. “What about it?”
“Well, there’s this girl. I’ve been talking to her at the library. She does her work there too. And, well, I thought I might invite her to the party.”
His mother frowned, but other than that, made no reaction to his request. Was that a good thing or a bad one? He had no idea.
She didn’t respond, just pulled the car into the parking lot next to the squatty brick building. She stopped in the first empty space and put the car into park.
He wasn’t sure if her silence meant anything other than she was thinking about it. Hard.
“Who is this girl?”
“Her name is Shelly. She’s really pretty and smart.”
“Who are her parents? She’s not Amish. Is she Mennonite?”
Brandon shook his head and made a face. “No. She’s not Amish or Mennonite.” He continued to shake his head, then realized his overreaction could be interpreted as negative. “I mean, she’s English, but her parents are very conservative. They don’t have a TV or a computer at home.”
“And she comes to the library?”
“She’s homeschooled. And like me, she has to finish her lessons at the library.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” she muttered.
“What?” He had no idea what that meant.
“Nothing. You want to invite this girl to your party? Does she know that you have Amish family?”
“Yeah. I don’t think she cares about stuff like that. She’s really cool, for a girl and all.” He didn’t want his mother to think he was that interested in Shelly. Even though he was. Kind of.
“I suppose I could talk to her mother. When she drops her off.”
Brandon’s heart lifted. “Yeah? That would be great.” He wouldn’t say anything about the way his mother was dressed. Stuff like that wasn’t supposed to matter anyhow. But the longer they stayed in Mississippi, the more worried he became that they would never leave. He could put aside his electronics for a time, but he was not living his entire life without Xbox.
He just smiled and opened the car door, stepping out into the bright sun. Xbox and electronics aside, this was going to be the best birthday ever.
* * *
Hannah couldn’t say that Shel
ly was anything like she had expected, but she was a nice girl, and her parents seemed not to be concerned about the difference in religious practices. Maybe because Brandon himself was not Amish.
You’re not Amish either.
Hannah looked down at herself in her borrowed Amish frack. She supposed she should have worn Englisch clothes to drive her car into town, but she hadn’t thought about it at the time.
She had begun wearing Amish clothing as a convenience. Yes, the dresses were easier, but she felt it had more to do with past traditions than anything else. It simply felt right to putter around her mother’s kitchen barefoot with her skirt brushing around her ankles. Of course, wearing the dress felt completely alien without the prayer kapp. It didn’t hurt that she saw the light of approval in her father’s eyes. Approval was a far cry from forgiveness, but it was a start.
Hannah pulled her car into the bank parking lot, ignoring the curious looks she got. Aside from the fact that she was sitting alone in a parking lot she was wearing an Amish prayer kapp and driving a car. Of course the good citizens of Pontotoc would have questions.
She parked off to one side and plugged Brandon’s cell phone into the car charger. It took a few minutes, but before long she had enough charge to make her call.
“Lipman and Qualls. How may I help you?”
“Hannah McLean for Mr. Lipman, please.”
“One moment please.”
Vapid elevator music was piped in from the other side of the line, and her heart pounded. Music like that was never a good thing. Something about it made her anxious. Maybe because it was the sort they played in hospital elevators. Everything about it was falsely cheery and set her teeth on edge.
“Mrs. McLean.”
“Hello, Mr. Lipman. I am calling to see if there has been any resolution in my case.”
She heard the sound of papers shuffling coming from his end, then he cleared his throat. “There are still a few accounts that need to be settled. So far the money is holding out, but we have come across an unexpected expense.”
“Unexpected expense?”
“It seems your husband had taken out another mortgage on the house.”
Hannah shook her head. “Another mortgage? But that’s three loans. On the same property.”
“I am aware.”