Always Close to Home

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Lydia took a deep breath. “That’s none of your business.”

  Her face was fiery red again, she was sure. She had to work around Milton until Christmas, so she had to get used to him. Somehow!

  He was sober-faced now. “I’d be greatly honored,” he said, “if it was me you were thinking of.”

  She said nothing in reply. She certainly wouldn’t admit her feelings. It was bad enough her face was red.

  “It is a nice moon,” he said with a nod toward the horizon. “I guess you don’t have to tell me who the man is, but…”

  “I do agree, the moon is nice.” Lydia grasped for the escape route, but Milton wasn’t thrown off his trail.

  “I know one thing, Lydia. The moon and you make me dream things.” He looked toward the horizon again as a shadow crossed his face. “But life doesn’t always let our dreams come true, does it?”

  Did he mean John and Laura? She wasn’t sure.

  “I think you understand,” Milton said, his gaze still on the horizon. “Beautiful dreams can fade away, can’t they?”

  “Do you mean John’s accident?” Lydia ventured.

  Milton shrugged. “Yah, that was bad too.”

  Clearly he meant more, but what?

  “You do understand,” Milton said.

  Only she didn’t. What did he mean?

  “Even my sister has caught on to the changing times,” Milton continued.

  “Teacher Nancy? What about her?”

  Milton glanced at Lydia. “You wouldn’t believe what Nancy is up to.”

  Lydia tried to smile. “I’m sure Teacher Nancy can stay out of trouble. We all think the best of her.”

  Milton gave a little laugh. “Nancy’s already in plenty of trouble, and I kind of admire her for it, but…” Milton gave Lydia a long look. “Are you really going through with your baptismal class next Sunday?”

  “Of course!” The exclamation burst into the silent air. “Why don’t you join the new baptismal class this fall?”

  Milton laughed again. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Why don’t you come back and enjoy your rumspringa time a little more?”

  So that was it. Thankfully an Englisha car appeared in the distance and slowed down.

  “Looks like your first customer has arrived. Should I stay around and help?” Milton said.

  “I can manage.” She gave him a nervous smile.

  “I’m staying all the same,” he said, moving to the back of the stand where he shuffled around some empty boxes.

  Lydia greeted the lady who climbed out of the car. “Goot morning.”

  “Good morning to you, and what a fine day,” the lady responded. “I thought I’d get out early and begin my day like you Amish do. I was sure you’d be open already.” The lady gave Lydia a big smile. “I figured that Henry Miller’s stand would be a sure hit again this fall. I know by midday the lines will be long, and I hate waiting.”

  “I hope so,” Lydia agreed. “Do you live close by?”

  “Up toward Heuvelton.” The lady smiled again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Mrs. Langhorne. We might be seeing a lot of each other this fall. That is, if you—”

  “Oh, I’m here till Christmas,” Lydia hurried to say. “And I’m Lydia Mast. I’m sure my Uncle Henry will be delighted that he already has a regular customer.”

  “Yes, that would be me,” Mrs. Langhorne said as she placed some apples and fresh cabbage in her handbasket.

  “We have some just ripened tomatoes,” Lydia offered.

  “Oh yes,” Mrs. Langhorne said. “Let me have three, and I think that’ll be all for today.”

  Lydia tallied up the purchase, and Mrs. Langhorne paid. With a wave of her hand she was off. “Ta-ta! See you soon.”

  “You are a natural at this,” Milton said once the car had disappeared.

  “Thank you,” Lydia replied. She allowed the compliment to seep all the way through her.

  “Surely you understood what I was getting at before,” Milton went on.

  Lydia sighed. “No, I don’t think I do. You’re not talking sense.”

  “Well, then I’ll just tell you plain. My sister Nancy is seeing an Englisha man.”

  “Teacher Nancy?” The words exploded out of Lydia’s mouth.

  Milton winced. “Yah. I saw them together myself last Friday night when I stopped by Nancy’s place. Nancy had the drapes drawn.” He shrugged. “I peeked in anyway. She’s my sister and I have a right to know. They were eating supper at the dining room table.”

