by Beth Wiseman
David shuffled his feet, unable to look at either of them and embarrassed that perhaps he had misunderstood part of his diagnosis for all these years. He lifted his eyes to his father. “But it could fail.”
“Ya, it could.” His daed stepped closer and put a hand on David’s shoulder. “But you can’t live your life in fear of that, David. Trust in the Lord to keep you healthy. Why do you think we invest in all these medications? That’s what keeps your kidney functioning the way it’s supposed to.”
David’s stomach rolled. The word invest caused an instant speculation. “What do you mean, invest?”
His father pulled his hand from David’s shoulder, then waved it in the air. “That was a poor choice of words.”
“Exactly how much do all those pills I take cost?”
Lillian dried her hands on her apron. “It doesn’t matter, David. They are necessary, and your father is right. Your kidney is doing great. There’s no reason for you not to live a perfectly normal, happy life. I’m so, so sorry if you misunderstood when you heard us talking.”
“You were crying.” David turned to Lillian.
“Ya, I was.” Lillian let out a heavy breath. “Even the thought of losing you at a young age is upsetting, David, but in your case, it is highly unlikely. You are doing great!”
“I’m going to go take a bath.” David turned to leave.
“David.”
He swung around at the sound of his father’s sharp tone.
“Ya?”
“Life is just risky. You never know what might happen. We can’t live in fear of the unknown, and we must trust that God’s will shall be done.”
“I do trust God’s will. And if it’s His will that my kidney shouldn’t last, I won’t put anyone through that. I’m not getting married. Ever.”
As David marched up the stairs, he thought about all the medications he was taking and what it must be costing.
Is that why we moved?
His heart sank at the thought.
Sixteen
EMILY GLANCED AT DAVID, WHO STOOD ON THE OTHER side of Martha several feet away. Ever since she’d spoken to Lillian, Emily was clear in her mind that David just didn’t care enough about her to pursue anything more than friendship. He didn’t know about her attack, so that wasn’t his reason. Emily figured he liked her, cared for her . . . just not enough.
“I cannot believe we are having a funeral for a bird,” Jacob whispered in Emily’s ear.
“Be quiet. This is important to Martha.” Emily straightened as she waited for the funeral to begin. A lovely spot beneath a large oak tree in Martha’s backyard had been chosen as the final resting place. Arnold had arrived early, like Emily, and he had already dug the grave and cleared the snow in an area large enough for everyone to gather. The temperature was unseasonably warm, almost forty degrees, and the sun shone bright.
Jacob leaned closer to Emily again as more people gathered around. “Why is there a nun here?”
“She’s a friend of Mr. Becker’s. Her name is Sister Catherine from the Catholic church in Alamosa. It was either her or Bishop Esh, and I wasn’t about to ask Bishop Esh to offer prayers for a bird’s memorial service. We haven’t lived here that long. He’d think I was crazy, no?”
The elderly nun walked over to where Emily was standing, her face solemn but a hint of amusement showed in the wrinkles around her eyes. “When Arnold asked me to do this, I was certainly willing. But I must tell you, I’ve never led prayer for a deceased bird. I’m not even sure what to say.”
“Just say Elvis was nineteen years old,” Emily told her. “He has been Martha’s companion—don’t say pet—for nineteen years. He was a wonderful friend.” Emily shrugged. “I don’t know, Sister Catherine. Something like that, I guess. Danki for doing this.”
Sister Catherine returned to her place next to Martha, who was dressed in all black: knee-length dress, a long overcoat, gloves, and a hat with a chest-length veil in front. Both hands were filled with tissues, and she alternated blowing her nose and dabbing her eyes. Arnold was at her side.
Emily glanced around at all those present. Both her parents, Jacob and Beth Ann, Levi, Betsy, all of the Stoltzfuses except Katie Ann, and Arnold. It was the best Emily could do, and Martha seemed pleased.
Emily’s father stood on Emily’s right. “What exactly are they burying that bird in?” Daed had cupped his hand around his mouth to keep his voice from carrying.
