“Not for me.” His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “You don’t like it.”
“It’s fine. I just need to adjust. We both do.”
“You’re not a very good liar.” His gaze assessed me. “You used to lie much better.”
I gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Yeah, right.” I peered through the window as Dad’s car pulled in the driveway. “He’s here. Good. I’m starving.”
We both went into the kitchen to grab plates. I got one out for Dad.
“Let’s watch something while we eat,” Jack suggested. “Maybe a movie or something.”
I smiled. “Sounds like a plan. I’m sure Dad will be okay with that.”
Dad walked in the door, balancing a red-checkered pizza box in one hand and attempting to answer his cell phone with the other. Jack hurried over and took the pizza from him. I grabbed some soda from the fridge and filled three glasses with ice.
“What?” Dad said into the phone. He shot me a worried look and then put the phone to his chest. “I’m taking this in my bedroom. You kids get everything ready.”
He disappeared down the hallway.
I stared after him. “He sounded upset.”
Jack stood still, and his face took on a shrunken look. “Yeah, he did.”
Again, I recognized the look he’d worn for months after Mom was killed. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I added quickly. “Here, take the glasses into the living room, okay?”
He looked at me, but didn’t seem to register what I was saying. I grabbed his arm. “Jack. It’s nothing, I’m sure.”
He methodically picked up two glasses and left the kitchen, still glancing down the hallway.
I heard Dad’s bedroom door open and watched him come down the hallway, heading straight for me. My eyes widened, and I braced myself. Fear clutched my throat.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What happened?”
I was aware of Jack coming to stand beside me.
Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “That was Benjamin Lehman.”
My heart froze, and my mind whirled. Why would he be calling? Phones only in business or emergencies. “What is it?” The words jerked from my dry mouth.
“Let’s sit,” Dad said, his face drawn and worried.
I couldn’t move. “No. What is it?” I repeated.
Dad took my hand and pulled me over to the couch, where he sat me down. “It’s your cousin Hope.”
From across the room, Jack gasped.
Every muscle in my body tensed. “Did she …is she…?”
Dad shook his head. “No. No. She’s fine. But her pregnancy…”
“The boppli?”
“She lost the baby.”
I jumped from the couch. “Nee! She was fine when I left. I’m going to be her mother’s helper!”
Dad reached up and took my arm, trying to guide me back to the couch. I shook off his hand and stepped away.
“But how? What happened?”
Jack sank onto the recliner. “Is Hope okay?” His voice was monotone.
Dad nodded. “Yes. She’s okay. But she wanted you to know.” He cleared his throat. “She particularly wanted you to know, Sally.”
Then I did sit back down. “I have to see her. I have to go to her. Please, Dad.”
“You can’t do anything to help. You understand that, right?”
“But I can be with her. That’s a help.” I shook my head, and my voice broke. “You don’t get it.” I took a deep breath. “When Mom died, Hope was there for me.” I looked at Jack and saw his eyes take on a shadowed look. “Right, Jack? Hope was there for us. She took care of us.”
Dad’s brows drew down into a frown. “Sally, I do understand. But you can’t go to her. You have school.”
“I don’t care about school!” I cried. “I need to see Hope.”
“You can’t help her.” Dad’s voice softened. “I’m sorry for Hope. Really, I am. But you just got here, Sally. We’re getting to know another at last.”
I bolted from the couch and ran to my room. I snatched my suitcase from the closet and began throwing my clothes into it. Dad entered my room and put his hand on my dresser. “Sally, what are you doing?”
I started to cry then, the tears coming fast and hot. My heart hurt for Hope. And Abram. And all the family. Everyone had been so thrilled about the coming boppli.
But my heart also hurt for me. They were my family. I should be there—I belonged with them. I looked around my room.
What was I doing in Marton? I didn’t belong. Not with this stranger who was my dad. Not in this state of volcanoes and evergreens and ocean. I belonged with Uncle Benjamin and Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Ruth and Mary and Ann and Abram and Hope.