  “That can’t be!” Lydia stammered. “Not Teacher Nancy! An Englisha man?”

  His smile was thin. “Things are changing, Lydia. You should think twice about being baptized on Sunday. You should think of something else, just like I am. If Nancy doubts the faith, then…well, I’ve had plenty of doubts myself, and now…”

  “Then it is true about you?” She took him by the arm. “You’re planning to jump the fence, aren’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Milton said in defense. “But I might.”

  Lydia trembled and let go of Milton’s arm to grab the wooden stand in front of her. “I don’t believe you about Teacher Nancy,” she said. “You’re making up all of this to justify your own rebellion.”

  “I tell you, I saw them,” Milton said. “I’m not making anything up. I just want you to think long and hard before your baptism. Because after that, well…”

  “Yah, I know. But I’ll never leave the community. And if you’re smart, you won’t either.” The blood returned to her face and she stood up straight. Her knees no longer buckled.

  “But there’s a whole world out there to explore, Lydia,” Milton said. “We could travel together with some other young people, maybe to Europe, or at least out West to California. We’ll never get to see the world if we just stay here. The only thing to do in the community is to settle down, marry, have kinner, and grow old.” Milton’s voice was bitter.

  “We will not speak of this anymore,” Lydia ordered.

  She used Mamm’s tone of voice, which was awful—but she couldn’t help herself.

  The grim look grew on Milton’s face. “I suppose you’ll become a submissive Amish woman then. But that explosion a minute ago didn’t sound very meek and quiet to me.”

  “Don’t throw my words back at me!” Lydia snapped.

  Milton appeared hopeful. “I don’t believe you’re Amish at heart, Lydia. You’re hungering instead for adventure and the big, wide world.”

  “I am not.”

  Milton smiled. “‘The lady thou doth protest too much, methinks.’ That’s what the bard says, according to Nancy.”

  Who’s the bard? Lydia almost asked, but Milton was only baiting her. She was sure of that now. Was the man more than half-serious? How could he be with those tall tales about his sister? No doubt Milton wanted to see if he could shake her commitment to the community, which would justify how he had been tempted by the Englisha world. Well, she told herself, she would give him no justification.

  “It is true about Nancy,” Milton said, as if he could read her thoughts.

  With that, he turned and headed up Uncle Henry’s lane, the notes of his happy whistle drifting through the trees. Lydia listened and willed the pounding of her heart to still itself. Milton had asked her to tour the West with him. In almost the same breath he claimed Teacher Nancy had entertained an Englisha man for supper in her own house. It simply wasn’t possible. Yet why would Milton lie? He might stretch the truth, but this had to be more than a stretch. And if Milton had told her what he had really seen, no wonder he was confused. What if it was true? If so, Lydia would have to pray for Teacher Nancy to see the error of her ways.

  Lydia pulled her coat tighter around her as another Englisha car appeared. It slowed down, and she pasted a smile on her face. No matter how strangely this first day at the roadside stand had begun, she would believe that the Lord was with her. Somehow this would all make sense someday. Maybe she had
been sent into Milton’s life to counter the temptations he faced and to build her own resolve. He had opened up to her this morning in a way he never had before. But in so doing, he was asking her to jump the fence with him.

  Lydia pushed away the vision of Milton’s handsome face, and greeted the man and woman as they approached the stand with a cheery, “Goot morning.”

  Chapter Twelve

  On Sunday morning as the clock ticked toward twelve o’clock, Lydia was in Bishop Ezra’s living room along with the other members of the fall baptismal class. Together they sat on a special bench set up close to the ministers’ seats, with Laura seated on Lydia’s left. Lydia kept her head down and her gaze on the floor as Bishop Ezra addressed the room.

