by Leslie Gould
Shani put the flashlight on the table. Rose grinned at her. Trudy sputtered food, sweet potatoes, maybe, from her mouth. Shani turned toward Lila. “Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”
The girl nodded and darted into the living room.
“Can I leave you my work number?” she asked Eve. “And Charlie’s number in case you can’t get ahold of me? If there’s an emergency.”
Eve nodded as Lila returned with the paper and pen.
Shani wrote down the numbers quickly and handed the paper to Eve, who slipped it into her apron pocket. “Of course, if anything happens”—she meant to Joel—“Zane should call 9-1-1 first.”
Eve nodded. “If Joel needs help with anything, tell him to call our number. Someone might be in the barn and hear it.”
Sincerely, Shani said, “We appreciate that.” Then she told Eve and the girls good-bye and hurried out the door.
By the time she reached home, the pizza delivery person was leaving. By the time she reached the kitchen, Zane had the paper plates and napkins on the table and the root beer opened.
“Let’s say grace,” he said.
“Let’s talk about what just happened first,” Shani responded.
Joel backed up his chair so he was close to the table. “He lost track of time.”
“No. Eve sent him home. But instead of obeying her, he went to the barn with Simon and Daniel. Poor Lila lied to me to cover for Zane.” She glared at her son. “What’s that all about?”
He hung his head.
“Son.” Joel’s voice was harsh.
“It was Simon’s idea,” Zane said.
“It doesn’t matter whose idea it was,” Joel replied. “You didn’t obey Eve. Tomorrow come straight home after school. Then we’ll talk about you hanging out with the neighbors—or not.”
It was the first time since he’d been home that Joel had taken the lead in disciplining Zane, and she wasn’t about to question his decision.
“Let’s pray,” Shani said.
“I’d rather not,” Zane replied.
“Tough.” Shani bowed her head, giving Joel a chance to say grace. When he didn’t she took a deep breath and recited the prayer from her childhood, “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest. Let this food by thee be blessed.” It was one her father had said when she was a child.
After she ended with “Amen,” Zane said, “I like the silent prayers better.”
“Tough,” Joel responded.
Zane reached for a piece of pizza.
“Serve your mother first.” Joel glared at Zane until he complied.
Shani took the plate from her son. Life was never easy. She sincerely believed that Zane’s friendship with the Lehman children was a good thing, but it was almost unbearably complicated. She didn’t like tiptoeing around because of Tim. And she couldn’t help but share Joel’s fear that it would all blow up in Zane’s face.
Later, as Shani made lunches for the next day, the telephone rang. Zane, who sat at the kitchen table doing homework, popped up. “I’ll get it.”
“I’ve got it,” Shani said, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked toward the phone on the far wall of the kitchen.
It was Charlie, just calling to check in.
“How are you?” Shani asked.
“Good,” he answered. “I went back to that group at church I used to go to. For the first time since getting back.”
“How was it?”
“Fine.” He sounded a little out of breath. “Is Joel around?”
Shani headed into the living room, where Joel was watching a basketball game.
“It’s Charlie,” she said, handing him the phone.
She couldn’t hear the conversation while she finished the lunches, but it lasted for a while.
She heard Joel say good-bye as Zane closed his social studies book. “Go on to bed,” Shani said to him. “I’ll come up and wake you before I leave in the morning.”
He stood and gave her a hug. She kissed the top of his head. In a few months he’d be too tall for her to do that. “Go tell your dad good-night.”
She watched from the kitchen doorway as Zane, his expression blank, bent down and hugged Joel. Then he slipped on up the stairs.
Shani turned off the light to the kitchen. “Come on.” She put her hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Let’s get to bed.”
“Give me a minute,” he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
She groaned. “I thought you’d stopped.”
“Mostly.”
“But you’ve been smoking again, when I’m at work?”
He shrugged. “Not much—it’s not like I can drive down to the closest convenience store and buy more. All I have is what’s left.” He dropped the pack in his lap and headed toward the back door. She guessed he had a stash in his footlocker. She tossed the dish towel on the counter.
He’d started smoking in Iraq. He’d been honest with her about it right away, over Skype, when Zane wasn’t in the room. Said it calmed his nerves. He’d laughed and said it was the safest thing he did all day. She didn’t think that was funny.
She went on into the bedroom and changed into her nightgown.
He must have only smoked half a cigarette, because he came in right away and put the pack in his drawer. “I’ll stop,” he said. “I hardly ever do it anyway. Just on especially bad days.”
She didn’t reply as she helped him get ready for bed. It had to be his decision. Time would tell—but it irked her.
Once they were in bed, the baby began to swirl around. She took Joel’s hand and placed it on her abdomen. He patted her and then pulled away.
She rolled toward him and brushed his hair from his forehead. It was longer than usual. He’d be asking for a haircut in a day or two.
He inched away from her. She tried not to take it personally. They didn’t have the same relationship they’d had before. He was distant. Tired. And with good reason—he was still recovering. He wasn’t the same Joel. Not at all.
