“I haven’t gone out with anyone in a very long time … except for our occasional dates. And I’m years away from being ready to marry too.”
It seemed to him that every day he spent with Teena, though it wasn’t often, was better than all the others combined. “Then tell your Mamm we’re seeing each other and no one else. In the meantime get back to work.”
“If we ever have children, I’m telling them about today. Completely lacking in romance but rich with demands to get back to work.”
Ray removed his hat, bent low, and kissed her on the lips. When he backed away a few seconds later, her cheeks were red.
She looked around to see if anyone was watching. “That was really nice.”
“Not bad,” he teased.
She nodded. “You’re right. We might need a little practice.”
Ray slid his dirty hands over hers and squeezed. “I could manage that.”
33
Andy finished the chores in the barn and trudged through the thick snow. It wasn’t yet time for dinner, but night had fallen, and the stars twinkled. It was early January, and it’d been snowing a couple of times a week since mid-December, his second December since the summer he’d met Jolene.
He went to his beloved dogwood. He’d planted it in the front yard in a spot he could see whether he was in his kitchen, the barn, or the round pen. With his gloved hand he shook the snow off the branch, and let the warmth of hope and love wash over him. This one branch still continued to bloom.
He couldn’t believe it, and yet he could stand right here and watch it for hours if he let himself. Each time he came to this tree, he prayed for Jolene, and it brought him renewed peace time and again. He also prayed for Eva and Tobias.
Sadie and Levi’s little girl was a year old now. Had it been nearly fifteen months since he’d seen Jolene? She seemed so close to him. But soon enough he would blink, and fifteen years would have passed. He pulled off one glove and touched the cold petals. Several fell into his hand.
Odd as it seemed, he was at peace with his life now. He’d become content again, although he doubted he would ever stop missing Jolene. He’d learned that part of many people’s journey on this planet was to accept a constant ache—whether of the heart, mind, or body—and to keep on going, giving, and loving as if there were no pain.
His family, church, and business life were thriving. He caught himself laughing while sharing meals and playing games with Levi, Sadie, and Tobias. Peace had never felt this good. Maybe it took losing all of something to be alive to it anew. He’d attended a few auctions with Ray, and each time, Ray had said Jolene was well but absolutely nothing else. Was that an edict from their bishop, or did Ray not want to tell Andy how well Glen and Jolene were doing?
Tobias now seemed to understand the situation with his Mamm, and he’d accepted her absence the best a young boy could. He was wounded but not critically so.
At the moment Tobias was with Sadie, doing his hour of homework. Even though she had a child of her own, Sadie didn’t want to give up that time with Tobias. Andy had much to be thankful for.
A rig pulled onto his driveway, and Omar got out. “Andy.”
“Hallo.” Andy went toward him, his hand outstretched. There were so many ways that Omar could’ve mishandled the accusations against Jolene and him, but his bishop had trusted what he knew to be true of Andy. It was a shame that Jolene’s bishop operated from suspicion of sin rather than grace. But Omar had gone through the steps required of him and had done so in a way that stopped the gossip from spreading. Most had set the issue aside, unwilling to form a judgment. “Care to come inside?”
Omar glanced at the dogwood tree and then did a double take. “It’s blooming!”
“Only one branch, but ya.”
“In winter.” He went to it, inspecting the branch. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Where did you get this tree?”
“Well, since you asked directly, Jolene.”
The man gaped at him. “How long has it been blooming?”
“About fourteen months. All the branches bloom in spring, but that one blooms year round.”
Omar stood frozen, staring at it for several long seconds before he shook his head, apparently freeing his thoughts. He reached into his coat pocket. “A large envelope arrived at Feenie’s early last week.”
Feenie was Eva’s favorite sister and the only one she ever contacted. Was Eva on the brink of returning? “Did Eva write to her sister?”
“Ya, sort of. She wrote to Tobias but addressed it to her sister. Feenie would have brought it to you herself, but she wanted me to verify its contents first,”—he held it out to Andy—“which is what I’ve been working on nonstop since Feenie brought it to me.”
Andy took the manila envelope and peered inside. The darkness of night prevented him from being able to read anything out here, so he lowered it to his side.
“I have some … disturbing news, and it will hit hard.” Omar drew a deep breath. “Eva passed away more than two years ago.”
Grief and remorse over lives poorly lived—hers and his—hit hard, and Andy sank to the ground and sat in the thick snow. “Two years ago? How?”
“She was living on the streets, refusing medication for her mental-health issues. She died of pneumonia.”
“But why are we just now finding out?”
Omar eased his hand under the flowering branch, gingerly cradling it. “It may be the second miracle you’ve received.” He released the branch. “More than two years ago Eva wrote a letter to Tobias and addressed it to her sister. Before Eva died, she asked a street friend to mail it.” He shrugged. “Apparently the woman was with Eva when she died, but in her confused mental state, she thought she’d lost the letter.”
Mental illness was so cruel, making Eva choose to live on the streets as a poor homeless person rather than here in the warmth of their home with their son.
