“Nice to meet you both,” Rickie said, nodding at Samuel and David as they headed toward the door.
“Likewise,” Samuel responded, almost pushing David through the doorway.
“I’ll be right back,” Lillian said in a frenzy, leaving her grandparents with Rickie. That in itself was probably a mistake. No telling what Rickie might say. Or Grandpa, for that matter.
“Samuel, wait,” she said, scurrying down the porch steps.
“David, tell Lillian thank you for supper and go wait for me by the buggy.”
“Danki, Lillian,” David said hesitantly, as if he knew something was wrong.
“Don’t go,” she said, touching Samuel’s arm. “I thought you and David might stay for a while.”
“Your company came a long way to see you.”
“He should have never come here,” she said firmly. She wanted to throw herself into Samuel’s arms, a place she knew would be safe.
“Ya . . . but he is here.” He raised his brows as if asking her what she would do about it.
“Not for long. As soon as I go back inside, I’m going to make sure he gets on the next flight home.”
“I have to get David home, Lillian.”
She could hear the remorse in his voice, and she worried to what extent he was feeling it. Did he regret leaving so early? Did he regret ever befriending her in the first place?
As he turned to walk toward the buggy, Lillian followed him. “Samuel.”
He turned around to face her. “Ya.”
“Thank you again for being with me today.”
Samuel shook his head and then gazed intently into her eyes. “Lillian.” He paused. “I’m glad I was there for you today.”
She definitely sensed there was a “But” coming.
“But, you have . . .” He hesitated.
“I have what, Samuel? Just say it.” Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.
“A lot of things going on that I don’t understand. All this with your father, the problems with your mother, and now this. These are all worldly conflicts I’m just not used to.” He shook his head again.
The regret was still evident in his tone. In a defensive explosion, she tried to redeem herself. “What my mother did is not my fault. What my selfish father did is not my fault. And Rickie showing up here this way is not my fault. Are you going to punish me for these things I have no control over?”
Plain Perfect He gently grabbed her shoulders and leaned down. “Lillian, I’m not punishing you for anything. I’m just being honest and telling you I’m not used to all this.”
She didn’t know what to say. It seemed no matter how far she traveled, drama was determined to follow her.
“Make peace with all the confusion, Lillian,” he said softly. “It’s the only way you’ll find the happiness you’re looking for.”
“I’m trying! I found my father, which answers a lot of questions. I understand a little better about why my mother left here, and I broke up with a boyfriend who is a jerk! He should not be here.”
Samuel didn’t say anything, instead looking over her shoulder. She clenched her teeth as she slowly turned around.
“A jerk?” Rickie was standing on the porch step and had clearly heard her last remark.
Lillian glanced back and forth between the men. Samuel dropped his arms to his side. Rickie folded his arms across his chest.
“Exactly what’s going on here?” Rickie went on. “Are you involved with this Amish guy or something?” His voice deepened to a growl as he spoke—a sound she’d grown to recognize and fear.
“He is my friend, Rickie.”
She clasped her hands together and momentarily closed her eyes. Please God, don’t let Rickie hurt the people I love, she silently prayed.
“Are you praying?” Rickie asked, a disgusted look sweeping across his face. “Give me a break!” As he came flying down the porch steps, Lillian instinctively backed up. His eyes were ablaze. “Get in the car, Lillian. I’m taking you home,” he said softly as he forcefully grabbed her arm above the elbow and began dragging her toward the car. “We will get all this straightened out at home, sweetie.”
Lillian glanced over her shoulder at Samuel, who hadn’t moved. His feet were firmly planted in the grass a few feet from the porch steps as he watched Lillian’s life unraveling. She looked around for David. To her horror, he was standing by the buggy as Samuel instructed, taking it all in with a look on his face Lillian would carry with her for a long time.
“I’m not going with you, Rickie,” Lillian said as she tried to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Oh, but you will. Did you really think I wouldn’t come get you?” He spun her around to face him, tightening his grip on her arm. “I just wanted to enjoy my freedom for a little while.” He chuckled.
“You’ll never get me on a plane, Rickie,” she said.
“Oh, I know that. But I’m going to get you back to my hotel room. I don’t know who you think you are! Leaving me a cheesy little note and walking out of my life without so much as a warning! This is something we need to talk about.”
“I’ve had one too many talks with you, Rickie.”
“Well, you’ve got one more talk coming,” he threatened, opening the car door. “And quit looking over your shoulder. Do you really think that Amish guy is going to come to the rescue?” He snickered. “His kind would let someone shoot up the place, rape his wife, and kill his dog without doing anything. They’re passive.” He paused and glanced briefly at Samuel as if to confirm he was indeed still in the same spot. “Now, get in the car, Lillian,” he growled. “We are going to talk.”
“No, Rickie. I’m not going.” She struggled to pull away, looking toward Samuel. She knew Rickie was right. No matter how strong her friendship with Samuel was, she knew he would remain nonassertive. She was not going to make it any harder on him by begging him to help her. Plus, she couldn’t bear the thought of Rickie going after Samuel—and David having to witness such a horrible event.