Since his return, he’d not once placed his hand on her belly—or anywhere else on her—without her initiating it, and then he’d put off her advances since he reinjured his leg. But there were ways. If he wanted.
She’d been so faithful in praying while he was in Iraq. In fact, that was what had kept her sane. Right after she’d found out about the attack and during the first few days in Germany, she’d been so grateful that he’d survived, so full of praise. But the ongoing impact of the death of Samuel and Joel’s injuries—mainly the emotional ones—made her, over time, afraid to pray.
She was pretty sure her prayers didn’t have any sway with God. She inhaled sharply. Was that the kind of woman she’d become? One that didn’t pray? One that didn’t trust? One that would, in the end, give up?
She swallowed hard, weary of thinking about what was—and wasn’t—going on around her.
“What’s Charlie been up to?” she asked.
“He saw Nikki tonight.”
Shani propped her head up on her hand. “You’re kidding?” It was so much easier to talk about other people’s lives than their own.
“Nope.”
Her prediction to Eve about Charlie and Nikki nagged at her. “Did he see her at church?”
“Yep.”
Shani rolled to her back. “How’d it go?”
“He said it was fine. She’s apologetic for how she handled everything.”
“And he probably forgave her. Right? Just like that.”
She could tell Joel was shaking his head. “I don’t know, Shani. I didn’t ask him.”
“Do you think they’ll get back together?”
“I hope not,” Joel responded.
Shani stared at the ceiling. She’d liked Nikki, but she thought she’d been a fool—a mean fool—to dump Charlie the way she had.
Shani started to ask Joel if Charlie sounded happy that he’d seen Nikki, but his breathing had already changed. He’d probably taken a pain pill after he’d had his smoke.
20
Charlie glanced at the clock on the dashboard of his pickup: 3:42. Zane would be home by the time he got there.
He’d done his laundry, grocery shopped, and cleaned in the morning, telling himself he couldn’t leave Philly until it was done. Being gone two weekends in a row had taken its toll on his domestic well-being, and he’d determined to set it straight before a third weekend wreaked complete havoc.
Last night, Charlie had considered not going back to Lancaster for the weekend at all. Nikki had invited him to dinner at her house on Saturday with a few friends from their group, but he’d already told Joel he’d visit and chop enough wood to last the family for a few weeks. He couldn’t back out now. But he wouldn’t return to Lancaster for a while after this trip.
Before he’d left for Iraq, he and Nikki had talked about getting engaged when he returned. That seemed so long ago now. He couldn’t fathom why she’d stepped back into his life. Perhaps it was pity. Or maybe she felt she needed to make up for dumping him the way she had.
He turned off the highway onto Juneberry Lane. The day was clear and bright but cold. The maple trees were nearly bare, while their leaves covered the lane in a collage of yellow, orange, and red. Winter wasn’t far away.
He slowed, glancing down the Lehmans’ driveway, but didn’t see anyone. A minute later, as he neared the cedar tree, a branch came sailing across the hood of his pickup. He slammed on the brakes.
Simon appeared.
Charlie rolled down his window. “Did you throw that?”
“It got away from me,” Simon slurred, his jaw still wired shut. “We’re playing Romans. It’s my javelin.”
“Who’s we?” Charlie asked, opening the door and climbing down from the truck.
“All of us,” Simon said as Rose came running out of the bushes. Daniel followed, greeting Charlie with a wave.
“Zane too?” Charlie asked.
“Jah, he’s across the field,” Simon said.
“Zane!” Rose yelled, her voice much louder than Charlie would have predicted.
A moment later, Zane appeared, followed by a bright-faced Lila.
“Does your dad know you’re playing Roman soldiers?” Charlie asked, looking directly at Lila.
“We have permission to play after school,” the girl replied.
“But probably not a game with soldiers, right?” Charlie glanced around the circle of Amish kids. Simon and Rose both met his gaze with grins but Lila and Daniel hung their heads.
“Ach,” Zane replied. “Don’t spoil our Shposs.”
“Pardon?”
Zane sighed at his ignorance. “Our fun. We’re not hurting anyone.”
Charlie grimaced. “Except my truck.” He patted Simon’s shoulder. “Will you be home soon?” he asked Zane.
“Around four. That’s how long we’re allowed to play.”
“See you then.”
The children scurried away toward the creek on the other side of the field. Lila and Zane ran ahead, leading the way. The girl could really run, considering she wore a dress. She pulled ahead of Zane.
Then again, maybe he let her.
Charlie climbed back in his truck and drove the rest of the way, slowly, his thoughts falling on Eve. How many times over the week had he told himself he wouldn’t think about her anymore—only to find his mind wandering her way again? That was another reason to stop coming down to Lancaster.
The smoke coming out of the chimney greeted him as Charlie parked his truck. He jumped down and breathed in the acrid smell, thinking of fall days with his grandparents. He’d raked leaves with his grandfather and then helped him burn the piles. After they’d finished, his grandmother served hot cider and they all played Chinese checkers.
He knocked on the door and immediately heard Joel call out, “Come in.”
He did. His friend sat in his chair in front of the TV, but he turned it off and wheeled toward Charlie. “How was your trip?”
