“It must be hard not to have any pictures to remember her by,” she said, resting her chin in her hands. She glanced back and forth between Samuel and David. “I don’t like that rule.”
“I remember exactly what she looked like,” Samuel said softly and in a tone she seldom heard him use. He seemed a million miles away with thoughts of Rachel.
Lillian’s stomach twisted. For all her honest efforts to keep a healthy distance from Samuel, the thought of him having loved someone that much bothered her immensely.
“Ya, me too,” David said, lost in the same world as Samuel.
“But wouldn’t it be nice to have a picture of her?”
Both of them looked at her like she was crazy.
“We have a picture of her,” Samuel said. He pointed to his head.
“It’s not the same.” She shook her head and paused. “When I have children, I want to have pictures of them growing up.”
“It’s not our way, Lillian,” Samuel said, as if there was no room for further discussion.
“Do you want kinner?” David asked with a keen interest.
“Lots of them.” She loved children. “And I’m going to be a much better mother than my mother.” The mention of children caused her to reflect on her students at Northbrook High. She’d regretted having to leave her teaching job.
“I don’t think she did such a baremlich job,” David said.
Lillian nudged her shoulder against his and smiled. “Danki, David.”
“I think you’ll make a fine mamm.” David glanced at Samuel. “Don’t you, Pop?”
Samuel looked uncomfortable. “I’m sure she will,” he said.
Lillian found the awkward way he made the remark touching.
She is so good with David.
There was no doubt in Samuel’s mind Lillian would be a good mother someday. It was hard for him not to occasionally fantasize about a life with her. With each passing day, he found her more beautiful and more interesting. He’d allowed the occasional fantasy to float around in his head, but he always followed it up with a dose of hard reality. Lillian usually did or said something to remind him of their many differences or brought up one of the Amish “rules” she didn’t agree with. She seemed to be going through all the motions by learning the Ordnung, attending worship, studying the language, reading the Bible, and following community traditions. It was just a mighty big change for her, and he had serious doubts she’d choose a life in their world. Her ideas about pictures were a good example.
“Why did your mamm leave here?” David asked.
“David!” Samuel said, reprimanding the boy. “That’s schnuppich.” He knew it was a painful subject for Lillian.
“No, it’s not snoopy,” she said, pausing. “I don’t know why she left. I think something happened, though. Something big that no one wants to talk about.”
“Like what?” David pushed.
“David,” Samuel warned. The boy should have no interest in such things. Plus, the look on Lillian’s face told him that her bubbly spirit was taking a nosedive.
“I don’t know.” Her lips folded into a frown. But, in a forced effort, she sat up a little straighter and smiled. “And I’m starting not to care. She made her choices, and I’m making mine.”
Her statement was strong, but Samuel knew it wasn’t true. She cared a lot.
Lillian walked Samuel and David to the buggy, as had become the norm each time they came for supper. David always needed to go back into the house for something—either to go to the bathroom or because he’d forgotten his hat or needed a drink of water. It was always something, and he wasn’t fooling anyone. Lillian could see right through his forgetfulness and last-minute potty breaks. His intent was for her and Samuel to spend a few minutes alone. And she had to admit: it was a welcomed gesture on young David’s part.
This night in particular, David stayed gone longer than usual. Maybe it was the full moon, or maybe it was the way Samuel was looking at her, but Lillian’s heart was bursting with emotion. Despite their initial attraction, they’d pushed impure thoughts aside and a special friendship was blossoming. She was just about to tell him how much she enjoyed their weekly suppers when he hit her with a piece of news.
“I know staying for supper has become a regular thing on Wednesdays,” he said, sounding hesitant to continue. “But next week David and I will be eating supper elsewhere.” His gaze shifted from her to David, who was slowly making his way back to the buggy.
She was disappointed, but tried not to sound as let down as she felt. “All right,” she said, and then added, “But you know you’re always welcome to change your mind.”