Omar cleared his throat. “Somehow two years later the envelope showed up in an old coat of Eva’s street friend, along with the newspaper obituary, which described Eva as an unclaimed indigent person.” Omar cradled the blooming flower again. “I never would’ve figured a homeless woman would have the ability or mind-set to mail the items. But with that information and with Feenie’s help as a relative, we managed to get the death certificate. It arrived in the mail today, giving us the last piece of information needed to verify that the woman who died was Eva.”
This new reality continued to pound him. After all he’d been through with Eva, he wouldn’t have figured the news would rip out his insides like this. Their regrets were now etched in stone. Why did it have to be this way for Eva and him? And for his tender-hearted son?
Omar crouched. “It may be too soon to mention this, but perhaps this is God’s way of opening a door for you and Jolene.”
“No, it’s not.” That time had passed … if it had ever existed.
She and Glen were together now, and he wouldn’t mess up that. Even if Andy knew she’d rather be with him, if he made one step toward her, it would confirm people’s suspicions that they’d been inappropriate or, worse, had an affair.
“I’ll share the news with my family and hers if Feenie hasn’t already done so. If the letter is coherent and nice, I’ll give it to Tobias, but I’d rather keep this development as low-key and quiet as possible.”
“I hope it isn’t an inappropriate time to mention this, but Jolene’s bishop contacted me. Preacher Glen has been gathering information about various church districts who have changed their position on the creation of art from impermissible to permissible. The bishop seems to think Glen is pushing hard for him to relent on that topic because of something to do with Jolene. I’m not sure if the bishop has valid reasons for thinking that or if his daughter is putting ideas into his head again. But the situation has me curious.”
Even though Andy trusted Omar, he wouldn’t share Jolene’s secret. But this news did confirm that Glen was a good man who wanted to free the capti
ve. That alone was reason enough to stay away from Jolene. Anything Andy did to renew that friendship would only serve to make Jolene a prisoner of gossip and confusion concerning them.
“Do you want me to come in for a while so we can talk?”
“I appreciate it, Omar. I do. There’s a lot to think about and sort out, but there’s nothing to discuss.”
“Okay.” Omar shook his hand before heading to his carriage. He paused and turned. “Maybe you know this, and maybe I’m out of line for saying it, especially right now, but while I was talking to Glen about ways to get artwork approved, he said that Jolene removed herself from the singles’ section late last spring.”
The impact of that for Jolene cut deep, but Andy would end his days on this earth as he’d been living them for nearly nine years—as a single Daed with one son. If one looked at it the right way, it was more than enough.
Jolene held the squishy orange football firmly, running as her three nephews squealed loudly and chased her. The eldest one, now four, grabbed her legs. She willingly fell to the ground and swooped him and his cousins into her arms while tickling them. Lying on the soft green grass, facing the gorgeous spring sky while kissing their chubby, soft cheeks, she felt whole.
The grill had smoke billowing from it as Michael and Josiah cooked hamburgers and hot dogs. Mother’s Day. She loved it and her little munchkins.
Teena was here, sitting next to Ray. Her youngest brother was quite the horseman and businessman, and he’d asked Teena to marry him. They were joining the faith this fall, but they would wait until the next fall to marry.
Hope, at seventeen, was now fully in her rumschpringe and had her sights set on James Beiler, not that she’d told him yet. James had yet to ask her out, but he came to family gatherings. He and Willis were on the porch hanging her newest Mother’s Day gift—a swing like Lester’s.
With the little ones wallowing around her legs, Jolene propped up on one elbow, viewing her family.
James glanced at Hope, who sat on the steps reading. Jolene wasn’t ready for them to date, not with the age difference between the two. Her little sister needed more time to mature, but Jolene hoped they would marry one day. They had such a good time together. They were true friends with sparks of romance between them. Didn’t romantic love based on first truly liking the other person make the best marriages? It seemed so.
Hope had a love of writing, and Jolene wasn’t sure what to do about it. Her sister was far more talented at writing than Jolene was at painting, but their bishop didn’t allow novelists either. Maybe Jolene should move to a district with a more lenient bishop, but she’d have to go at least thirty miles, which meant her family wouldn’t be able to drop by easily.
A rig pulled onto the driveway, a normal occurrence around here. She had a busy household with loved ones in and out all the time, but who was joining them? She sat upright, holding a lapful of wiggly children.
Glen got out of his carriage. Jolene squinted against the sun, peering through the window. Inside was Glen’s fiancée, a quiet, gentle woman who’d been married only three years when she lost her husband. She’d been widowed seventeen years ago and had one child, a daughter. She lived in Ohio, and Glen had met her while visiting other churches to preach. He grinned. “It looks like old home week around here.”
Jolene stood, shooing her nephews to their Mamms before straightening her Sunday apron. She wore a black half apron with no bib for church Sundays now. The white aprons were for singles who intended to wed. “Hey.” She smiled. “Would you and Lillian like to join us for burgers?”
“We can’t. My Mamm is expecting us, but could we get a rain check?”
“I’d like that.” She used her hand as a visor against the sun. “So what brings you by this afternoon?”