“Good.” Laughter from the kitchen distracted Charlie. “Who’s here?”
“The Amish chick.” Joel grinned.
“And the baby?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah. She wasn’t as keen on me as last time.”
“Oh, you didn’t give her a chance,” Shani said, sweeping into the living room with the baby perched on her belly. “She just had some applesauce. She’ll be fine now.” She plopped the baby down in Joel’s lap and grinned at Charlie.
“Oh, hey,” she said.
“Hey, to you too,” he responded. “Looks like you have visitors.”
She nodded. “Come on in and say hello.”
Feeling awkward, he followed her into the kitchen, glancing back at Joel. What had changed? Everyone was acting as if the encounter with Tim last Monday hadn’t happened.
Joel didn’t seem to notice his questioning look. The baby was lunging at the armrest, her mouth open, and Joel was trying to wrestle her away.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Shani said.
Eve stood, turning an apple peeler that was attached to the tabletop. She looked up as he entered. “Hallo there,” she said.
Charlie stopped in the doorway.
“The kids picked the apples off those trees out back,” Shani said.
“Isn’t it late for apples?” he asked.
Eve licked her finger and headed toward the sink. “These are the last to ripen.”
“Ripe is the important word here,” Shani said. “That’s why we’ll be making applesauce out of all of them.”
“Well, I’ll leave you ladies to your work,” Charlie said, turning away.
“Eve’s a good influence on me,” Shani called out. “I’ll actually be cooking meals soon.”
Charlie chuckled as he headed back to the living room. The baby had settled down in Joel’s lap and was staring at the TV.
“Is that all right?” Charlie asked.
“What?”
“For Trudy to watch TV.”
“It’s just basketball. It’s not like it’s The Simpsons or King of the Hill or anything like that.”
Charlie shook his head. “That’s not the point. She’s probably never seen TV before.”
“Actually, she has.” Eve had stepped to the doorway of the kitchen.
“Where?” Charlie couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice, but he hoped he’d disguised his hurt at Eve’s snippiness.
“At Abra’s parents’. They’re Mennonite. Right after Trudy was born, Abra and I went there with all the children.”
Charlie tilted his head, trying to understand.
Eve nodded. “Jah, the kids didn’t watch any of those shows Joel mentioned, but they watched Sesame Street and things like that. And sports.” Eve stepped forward and reached for the baby. “It’s chore time. We need to head home. I’ll tell Zane to hurry this way,” she said to Joel.
“Thanks,” he answered, giving up the little one.
Eve grabbed the diaper bag and headed into the kitchen with the baby. It was one thing, back in Philly, to resolve not to be interested in her but quite another to control his feelings when she was so close. He took a deep breath, fearing she was mad at him. Probably about Monday. Tim had probably been worse toward her than anyone. Still, Charlie couldn’t get the expression on her face out of his head.
He exhaled. Joel smirked.
“Don’t,” Charlie said.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Joel chuckled. “So how’s Nikki? Are you giving her a second chance?”
Charlie shrugged. She was the last thing he wanted to talk about, especially with Eve so close. There was more laughter from Eve and then Shani. Then a round of good-byes and the sound of the back door closing.
“Well, things seemed to have relaxed around here,” Charlie said to Joel, except for Eve. She seemed uptight, with Charlie at least. But he wasn’t going to
mention that. “What happened since Monday?”
“Tim’s got a job at the lumberyard. He’s working a couple days a week. Seems the bishop’s trying to win his favor.”
“Oh,” Charlie said.
Joel grinned. “Jealous?”
Without responding Charlie stepped toward the door. “I bet you need more wood chopped, right? Is the axe outside?”
“Where else would it be?” Joel teased.
Charlie headed to the front door. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t forget the wood,” Joel called out as Charlie closed the door behind him.
He’d resolved to let go of his feelings for Eve after what happened on Monday, but now—after seeing her—he had to know. She was limping toward the Lehmans’ home, so she hadn’t gotten far. Charlie jogged toward her, calling out, “Let me help with the baby.”
She turned around. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”
Trudy waved at him and smiled. Charlie slowed as he reached the two. “The extra weight can’t be good for your ankle.”
The baby lunged toward him, drool cascading over her lower lip. Charlie grabbed for her, and Eve let go.
Charlie matched Eve’s pace, which wasn’t very fast. “May I ask you something?”
Without looking at him she said, “No.”
He persevered. “About what happened last Monday.”
She stopped and turned toward him. “I said no.”
He stopped too. The baby wiggled in his arms as if she wanted him to keep going. When he didn’t move, she leaned toward Eve, who took the little one back.
Charlie hung his hands at his sides. “You seemed annoyed with me just now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I only intended to help you with your ankle on Monday.”
“I know.”
His eyes burned.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “It was me.” She kissed the top of the baby’s head and turned away.
Charlie caught her elbow. “I understand the differences between us.”
“Jah,” she said. “That’s why it’s no use.”
He inhaled sharply. “Can we be—” his breath caught—“friends?” Saying the word pained him. But he’d rather have her as a friend than nothing at all.