“Change his mind about what?” David asked as he walked into earshot.
Samuel crawled in the buggy and shut the door, motioning for David to do the same thing. “I was just telling Lillian how we wouldn’t be havin’ supper here next week.”
David let out a big sigh. “Ya, we have to have supper with Sadie Fisher.” He shook his head in obvious disappointment, but Lillian doubted his unhappiness equaled her own sense of displeasure.
No wonder Samuel hurried into the safe haven of his buggy; probably afraid of her reaction. The thought of him having supper with anyone other than her—much less Sadie Fisher— was a hard blow. But she kept her thoughts to herself. She and Samuel weren’t courting. How could she justify such jealous thoughts?
“It’s even worse we have to go on a picnic with her the next Saturday,” David said as he frowned and continued to shake his head.
“What? A picnic?” she asked, foregoing her plan to keep her thoughts to herself. “How cozy,” she added sarcastically, shooting a look of disapproval at Samuel.
“She kept asking to cook for me and the boy,” Samuel said defensively, “so I finally accepted her kindness.” He shrugged, signifying he owed her no further explanation.
Kindness? There was nothing kind about it. She bit her tongue so hard it hurt. When she didn’t respond, Samuel added fuel to the fire.
“The elders think I should at least give courtin’ Sadie a try. So she’s cooking supper for me and David next week. And we’re going on a picnic the following Saturday.”
“Courting? You’re going to court her?” Her tone was demanding and laced with angry bewilderment.
“I don’t know, I just . . .” He paused briefly, but his tone firmed up. “Ya, I am.” As he sat up a little straighter, his look challenged her to argue.
Trying to stare him down, she was having a much harder time controlling her emotions. She knew what that meant: tears were not far behind. “Fine,” she said. She turned her back and walked briskly toward the house. “Just fine.”
“I told you she’d be real mad, Pop,” David said as they headed toward home.
“No need for her to be. We’re only friends.” Samuel really didn’t want to have this conversation with his son. He knew exactly how the boy felt about Lillian. And how David felt about Sadie. Maybe Sadie wasn’t the one for him and David, but Samuel knew he needed to go through the motions, at least.
Whatever it took to keep Lillian from creeping into his dreams at night.
But Lillian’s reaction to his news only made him want to be with her that much more. She was as jealous as she could be, and it warmed his heart. And to have such notions made him wonder if he was doing right by Sadie. His intentions were mostly in the right place. But was he really being fair to her? Agreeing to give it a try because the elders thought it was a good match didn’t seem the best way to approach a courtship. If he was true to his heart, he’d have to admit that courting Sadie would distract him from the person he really wanted to be with but couldn’t have.
Samuel refused to set himself and his boy up for heartbreak if Lillian chose to leave the district.
“I’d rather be havin’ supper with Lillian next week,” David snapped. “And I sure don’t want to go on a picnic with Sadie either!”
Samuel stopped the buggy with a sharp pull on the reins. He
turned to face his son, whose face was shriveled into a scowl. “I did not raise you to speak to me in that tone, David.” He’d never heard his son use such an angry voice. Yet another reason he needed to put some distance between not only him and Lillian, but David and Lillian. The boy was way too attached to her.
Samuel prepared to reprimand the boy even more, but stopped when he saw David’s scowl shifting into a look of hopelessness. As his son’s eyes clouded with tears, he hadn’t the heart to scold him further.
“I miss my mamm,” he said softly, turning to face Samuel.
“I know.”
“And if you court Sadie, I’ll miss Lillian.” His tone pleaded for Samuel to reconsider his plan.
He gave Pete a flick of the reins and bolted back into a trot down the dark dirt road. How could he tell his son how much he’d miss Lillian, too, and still make him understand that it was best to put some distance between them? He didn’t want to send the boy mixed messages.
“Please don’t court Sadie, Pop. Please!”
In a tone harsher than Samuel had ever used with the boy, he said, “This talk is over!”