“It’s a gold-plated casket that Martha picked out for Elvis.”
“I’m not surprised. She can afford it,” her father said with a light chuckle, although Emily didn’t understand why he would say that. Martha’s home was larger than most in the community, but she seemed to live a fairly modest life. She drove an old automobile, and her clothes weren’t all that fancy. Of course, Emily had certainly been surprised when she saw the bird’s casket, complete with a purple, velveteen lining.
Jacob leaned close to her other ear. “I think Martha should have chosen a closed casket. That bird is looking a little rough.”
“Be quiet, Jacob.” Emily stomped her foot lightly. “Have some respect.”
“It’s a bird, Emily.”
Emily ignored him. She could feel David’s eyes on her, but she was afraid to look his way. She was wondering if Lillian told him about their conversation, as she’d said she would. She’d probably told David everything Emily had said—how much she liked him, how she didn’t understand why he was so standoffish. The thought just embarrassed Emily to death. She also couldn’t help but wonder if Lillian explained Emily’s true intentions to David, how the only reason she’d asked is because she felt unworthy after her attack. Now she wondered again, did David know about what had happened to her?
She sighed and reckoned none of it mattered anyway. David hadn’t known about her attack before Emily talked to Lillian, so that part of the equation never played a part in him not wanting to be more than friends. But every time she recalled the kisses they’d shared, her heart filled with regret. She glanced his way, and he discreetly pointed a finger at her.
“I need to talk to you later,” he mouthed.
She nodded as her heart filled with dread. He was upset with her for talking to Lillian about their personal business. She didn’t really blame him.
Sister Catherine cleared her throat. “We are all gathered here to pay our final respects to Elvis.” She glanced at Emily, as if needing some encouragement. Emily nodded in her direction. “Elvis was Martha’s favorite pet.”
Emily cringed. I told you not to say pet. She looked at Martha, who’d abruptly stopped crying. The scowl on her face was frightening.
“Elvis was much more than a pet, though. He was Martha’s friend, her companion, for nineteen years.”
Emily breathed a sigh of relief and was glad to see Martha’s expression soften a little bit beneath the thin black veil. Martha shoved the tissues from one hand to the other, then she reached for Arnold’s hand. It was sweet the way they seemed to have found each other in the second half of their lives. Emily glanced at David again. He was staring at her, and it made her very uncomfortable.
“Elvis was—was loved by all, and—and I know we will all miss him.”
Emily elbowed Jacob when he started to chuckle.
“Who got all these flowers?” Emily’s father whispered in her ear as he nodded to the dozen or so arrangements surrounding the small hole where Elvis would be put to rest.
“I know it’s not our way, the flowers, but it’s the Englisch way. I guess Martha and Arnold got the flowers. I really don’t know,” Emily answered in a whisper.
Martha plucked two red roses from a nearby floral arrangement and placed them on top of Elvis’s body. She narrowed her eyes at Arnold, who quickly did the same. Then her eyes shot directly to Emily. When Emily didn’t respond right away, Martha flipped her veil up, a frown on her face. Emily closed the gap between her and Martha, plucked two roses from a nearby vase, and walked toward the casket. She no
dded at her mother, who was standing on the other side of her father. With much hesitancy, the entire crowd slowly retrieved flowers and placed them on top of Elvis until you couldn’t even see him, which Emily thought was a good thing.
Martha watched as Arnold closed Elvis’s casket, then lowered the bird into his grave. Everyone stayed until the casket was covered with dirt and Martha faced the crowd and said, “Now, let’s eat!”
Emily grinned. Some things about Martha were exactly the same. As it should be.
Martha walked over to Emily and pointed a painted fingernail in her direction. “I hope you had one of your people bring creamed celery, like I asked you to.”
Emily nodded. “Ya, Mamm made it fresh this morning.”
After the meal and clean up, people began to disburse to their buggies, and Emily took a peek out the window to see if David had come in a separate buggy from his family. Yep.