And Zeke.
If it isn’t too late.
Dad walked to the window and looked out into the darkening night. His body was stiff, and he was completely still. I stood, staring at his back, wondering how I could break through to him. How I could convince him to let me go.
He turned slowly and the look of sadness on his face was like a lance to my heart.
“It’s no good, is it?” he murmured. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I? Again.”
“Dad, you lost me years ago. When you left,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
His face crumpled, and his eyes became watery. Then he straightened his shoulders. “It’s only what I deserve. For leaving you. Both of you. All of you.”
I went to him. “I’m sorry,” I said again.
“I loved your mother. You know that, right?”
I didn’t answer, but inside, doubt swept through me. If he’d loved her, he wouldn’t have given up so easily. On her or on Jack and me.
“I thought I could make it up to you.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I must be insane. Taking two teenagers across the country and thinking it would be okay.”
A surge of pity rose in me, and I touched his arm. “At least you tried,” I whispered.
“Yeah, I tried.”
There was a noise from the doorway and I turned to see Jack, watching us, tears welling in his eyes.
“I’ll stay,” he said.
Dad flinched and then a look of hope flashed across his face. “What?”
“I’ll stay here with you. Let Sally go.”
I sucked in a quick breath, and my throat swelled with emotion. “Jack.” His name was a coarse whisper.
He glanced at me. “You don’t want to be here. Go back to Indiana.”
“But what about you? Your friends back in Ohio? Your life there?”
He pursed his lips and shrugged. “Ah, they’ll get over missing me.” A bittersweet smile nudged the corner of his mouth.
I shook my head in wonder and again marveled at the changes in Jack since Mom died. “You really want to stay here? With Dad?”
Dad took a step toward Jack. “I want you to, Jack. It will be fine. You’ll see.”
Jack didn’t take his eyes from mine. “Yes Sally, I want to. I need a family, too.”
His words were a piercing blow. How can I leave him? I’d promised to take care of him. What kind of horrid sister was I? “I’m your family, Jack. I’ll stay with you, too. It will be the three of us.”
“Gee, Sally. You make me tired. You don’t get it, do you? I’ll be okay.” He stepped back from me and appeared to be years older than fourteen.
I stared at him. The set of his stubborn jaw, the way his shoulders had filled out his T-shirt, how he now stood a bit taller than me. I glanced from him to Dad and back again.
“You’re truly okay?” I asked.
“I’m truly okay.”
I turned to Dad. “Can I go then? Can I go back home to Indiana?”
Dad stiffened. “I want you to stay.”
“I know you do. But can I go?”
“How about a short visit? To see Hope and make sure she’s all right?”
“No, Dad.”
He sucked in a deep breath, and his lips thinned. “You w
ant it to be forever.”
“Jah. I want it to be forever.”
He closed his eyes then, and I saw his hands tighten into fists. I stepped closer, and his eyes fluttered open. Our gazes locked and we stood motionless. The world around us went quiet. I didn’t blink—I didn’t breathe.
Finally, Dad broke his gaze and looked down. “All right. Go if you must.”
I let out my breath in a whoosh of relief and sent up a prayer of thanks to the Lord God. I put my arms around Dad’s stiff waist and hugged him.
“Thank you.” I dropped my arms and regarded him. “Can I visit you though? If I get special permission to fly?”
His brow furrowed. “Special permission?” he repeated then nodded as understanding dawned. “Oh, I see. If you adopt their lifestyle, you won’t be flying anymore. Yes, of course you can visit. Anytime, Sally. Do you hear me? Anytime.”
I nodded and smiled, and then remembering again the grief Hope must be bearing, my heart grew heavy. I gave Dad’s hand a squeeze and turned back to my suitcase to finish packing.
“Sally?” Dad’s voice stopped me. “You can take the bus. You know … if you can’t fly.”
I nodded again. “Sure, Dad. Yes. I can take the bus.”
I placed two sweaters into the suitcase.