Lillian was glad her grandparents were upstairs asleep. She lit the propane lantern above the kitchen table and rummaged around for a snack. Grabbing some butter bread and a glass of tea, she plopped down on the bench and stuffed herself silly. It was misery eating, she knew. And she didn’t care. “I’ll just be a big fat Amish woman,” she whispered angrily, stuffing another piece of bread in her mouth. It was a flippant statement, and she was glad no one was around to hear it. One thing she’d learned since her arrival was that all the hard work allowed for extra calories. It was a healthy balance.
How could Samuel even think about courting Sadie? She shook her head. It was fine being friends with him as long as it was an exclusive arrangement. Sharing him with the likes of Sadie Fisher was another thing. And this was worse than just breaking their friendship bond. He was actually going to pursue a romantic involvement with Sadie. Courting to the Amish meant a prerequisite to marriage. Surely Samuel was not considering marrying this woman? She shoved another piece of bread in her mouth.
“How’s my Lilly?”
She hadn’t heard Grandpa come down the stairs. “Grandpa!” she scolded. “You’re supposed to get me or Grandma before you come down the stairs by yourself.”
He waved her off and took a seat across from her at the kitchen table. “I was hungry.”
“Well, you should have gotten Grandma up.”
Frowning, he whispered, “She’s cranky, Lilly, when she gets woke up.” He leaned in and helped himself to a piece of the bread she had piled on a plate. “Hungry?” he asked sarcastically, eyeing the mound before her.
“I’m eating my misery away,” she said, stuffing in another piece of the moist buttery bread.
“And what does my Lilly have to be miserable about this fine evening?”
“Samuel is going to court Sadie Fisher,” she said around a mouthful.
“Ya, I heard there’s a rumor about that going ’round town.” He shook his head. “And this makes my Lilly feel like she has to eat a loaf of bread?” He shot her a questioning grin.
“I know how things stand with Samuel and me, Grandpa. Really, I do.”
“Do you now? Because it sounds to me like you’re jealous.” His grin transformed into a look of disapproval. “And jealousy is a sin, Lilly.”
“I’m not jealous, Grandpa. There’s no reason to be. Samuel can certainly court whoever he wants. We share a friendship. Nothing more.”
“Who you tryin’ to convince, Lilly, me or you?”
“Well, of course I know we’re just friends. It’s just . . . well, if he’s courting Sadie, I won’t get to see him and David as much. We’re buddies. That’s all. Samuel and I agreed it was best to keep it that way.”
Grandpa smiled broadly. “My silly little kinskind. I may be a Plain man who’s been married longer than I remember, but the only two people who don’t know you and Samuel are in lieb are you and Samuel.”
“We’re not in love, Grandpa! But we have a special relationship.”
Grandpa frowned, as if he knew she was lying. “A courtship with Samuel would be filled with challenges,” he said. “But the Lord sometimes makes the good things worth the struggle.”
“Well, there’s no courtship going on with me. He’s courting Sadie.”
“Maybe that’s for the best, then,” he said softly.
“How can it be for the best when—” Stopping abruptly, she knew what she’d almost done.
“When what, Lilly?”
She looked down at the half-eaten loaf of bread and sighed. Was she fooling herself by thinking she could remain friends with him? If the thought of him courting Sadie sent her into this much of a tailspin—well, perhaps she did have feelings. But no one had to know. “I just got used to having them around. They’ve become like family.”
“Ya,” her grandpa said as he sat up a little taller and stroked his beard. “They surely have.”
It took a couple of days for Lillian to adopt a more mature attitude about the prospect of Samuel and Sadie courting. After a good cry, she concluded that at this point in her life she wasn’t worthy of Samuel’s affections. It was only right he should seek someone better suited for him and David. So after keeping her nose in the air and ignoring Samuel those first two days, she spent the rest of the week making polite small talk when he arrived to pick up David—if she happened to be outside when he showed up. Funny thing, she always seemed to be outside when he arrived.