She rounded the corner from the kitchen to the den to ask her mother if they were ready to go, and as fate would have it, she bumped right into David.
“You ready?”
“Where are we going?”
“To have a talk.”
Emily couldn’t read his expression. “Are you going to yell at me about something?”
He grinned. “Why, have you done something bad?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t think so at the time, but now I’m not sure.”
“Tell your folks you’re going for a ride with me.” David reached for his coat, which was laid across the back of the couch.
Emily leaned closer and whispered, “Are you sure? Someone might think we’re dating, and we don’t want that.”
He scowled, then headed out the door.
Emily found her mother, begged her not to make a big deal out of the ride with David, then found her own coat and bonnet. She walked outside and was still buttoning her coat when David opened the door for her to crawl into the buggy.
He didn’t say anything until they were on the main road. “That was a first for me. A bird funeral.”
Emily smiled, but her insides churned. “Me too.”
“Don’t look so scared, Emily. I’m not going to scold you about anything.”
Emily didn’t look at him. “You’re mad because I talked to Lillian, aren’t you?”
“No. I’m not mad. I’m just wondering why you didn’t talk to me instead.”
She bit her bottom lip and didn’t say anything.
David took the next right, then pulled into the driveway of what appeared to be an abandoned home. “No one lives here, so this will be a gut place to talk.” He parked the buggy, then turned to face her. “Emily . . . I like you.” He waited a few moments, then added, “A lot.”
Emily looked down at her lap, knowing her cheeks were bright red, and her heart was thumping much too fast. David cupped her chin and gently raised her head until their eyes were locked. “And, ya, Lillian did tell me that you are wondering why I can’t move forward, even though I care about you. A lot. It wouldn’t be fair to you, and I don’t want to hurt you any more than you’ve already been hurt.” He glanced at her scar, and she reached for it. He grabbed her hand in midair, then intertwined his fingers with hers. As he’d done in the past, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I do care about you. Very much.”
Emily’s mind was alive with thoughts and speculations. If Lillian hadn’t told David about her attack, then someone must have. It was the only thing that made sense. She was good enough to be friends with, to sneak kisses with here and there, but not good enough to date or pursue for possible marriage. She pushed him away, then opened the door and got out of the buggy.
She walked briskly across the packed snow, knowing she was about to cry, the sunlight blinding her on the way. There was an abandoned home to her right and two barns to her left. She just kept walking, not sure which way to turn, where to look, what to do. It wasn’t long before she felt David wrap an arm around her waist. He spun her around to face him. “Are you going to let me finish?”
She pushed him away. “I don’t need you to finish! I already know what you’re going to say. I’m gut enough to be your friend, David! And you like me . ..” Tears began to stream down her face, and she covered her face with her hands. “But I’m not gut enough to date. I’m not gut enough to ever consider a future with because I’m ruined for marriage.” She dropped to her knees in the snow. “That man robbed from me everything that a husband should expect to have in a fraa. He stole from me! I knew you’d find out, so you see . . .” She looked up at David but saw only a watery image of his face. “I already know, David.” She sat back on her heels and hung her head. “I know why you don’t want to be with me.” Her shoulders drooped. “So let’s both stop pretending you don’t know.”
David knelt down beside her, then reached one arm under her legs and wrapped his other arm around her waist. He lifted her up with ease, and she buried her head in his chest and sobbed. Tears blinded her eyes and choked her voice. He carried her all the way to one of the old barns, kicked open the door, and bent over to set her on an old bench against the wall. Kneeling in front of her, he reached over and brushed away her tears with his thumbs. Then he kissed her, more tenderly than he ever had in the past, cupping the back of her neck.
“You don’t know anything, Emily Detweiler.” He brushed away loose strands of hair from her face as she tried to catch her breath. “I fell for you a long time ago. And it didn’t take me long at all to figure out what must have happened to you.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose. “And your thoughts are all wrong.” David stopped touching her and dropped his hands to his sides. He looked down, his fists clenched. “I’ve prayed to keep away the thoughts I have about whoever did this to you.” He looked up at her. “But Emily, I don’t think any less of you. I just hate that someone hurt you. And I don’t want to hurt you.”