  “We have here a row of young people who wish to make their commitment to the Lord and His church today. They have been instructed by our ministers all summer and have prepared their hearts and souls for this holy moment. Our prayers and best wishes have been with them since the beginning of this instruction class. We know that temptations abound in this present evil world. The devil goes about as a roaring lion seeking to devour the Lord’s holy flock. Our flesh is weak, and the Lord knows this. He sends many angels to strengthen us and keep us close to Him, if we but yield our hearts to Him as these young people have done. They are truly an example for all of us. We pray the Lord will protect everyone, as these young people have been protected the past few months.”

  Bishop Ezra paused, his eyes sweeping over the congregation. Lydia dropped her gaze again as the bishop continued. “Now let us come to the Lord in prayer and beseech His further protection on these baptismal applicants as they go forth after their vows into the work of the Lord’s vineyard. Many of them will soon say further vows, those of marriage perhaps, and begin to bring up kinner in the fear of the Lord.”

  Visions of Milton’s face faded in and out in front of Lydia’s eyes. The grains of the bishop’s hardwood floor took the exact shape of Milton’s smile, but they were gone a moment later. Lydia blinked and stared. This was not real, she told herself. Milton’s words on the first day at the roadside stand had been real. She was sure he had said them and meant them, even though he had mentioned nothing further. Yah, he still smiled and greeted her brightly each day, but what passed between them could only be described as the most casual of conversations—the words of two people who weren’t in love with each other. How had things turned far south so quickly?

  Her heart had throbbed with pain all week. Why would Milton ask her to postpone her baptismal vows? Had Milton become a temptation rather than a legitimate love pursuit? Was this what Bishop Ezra referred to with his words of warning? But how could the bishop know? Bishop Ezra hadn’t been there to hear what Milton said, and Milton was sitting this morning in the unmarried men’s section as if he planned to stay in the community forever.

  “I’m coming to your district for the services Sunday,” Milton had told her on Friday evening before she left Uncle Henry’s for the drive over to Lead Mine Road.

  “But it’s my baptismal,” she had gasped. “I thought…”

  “I still want to be there,” he had said, and then he smiled and walked off.

  Milton had smiled at her again this morning when the class had come down from their last instruction time with the ministers. Milton acted as though he fully supported her decision, which made things all the more difficult. Why did the man her heart was drawn to bring her such confusion? Was this love? She had never imagined love to be this way. She was thoroughly befuddled.

  The worst part was she couldn’t talk to anyone. Laura had her own troubles, and Lydia wouldn’t have dared anyway. What Milton had said about his sister Nancy was too explosive for anyone else’s ears, which meant that Milton had trusted her greatly when he shared the news.

  The bishop’s voice broke into Lydia’s thoughts. “Let us pray,” he said. She gathered up her dress as the congregation knelt with the row of baptismal applicants to the sound of shuffling feet.

  While Bishop Ezra led out, Lydia prayed her own silent prayer. Help us all, dear Lord. Times are so confusing that we can hardly see our way. Yet we know that You have promised to be with us—if we surrender our wills to You. You have given us Your Word to believe in, and You have surrounded us with the comforts of home and of those who believe as we do. Bring us through these difficult times. Help us keep our faith, and help Milton make sense out of life. Help me to say the right words if he speaks with me again, and help me to be true to the vows I will make today. Amen.

  Lydia waited as Bishop Ezra finally pronounced the amen, and the shuffle of feet again filled the house. When everyone had seated themselves, Bishop Ezra faced the row of applicants. “Will all of you please kneel to say your vows?”

  Lydia slipped downward as Laura did the same. A soft sob escaped Laura’s lips, and Lydia reached over to hold her twin’s hand. She knew why Laura was crying. John couldn’t be here today to witness this important occasion. Only yesterday John’s family had brought him home from the hospital, but he was still bed-bound. According to the doctor’s advice, John should have stayed longer in Ogdensburg, but the bills had mounted ever higher—and as with everyone in the community, they had no insurance. Already thousands of dollars had been spent, all of it money that no one in the community had. The Yoder family would pay eventually, but with the hope of John’s recovery almost gone, enough had been enough.