But she made it a point to stay in the house when she heard Samuel coming up the drive to pick up David the following Wednesday. As she peeked out the window, her heart was breaking. The thought of Samuel and David spending an evening with Sadie was almost enough to make her run outside and beg them not to go.
The temptation was mounting when she heard her cell phone ringing upstairs. Knowing Grandpa was sleeping, she jetted up the stairs two at a time. Grandma met her at the top of the stairs with a frown. “Sorry,” she whispered, offering her grandma a sheepish smile. She’d meant to turn it off and just check messages to save her battery. Charging her battery in town was a hassle, and she knew it irritated Grandma to hear it ringing in the house. Although her mother hadn’t called her in weeks—not since she’d called and said she was sending Lillian money. Money that never arrived.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly into the phone.
“I miss you.”
She sat down on the bed and pushed back her hair. She recognized the voice immediately. “Hi, Rickie.”
“Did you hear me, Lillian? I miss you.” His humble tone filled her with memories. In the beginning, things had been so good between them. It took a while for him to show his true colors. But he did. More than once.
As if reading her mind, he went on. “There’s nothing we can’t fix, Lillian. I want you in my life, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us.” He paused, then continued when she didn’t respond. “It’s been weeks, Lillian. I’ve left you alone like you asked in your letter. And that was really hard. I wanted to call you so much, but I thought if I gave you some time, you’d come around. Come home, Lillian. Please. I promise—”
“Rickie,” she interrupted before his tone tempted her to believe him. She knew better. “I’ve started over in a new place. I have a new life.”
“I know,” he said. “And I think that’s great. Putting some distance between us has made me realize how much I love you. Please, Lillian, come home.”
“I am home, Rickie.” And she realized she meant it. Her feet were firmly planted, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Then I’ll come to you. I’ll get on a plane tomorrow. Your mom said you’re in Lancaster County with your grandparents.”
She’d specifically told her mother she didn’t want Rickie to know where she was going. How could she do that? “No, Rickie!”
“Just for a short
visit,” he pushed on. “We just need some time together to sort this out.”
Rickie was a born salesman. He might sell expensive cars for a living, but he wasn’t about to sell her his story that he was a changed man. “No,” she repeated.
An uncomfortable silence brewed, and Lillian said, “Rickie, I need to go.”
“Is there someone else?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Oh, I see,” he said after a while.
“There’s no one else, Rickie. But I’ve changed my life.”
“I heard. Your mom said you’re living with the Amish. Surely you haven’t become one of them?”
She would have flown through the phone line if she could have. How dare he say them as if they were from another planet? “As a matter of fact, I have,” she said firmly. She wasn’t sure if this was true, but she hoped it would deter Rickie.
“So you’re all into God now?” He sounded disgusted.
Her first instinct was to yell at him, to defend her actions. But . . . That isn’t the Amish way. As soon as the thought registered in her mind, she realized it stemmed from the hours of time she’d spent with Grandma studying the Ordnung. She had a long way to go, but some of it was sinking in. The way she might have handled Rickie in the past no longer seemed appropriate.
“I’m learning to live a different life, a better life. I think the way to do that might be through God.”
She could hear him yelling at her choice of lifestyle, but it became fainter and fainter as she realized the implications of what she just said, and the fact that she meant it. She was giving God a shot . . . for the first time in her life. Trusting that He was there.
“Good-bye, Rickie,” she said softly, and she hung up the phone. When she returned downstairs, she gazed out the window in the den. Samuel and David were gone, and Sadie would be cooking for her family tonight. A combination of bitterness and despair crept through her like a virus, targeting her heart and landing in the pit of her stomach. She’d grown to love Samuel and David, and with that love came a new sense of unselfishness unfamiliar to her. How could she deny Samuel and David a life with someone who might be better for them?
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