Emily sniffled. “Then why don’t you want to date me?” It was bold, but she wanted to know. Am I not pretty enough? Not smart enough?
“I don’t want to date anyone.” He took a deep breath. “But you are making it very hard for me to stick to that.”
“Please talk to me, David. Please.” This time it was Emily who reached up and cupped his cheek. “Please.”
He grabbed her hand and pushed it closer to his face, then he closed his eyes. When he opened them, she felt hopeful that she would finally know what was going on inside his head, but when she saw his eyes glaze with tears, she wasn’t sure. She pulled him into a hug, and for what seemed like forever, they just held each other.
“Five years ago I had a kidney transplant.”
Emily eased away from him, looked into his eyes, and waited. The smell of old hay filled her nostrils and sunrays shone through a small window to her left. Aside from the bench, some scrap wood, and a few rusty tools, the barn was empty. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
David spent the next hour explaining his operation to her, how his shunned uncle had given him a kidney and had been welcomed back into the family, and how he’d feared he wouldn’t live a full life.
“It wasn’t until yesterday, when I talked to Daed and Lillian, that I realized that maybe I misunderstood some things.”
“So . . . there’s no reason why you won’t live to be an old man.” Emily smiled.
“I prayed about it a lot last night, and I’ve decided that I must accept whatever is God’s will.” He paused, frowned. “But someone else shouldn’t have to take the risk that my kidney might fail in five or ten years.”
Emily looked down and whispered, “I would give you one of mine.” She looked up in time to see David blink back a tear.
“There’s one other problem, though.”
Emily waited, thinking that they had already covered quite a bit of ground in the land of troubles. What else could there possibly be?
“I have a feeling that my medications are putting a hardship on my family. I’m even wondering if maybe that’s why we moved. It’s the only thing t
hat makes sense to me now. We all loved Lancaster County.” He paused. “I was planning to go back there as soon as I saved enough money, but the sacrifices my family made for me . . . well, it makes me want to stay here and help my family build that old place into something really nice. Lillian and the girls deserve that. I even thought about not taking the medicines—”
Emily grabbed his arms. “You can’t do that! You said you need the medicines to live!”
“I know. I know. And it would be like suicide, wrong in the eyes of God. So, instead, I’m going to work extra hours at the furniture store and help my father as much as I can to ready our home. This is where I belong.”
Emily bit her bottom lip. “And we’ll continue to be friends?”
David smiled. “Unless you’re willing to take a chance on me being around for a long time?”
She threw her arms around him. “I am.”
When he eased out of the hug, he said, “Emily, I won’t have a lot of time for dating, though. I want to help my father. I said I’d help build the schoolhouse, and some day . . . well, I’d like to be able to have a place of my own. I’m going to have to work really hard.”
“I understand.”
“But I’d be honored to date you, if you’d be interested in doing that.”
Emily smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
VERA WAITED UNTIL everyone had left Martha’s before she walked into the den with the shoebox under her arm. Levi and Betsy had caught a ride home with Jacob and Beth Ann, Arnold had taken Sister Catherine back to the convent, and Elam was sitting on the front porch waiting for Vera to “do the dirty deed,” as he called it.
“Martha?” Vera approached Martha, who sat very still in her chair. She was still dressed in her mourning clothes, but she did have her black lace veil pushed back over the top of her hat. “I need to give this back to you.” She pushed the box toward Martha. “We cannot accept something like this.”
Martha rolled her eyes, which Vera thought was very rude.
“Why would you give us a box of money for Christmas?”
Martha scratched her nose, then sniffed. “You folks have everything I don’t have. Faith. Hope. Love. Family.” She raised her brows. “And I have something you don’t have. More money than I’ll ever need in the lifetime I got left.” She shrugged. “I thought it might help build your schoolhouse.”