Four
A Mennonite driver was waiting for me as I disembarked the plane in Indianapolis. I recognized him as Jason Bruder, a driver Uncle Benjamin often used.
“Welcome back, Sally,” he said, bopping his bald head at me.
“Thank you.”
He retrieved my luggage, and we headed to the parking garage. I got into the front seat and buckled myself in while he put my suitcases in the back of the van. Then he lumbered into the driver’s seat, and we were off.
My mind whirled with all the craziness over the past month. As the miles whizzed by, my stomach ached with both eagerness and dread. I folded my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking. Is Hope all right? Is it really okay that I am returning? Do Uncle Benjamin and Aunt Elizabeth want me back?
Does Zeke know I’m returning? Does he care? Or is he so busy courting Josie that he won’t notice?
My mind ached with questions.
My heart ached for Hope.
By the time we got from Indianapolis to Hollybrook, I felt like I’d run the entire way. I was so nervous, my breath came in gasps and sweat beaded on my upper lip. I pressed my face against the window as we turned down the road approaching home. The cornfields were thick and the stalks stood well over knee-high. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly nine-thirty and growing dark. Flickers of light hovered low over the passing farmhouse yards. The fireflies were out to greet me.
Jason rolled down his window and a gush of warm air circled through the van. He took a deep breath. “Nothing smells as good as crops at dusk,” he said. He gazed over at me and his face went serious. “You okay, Sally? I was sorry to hear of your kin’s trouble.”
I blinked and refocused my mind. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too.”
He pulled into the drive and my body tensed. Jason stopped the van in front of the porch, and I looked at the front door and held my breath.
And then they came.
The screen door burst open and Ann tumbled out, followed by Mary and Aunt Ruth and Aunt Elizabeth. Ann raced down the steps and fell into me as I stepped from the van.
“You’re back! I saved all your embroidery things! I knew you’d come back to us.” She grabbed me in a hard hug. And then she was crying. I held onto her. “It’s our Hope,” she said, and her words were muffled into my shoulder. “She lost the boppli.”
I looked over her head at the rest of them. In the lamplight from the porch, their eyes glistened with tears. Aunt Ruth stepped forward. “Ach, Ann, let the poor girl catch a breath. Come on, now.” She gently pulled Ann from me.
Mary took my suitcases from Jason, but Aunt Elizabeth remained on the steps watching me. I climbed the stairs slowly to face her. We looked at each other, and then with a quick move, she reached out and grabbed me to her chest in a hug.
“Welcome home, Sally,” she said, her voice low and husky.
Just as quickly, she released me and disappeared into the house, skirting around Uncle Benjamin who stood just inside the door. He looked at me through the screen, his arms folded across his chest. “Sally, you’re back.”
“Yes, Uncle. I’m back.” My voice faltered. Was he glad to see me?
He pursed his lips and nodded. “’Tis gut.” Two words. But there was satisfaction in those two words, and my heart nearly burst with it all.
We went inside and the familiar smell of thousands of home-cooked meals hovered in the very air.
“Come and sit down, Sally,” Aunt Ruth directed me to the dining table. “Everyone sit. I’m getting Sally some hot chocolate.”
We all sat and Aunt Ruth produced a huge mug of steaming cocoa which she set in front of me.
“You’re tired,” Aunt Elizabeth said.
“I’m okay.” I took a tiny sip of the scalding milk and felt it burn warm all the way down my throat.
Ann patted her lap and Apple jumped up.
“Ach, Ann, get that puppy away from the table.”
“But Mamm, she wants to see Sally, too.”
Uncle put his hand on Aunt Elizabeth’s arm. “Let her be.”
My gaze roamed around the circle of people so dear to me. My circle of people. My family. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I wiped them away with my sleeve.
“And Hope?” I asked. “How is she?”
Aunt Ruth cleared her throat. “Hope is fine. She trusts the Lord God and knows He is good.” She looked around the table. “Everything is in God’s hands.”
Mary gave a small gasp and put her hand over her mouth.