  Laura had spent yesterday at the Yoders’ house, while Lydia had come home to help around the house in preparation for her baptism. There would be family over later in the afternoon to visit.

  “They’ve brought him home to die,” Laura had sobbed when she returned in the evening, their horse Maud hitched to the buggy.

  Mamm tried to encourage her daughter. “We must accept the Lord’s will.”

  Laura had rallied with those words and declared, “The Lord will heal him. I know He will!”

  That wasn’t exactly what Mamm meant, but no one had contradicted Laura. The Mast family had been over this ground too often in the past weeks.

  The shuffle of Bishop Ezra’s feet came closer, and Lydia forced herself to focus. This was a most holy moment, and she didn’t want to miss a second.

  Lydia glanced sideways to see a dribble of water falling from Laura’s head. Another stifled sob came from her twin, but Bishop Ezra didn’t seem bothered by her display of emotion. No doubt the bishop thought that Laura’s piety had overcome her.

  Lydia held her breath as the bishop’s black Sunday shoes appeared in front of her. She stared at them. The bishop’s questions came from far away, but she must have answered yah at the proper places. The bishop’s hands settled on her kapp, and three short splashes of water from Deacon William’s pitcher followed. Moments later, the two wives, Elizabeth and Rose, offered their hand to her and helped her rise. With great solemnity each woman kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Welcome to the church, Lydia. We wish you all of the Lord’s goot blessings.”

  Only then did the tears come, but Lydia wiped them away. She was not given to emotion in public, unlike Laura, who was still sobbing openly. Elizabeth came back to take Laura in her arms and whisper further words of encouragement to her. What was said, Lydia couldn’t hear. The actions of the bishop’s frau were comfort enough. The sisters were a part of the community now, and someone would always care.

  As the last song number was given out, Elizabeth returned with Rose to the women’s seating area. Lydia reached over to hold Laura’s hand while the singing rose and fell around them. With the song over, Bishop Ezra dismissed the service. Laura remained seated and Lydia stayed beside her. Mamm hurried over to sit on the bench on the other side of Laura.

  At least Laura’s sobs had ceased, though her face was still pale and drained. Unless the Lord gave extra grace, the Mast family wouldn’t be able to stand much more of this sorrow. That, or John’s sufferings would soon end with his passing. If that happened, Laura would be grief-stricken, but she could also b
egin to heal. So far there had been only hope denied, and they all were feeling the strain.

  “Come, Laura,” Mamm whispered. “They need these benches to make tables for the meal.”

  Lydia nodded and stood with Mamm’s grip firm on her arm. She stepped back to give the two room to pass. Laura was better off in the kitchen, where she could help with tasks that didn’t require many steps. Lydia would volunteer to help serve the married men’s table as she always did here in the district. Some things never changed.

  Before Lydia could move on, several of the married women walked over to shake her hand and offer their encouragement.

  “Welcome to the family,” the first one said, and they all gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and wished her the Lord’s blessings.

  Lydia moved again when Teacher Nancy appeared in her side vision. Lydia took a quick breath.

  “Did I startle you?” Nancy asked with a soft smile.

  “Yah, I guess so.” Confusion raced through Lydia’s mind. All she could hear was Milton saying, “My sister Nancy is seeing an Englisha man.”

  Lydia forced herself to focus and smile.

  “Are you okay?” Nancy’s hand was gentle on her arm. “I had to come and welcome one of my beloved students to the church family.”

  “Thank you,” Lydia whispered. “I have no regrets.”

  Nancy looked at her strangely. “I should hope not. That would be a shame after such sober and solemn vows.”

  Milton doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Lydia decided. There was no way Teacher Nancy could have been eating in secret with an Englisha man. Someone who did so would never say such words to her. Lydia forced another smile. “I have wunderbah memories of our days in your classroom. I shall never forget what you taught us.”

  Nancy nodded. “That’s nice to hear, and the feeling is mutual. I have loved you and Laura as if you were my own kinner. Teaching has been one of the blessings the Lord has allowed me to bear.”