“I talked to Omar over in Apple Ridge yesterday, and he shared something I think you should know … if you don’t already.”
Her heart thudded. Were Andy and Tobias okay? What about Sadie and Levi? Had Eva returned?
He shifted. “My understanding is Lester knows this, but Andy’s Daed asked him not to say anything.”
“What’s happened?”
“About four months ago Omar learned and shared with Andy that Eva had passed away, apparently a couple of years earlier.”
Why had Glen dropped by to tell her this? It might make sense if they’d bumped into each other in town and he took that opportunity to mention it. But no matter how she viewed it, this was really difficult news. She had meant no disrespect to Eva by falling in love with her husband. And how awful for Andy. Whether Eva was alive or dead, he was without his wife. How did a man grieve the loss of someone he’d lost so long ago?
“It was good of you to stop by and tell me. But I have my life back. People have finally stopped whispering about Andy and me. And I’m content.” She had no doubt that Andy felt the same way, because she’d not heard anything from him. This information wouldn’t change anything between them.
Their love remained, or at least hers did, but they had been washed downriver.
34
June humidity lay heavy on Andy as he sat on the back steps and reread the letter Eva wrote to Tobias. It wasn’t long, but in it she assured Tobias that she loved him and believed in him. She apologized for not living with him like other Mamms did. Her few, simple words brought a lot of comfort to Tobias and to Andy. But one thing she wrote struck him as profound, and it kept churning in his heart: live life based on what you know to be true, not what others think is true of you.
She was speaking in the context of Tobias trusting that she was proud of him even though others might think she didn’t care because she wasn’t around. But was Andy staying away from Jolene because of what others thought their relationship had been?
He folded the letter. He had read it many times, and it sounded as if she’d returned to Apple Ridge at some point and seen Tobias, watched him even. It had given her peace to know he was a whole and healthy boy. Andy used to think that if he had the power to turn back time, he never would’ve married Eva. But then he wouldn’t have Tobias, and Eva was right—Tobias was a gift.
“Daed, kumm look!”
He put the letter in his pocket. Tobias had Miss T in the round pen, training her to back up on cue, very useful for driving carts and carriages. “That’s great, Tobias.”
His son had grieved his mother’s death and would continue to do so, but Tobias felt good about the letter. If Andy had only one word to describe Tobias, it would be thankful. His son saw the silver lining in everything. Andy watched him for a while, applauded, and then headed inside. It was time to put the letter away for good unless Tobias asked for it.
The full bloom of the dogwood caught his eye.
Jolene.
Andy couldn’t make himself call or write or visit her. He longed to, but so much stood between them. He’d hurt her, damaged her reputation, and disappeared from her life.
What was he supposed to do? Go up to her and say, “Now that my wife is gone …”?
No. Contacting her would be wrong for a hundred reasons.
A pair of cardinals flitted in and out of the dogwood regularly these days, and when he’d investigated, he saw that they were building a nest.
He couldn’t help but smile. He went to his bedroom and put the letter inside the top drawer. As he closed it, something small and metallic fell, and he instinctively reached out his hand.
The key.
How in the world?
It must’ve been on the very edge of his dresser, but he kept it in the same drawer where he’d just put the letter. When he’d taken out the letter earlier today, maybe the key had been stuck between the folds in the page and then had fallen onto the top of the dresser.
Just as quickly as it had fallen into his hands, an idea fell into his mind.
The attic.
The moment Jolene entered the attic, she knew something was different. But what? It was mid-June, and the air was stifling up here. The problem
with waiting until nighttime to paint was the lighting wasn’t good.
She was glad now that Glen had come up here and learned her secret. Since that day a year ago, he’d gathered information from other Amish districts and had asked bishops who did allow art to write letters, and Glen had presented the information to their bishop, asking him to change his stance. Glen was such a kind man, but she didn’t regret letting him go.
What must it be like to paint out in the open or in a spare room?
As she reached for a paint pallet, an unusual piece of paper on her very cluttered desk caught her eye. She picked up the thick ivory paper that contained only two lines:
Willing, but unsure.
Let peace guide us.
Her heart jumped and skipped like sparks flying from a flame, and her internal reaction stunned her. But she knew it was Andy. Not only because she’d guarded the keys diligently, but because she could feel his presence. He’d been here. She closed her eyes and basked in the feel of it.
He must have seen her dozens of paintings. Embarrassment caused her cheeks to burn. She hadn’t expected that Andy would ever enter their attic. It had to have been obvious to him that he was the man in the pictures and she was the woman.
She grabbed a fine paintbrush, dipped it in red paint, and responded. Under the phrase “Willing, but unsure,” she wrote, “Timeless friendship.” He was willing to step forward or stay away, and she felt that either way, they were timeless friends. What else they were remained to be discovered. Why was her heart pounding so? Was she happy that he’d contacted her, or was she terrified? Maybe both.
Beneath “Let peace guide us,” she wrote, “Share more … but not in person.”
What was he thinking and feeling? He was free to let her know, but she wasn’t ready to look at his truth full on, not if she wanted to keep the peace she’d worked so hard to regain.
A Love Undone Page 26