Rickie swore. “I left my cell phone in the house. Get in the car, Lillian, if you don’t want any trouble for your new friend. I’ll be right back.”
She crawled into the front seat. The car door slammed shut, along with her hope. Facing forward, she couldn’t look back at Samuel. She just couldn’t. Resting her head in her hands, her body trembled with the realization of what was happening. She’d just take it, one more time. Then she’d come home. She’d be humiliated, but she’d survive. Somehow she always survived.
“God, give me the strength,” she said aloud, “and please get Rickie out of my life forever.”
After a while, she wondered what was taking Rickie so long. She slowly turned around, still unsure if she could bear to look at Samuel. No one was in sight.
Sitting up a little straighter, her eyes darted across the yard toward the house, then to her right, her left. Where was he?
David was nowhere in sight either. Where was Rickie? Her heart raced, fearing a confrontation between Samuel and Rickie. She opened the car door and bolted out.
She was running toward the house when the screen door swung open. Grandpa walked out on the porch holding a glass of tea as if he had not a care in the world. At the same time, she heard the clippity-clop of Pete’s hooves and watched as the buggy spun around. David was driving.
“Grandpa! Where’s Samuel?” She scrambled up the porch steps in time to catch the strained look on Grandma’s face before Grandpa closed the door behind him. She turned to watch David galloping down the dirt driveway. “Grandpa!”
“Samuel thought it best for David to run over to Ivan’s for a bit. Katie Ann has a shoofly pie she made ’specially for them. He’ll be right back.”
Confusion. Panic. Where was Samuel? She saw Grandma peek out the window. Her face resonated with pity. Lillian wondered if Grandpa was utilizing his authority as head of the household, instructing her to stay in the house—for her own safety.
“Grandpa,” she said fr
antically, gently grabbing his arm. “Where is Samuel?”
“Why, he’s in the woodshed right here beside the house.” Grandpa took another sip of tea.
“What?” She turned to venture in that direction, but Grandpa stepped forward.
“Lilly, I think it best if you come sit with your ol’ Grandpa on the porch.” His expression turned solemn. “Do what your daadi says.”
“But, I—”
“On the porch, Lilly.” Grandpa pointed to one of the rockers, taking a seat in the other one himself.
She reluctantly sat down. “Grandpa, listen to me. Rickie is not a very good person. Samuel could be in trouble. I have to go to him.” She looked toward the woodshed.
Grandpa tilted his head back and stared into the yard. “Lilly, you will have to trust your grandpa and do as I say,” he said firmly, before cutting his eyes in her direction. “And we will not speak of this again.”
A rustling to her right drew her eyes. There came Samuel, walking side by side with Rickie. As they reached the front of the house, Samuel headed toward the porch and Rickie walked to his car. Rickie never looked her way. Samuel said nothing as he walked up and took a seat on the porch step.
“I’ll have Irma Rose bring you something to drink,” Grandpa said to Samuel. “We’ll have us a nice glass of tea. David should be back shortly.”
“Samuel, what—” Lillian started ask.
“Maybe you’d like something cold to drink, Lillian?” Grandpa interrupted as the three of them watched Rickie’s car ramble down the dirt drive. Rickie looked none the worse for wear, but something had happened to make him tuck his tail and run.
Lillian turned back to look at Samuel. His face was as solemn as Grandpa’s.
“Samuel, are you all right?”
Before he could say anything, Grandpa spoke up one more time. “He looks mighty fine to me.” His look left no question in Lillian’s mind that there were to be no more questions. Now . . . or ever.
“Who was that man, Pop?” David asked Samuel when they pulled into the driveway.
“You heard Jonas,” he said. “An old friend of Lillian’s.”
“Pop, I’m almost twelve. I know what’s going on.”
“Do you, now?” Samuel brought Pete to a halt and hopped out of the buggy. David followed him into the house.
“It’s her old boyfriend,” David said, watching Samuel light the lantern above the kitchen table.
Samuel eyed the kitchen, again picturing the table at his favorite shop. As was the case recently, the image in his mind included Lillian. But it was hard not to have doubts that such a notion was ever going to happen. The thought of Lillian being involved with the likes of that Rickie fellow brought on a rage that was not in line with his upbringing.
As Samuel poured him and the boy each a glass of cold milk, David said, “I didn’t like him. I saw the way he tried to drag Lillian to the car. He’s not a gut man.”
“Only the Good Lord can pass judgment, David.”
Samuel reflected on the judgment he himself had just passed on the man out in the woodshed.
“Ya, I know.”
Samuel regretted the boy saw as much as he did. Especially Rickie pulling Lillian to the car like a rag doll. Sending David to Ivan’s was a good move. The boy needn’t ever know why Rickie hightailed it back to the city. For that matter, no one ever had to know. But Samuel would know, and he’d have to live with it.
It was hard for him to imagine what life must have been like for Lillian, living with a man like that. He imagined things must have been even worse behind closed doors. No one to see him doing her harm. Cringing, he recalled her fearful expression when Rickie dragged her off—a look that shifted from dread to compliance to embarrassment, all in a split second. Her face had revealed a painful past not fit for any human being. Lillian would never cause harm to another person. It sickened him to envision anyone hurting her. That Rickie fellow sickened him for sure.