Tears dripped down Ann’s cheeks.
“Does she know I’m back?” I asked.
Mary fussed with the strings of her kapp. “Jah, she knows. I told her yesterday.”
“It’s late. Ann, get yourself upstairs,” Aunt Elizabeth directed.
“Evening prayers?” I asked, fairly sure I'd missed them, or Aunt Elizabeth wouldn’t be shooing Ann upstairs.
“Finished a while ago,” replied Uncle. He folded his rough hands together on the table and gave Ann a dismissal nod.
Ann groaned but climbed off the bench and headed upstairs. When she was halfway up, she turned and smiled down at me. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
Quick tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “Thank you, Ann.”
When she was out of sight, Uncle regarded me. “So, you are back for gut, then?”
I tried to read his voice, but I couldn’t. “Yes. Dad agreed.”
“I spoke with your father,” Uncle continued. “He didn’t seem pleased.”
I knew how much stock the Amish put in obeying one’s father so I needed to respond carefully. But before I could open my mouth, Aunt Ruth spoke.
“He hasn’t been her father for years.”
Uncle shot her a disgruntled look. “I know the facts, Ruth.”
“I was merely commenting that you’ve been more of a father to her than that man has.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Uncle Benjamin’s brows raised, and an expression of pleasure touched his features. I mouthed a “thank you” to Ruth.
“Uncle,” I said, “Aunt Ruth is right. But I will visit Dad. And Jack. He said it was fine and that I was welcome any time.”
Aunt Elizabeth stiffened at my mention of Jack. I knew she missed him and from the look in her eyes, she still felt a sense of failure where Jack was concerned.
“Jack is happy,” I added. “I didn’t think so at first, but he is. Well, maybe not completely happy. Content might be a better word.”
“So are you going to take instruction? Join the church?” Mary asked bluntly.
Aunt Elizabeth sucked in air. The hope on her face was almost painful to watch.
“I’d like to,” I said softly.
; A smile played across Uncle Benjamin’s face, and he suddenly looked much younger than his years. He coughed and cleared his throat, but I had the feeling he was covering up a flood of emotion.
“If that’s the case, then I am satisfied,” he said. “I’ll speak with the Bishop tomorrow morning.”
“You do want to join the church, then?” Mary’s eyes held doubt. “Truly?”
“Truly.” At that moment, a feeling of peace flowed through me like I’d never before experienced.
“We’re awfully glad, Sally,” Aunt Ruth said. “This is wonderful gut news.”
Aunt Elizabeth nodded at me, her eyes glistening with moisture.
Uncle Benjamin stood from the head of the table, and his heavy oak chair scooted behind him across the wood floor. “And now it is time for bed. Tomorrow will dawn soon enough.”
We all rose. Aunt Ruth doused one of the lanterns on the table and Mary led me upstairs with another, and the circle of light distorted our shadows against the tall walls.
In our room, I changed clothes quickly, fell into bed, and tucked the nine-patch quilt tightly under my chin—even though it was a bit warm to be sleeping under a heavy blanket. I sent up a prayer for Hope and fell asleep to the vision of Zeke’s handsome face looking down upon me.
****
“I can take you to Hope’s,” Mary said the next morning as we washed up the breakfast dishes.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll ride a bike. That way I won’t take you from your goats.”
Mary shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She set a glass on the counter and chuckled. “You’ve got to come see how Blossom has grown. But she’s trouble. One hundred percent trouble.”
I attempted to join her conversation, but my mind was full of Zeke. How could I arrange to see him? I couldn’t go up to his house and knock. I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t go running through the fields to find him.
And preaching Sunday wasn’t for over a week. Could I wait that long? Could I possibly live with wondering if he and Josie were together for more than a week?
I twisted the dishtowel in my hand. I could write him! Of course. I could send him a letter and tell him I was back.
Mary faced me, her hands on her hips. “Trying to kill the towel, Sally?”
Amish Romance BOXED Set: Amish Days: Sally's Story (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 9