He couldn’t help but worry how many more skeletons from Lillian’s closet might show up in Lancaster County.
Grandma and Grandpa were sitting at the kitchen table when Lillian walked back into the house.
“Mighty fine mess we had here, Lilly,” Grandpa said, uncharacteristically somber. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing that pretty Englischer again.”
“I hope not, Grandpa.” Lillian hands trembled as she poured herself a cup of hot tea and took a seat beside her grandma at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“Ya,” Grandpa said. “We will put this behind us. No talk of it again.”
Grandpa spoke with a conviction Lillian hadn’t heard before. Grandma had temporarily taken her place as a traditional Old Order Amish woman, allowing Grandpa to rule the roost. Her expression was distant and staid.
“I hope Samuel will still want to be friends after all this,” Lillian said, fighting tears.
Her grandparents didn’t answer, as if they were harboring the same thought.
“I think I’ll head upstairs,” she said finally, feeling defeated by the events of the day. She barely heard her grandparents wishing her a good night’s sleep as she headed up the wooden steps. She was almost to the top of the stairs when Grandpa called to her. “Lillian.”
“Yes, Grandpa?” She turned around, not sure if she wanted to hear what he had to say. His voice still resonated with the same somberness.
“God does not judge us by the actions of others,” he bellowed. “And me and your Grandma don’t either.”
Lillian tried to muster up a smile. She nodded, turned back around, and headed upstairs feeling embarrassment and regret. Everything she’d been working to attain seemed to be teetering toward failure. Feeling herself curl up into the place she often went after an encounter with Rickie, she realized she could either allow herself to revert back to the person she used to be—or fight for the peaceful life within her grasp.
“Guess who showed up on the doorstep this evening, Mom?” Lillian asked her mother when she answered the phone.
“Lillian, I think Rickie deserves another chance, and that’s the reason I told him—”
“Mother! I decide who I am going to be with. You made a terrible mistake sending Rickie all this way!”
“Rickie is a very nice-looking, well-mannered man with a good job, Lillian.”
“He has you so fooled, Mom.”
“Is this about the Amish man?” Her mother’s tone resounded with disapproval. “Are you not giving Rickie another chance because of this other man?”
“It has nothing to do with Samuel.”
“You should give him another chance.”
Sensing her mom’s complete and utter disappointment in her, she considered setting her straight about Rickie. But her mom had introduced her to Rickie, and she knew her mother would blame herself. Yet again, Lillian found herself in a role reversal, feeling the need to protect her mother. But she wondered when her mom was ever going to be a mother to her.
Still, she and her mother had sufficiently hurt each other enough over the years, and she wasn’t going to rub this in her face. Besides, she felt humiliated that she’d let it go on for as long as she did.
She recalled the parting of ways between Samuel and Rickie, wondering what exactly had happened out in the woodshed.
“Samuel and I are just friends, but Rickie could never be the man Samuel is.”
“Oh, Lillian! I can hear it in your voice. You’ve fallen for this Amish man.” She heard her mother’s sigh.
Lillian took a deep breath and decided to change the subject. “I met my father today.”
No response. “Well, Mom?”
“I’m trying to imagine what that must have been like,” her mother replied.
Lillian thought back to her meeting with Daniel Foster. Shattered dreams. Suddenly, she didn’t want to talk anymore.
After a while, her mother said, “I’m sorry, Lillian. I really am.”
Again she didn’t respond.
“Yes, I told him who I was. And yes, the whole thing was horrible.” She paused, trying to imagine what it must have been like for her mother. “I suppose it was horrible for you, too, Mom. But you should have told me much sooner who my father was.”
“I just wanted to protect you. How did you find out about the newspapers? I can’t believe they’re still in the barn after all these years.”
“Grandpa thought I was you one night. He said he knew you were saving newspapers, and it would be best to stay away from the Englisch man. I had already seen the boxes of newspapers, so I looked through them. You made little notes beside some of his columns.”
She heard a sniffle on the other end of the line.
“Mom?” she asked when there was no reply.
“How is Grandpa?” Now Mom was changing the subject, but she was also crying.
“He’s okay, most of the time. I think his medicines cause him to get confused at night sometimes.”
And, then, as if it had been building for years, Sarah Jane Miller wept uncontrollably. Lillian had never heard her like this. Thank goodness she hadn’t told her about Rickie. “Mom? Are you okay?” Her own tears began to build. “Mom?”
“I’m so, so sorry, Lillian. I’m sorry I’ve been a bad mother. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Daniel.” She wept harder. “I miss my mamm and daed so much.”
It was the first time Lillian had ever heard her mother speak any Pennsylvania Deitsch. It was the first time she remembered her mother apologizing for the way she had raised her.
“I miss them so much, Lillian,” she went on. “And I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”
Lillian tried to gain a level of composure before she said anything. The whole day had been an emotional disaster. Now she just felt sick about everything. She needed a hug. Oddly, she needed her mother.
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