Always Close to Home

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Milton pulled on Lydia’s hand. “We’ll win this race. I know we will.”

  “I’ll try my best,” she told him.

  “You are the best,” he whispered.

  With a pounding heart Lydia took her place at Milton’s side.

  “You have to keep a hold of your partner’s hand,” the commanding voice instructed. Lydia couldn’t make out his face, but he sounded like one of the older unmarried men. Maybe her cousin Benny Mast.

  “Now on the count of three,” the voice said, “skate all the way to the end of the pond. Touch the shoreline with at least one of the partners, and then back. Take care—and one…two… three!”

  Milton pulled on her hand, and Lydia pushed down on her skates with all the strength she had. They sped across the ice and soon overtook the front-runners. Milton hung on to her hand with both of his at the end of the pond, and she bent down to touch the shore. They were off again in one quick swoop. None of the other couples executed the move with such smoothness, gaining Milton and Lydia precious seconds.

  “You’re a goot skater,” Milton muttered in Lydia’s ear as they raced back across the pond. Lydia hung on to Milton’s arm as he slowed down with several final twirls on the ice. Her heart pounded in her ears, and laughter rose up from deep inside of her. They had won. She had not held back Milton, the best skater among the young unmarried men.

  Was this her miracle? Or the beginning of her miracle? What else could it be, but a sign from the Lord to comfort her heart?

  “We won,” she managed, once Milton had finished his last twirl.

  “You won,” he said. “You really were goot.”

  She held on to him, wanting to never let go. But of course that wasn’t possible. Another race was being organized.

  “Winners can’t be in this one!” someone shouted.

  There was laughter and general agreement. Lydia didn’t have the strength left anyway, which gave her a few moments alone at Milton’s side. He didn’t seem to mind as the next race was called out.

  “Nancy’s wedding was very beautiful,” Milton said as he watched the skaters racing for the distant shore.

  Lydia didn’t respond. She couldn’t speak. She had known this couldn’t last, but for it to end so quickly…Couldn’t the Lord have allowed her a few hours of hope?

  “Did I say something wrong?” Milton looked down at her.

  Lydia shook her head because he hadn’t. She was the one who couldn’t respond to his offer.

  “We are so goot together, Lydia,” he said. “You could still come with me.”

  Lydia closed her eyes and allowed the tears to run. She couldn’t see anything when the skaters returned with another close call at the race’s end. Milton cheered the winners, but she couldn’t move, let alone cheer. She let go of his arm and skated back to the fire with arms outstretched. She felt frozen and needed the warmth.

  She was frozen, Lydia told herself. Her heart was as cold as a spring calf caught in a snowstorm. She had no one and no shelter from this storm. She would never experience her miracle.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Lydia was driving Maud slowly up Highway 11 toward Heuvelton early on a March morning. She had not told an untruth to either Daett or Laura this morning. Someone did need to make a trip into Ogdensburg.

  “The plow tips need replacing before the weather breaks,” Nelson had said at the breakfast table two weeks ago.

  Daett had nodded. “The Ogdensburg store’s the only one with those at a decent price. Maybe I can make the trip before spring gets here.”

  And so the inspiration had been born. Milton had supplied the details of where Nancy lived at the last skating event. He had carefully ignored Lydia since the disastrous moment when she had once more turned down his offer. So in the middle of the evening, she had discreetly found him in a dark corner near Deacon William’s pond.

  He could not have looked more surprised. “You want to visit Nancy?”

  It’s not what you think, she had wanted to say. But of course it was what Milton thought—that she might consult her about jumping the fence. Why else would she visit Nancy?

  “Yah,” she had managed.

  “Just down the street from the First Baptist Church,” Milton had whispered back. “Can you remember the address if I give it to you?”

  “Yah, of course,” she had told him.

  After committing the address to memory, she said nothing else and skated away.

  “Be careful,” Milton had called after her.

  Yah, she would be careful. If Deacon William found out that she had visited Nancy now that she was excommunicated, there would be nothing but trouble. And to make things worse, she had led Milton to believe she might consider jumping the fence with him. She wouldn’t, but that begged the question: Why did she want to speak with Nancy?

  Lydia sighed and jiggled Maud’s reins so that she trotted faster. The truth was, she needed to speak honestly with someone about the turmoil in her heart, or something would burst inside of her. Of course her sister knew she was troubled. Laura knew even amid her joy with John. Daett knew, because Laura had told him. She had heard the two whispering in the living room several times. They always fell silent when she walked in.

  So this morning she had said to them, “I need some time away from the house, if you know what I mean.”

  Daett had agreed without protest. “I’ll send along written instructions about the plow tips we want. Enjoy the long drive.” He gave her a smile that showed he really meant it.

  Lydia checked her dress pocket. The folded paper was still there. She needed instructions because fieldwork was one thing Daett had never taught his daughters. Some of the community girls learned, but Mamm had kept them busy with traditional roles—housework, canning, and a hundred other things related to their eventual marriage.

  Did Daett suspect the real reason for her trip? She wasn’t known for bold moves like Laura was. Instead, Lydia was reduced to sneaking around. That was all the courage she could muster. In her heart she was timid and uncertain about how to obtain what she desired—at least when obstacles stood in her way. Why Milton loved her, she couldn’t imagine. He was so courageous and open about his intentions, and certain of how to accomplish them. He seemed to have no qualms about jumping the fence into the awful Englisha world.

  Lydia winced and almost pulled back on Maud’s reins. She should turn around right now and forget this whole thing. What if Nancy wasn’t at home? Or what if Nancy advised her to make the choice she had made herself? Was that what Lydia wanted to hear? Would that give her the courage to jump the fence once and for all?

  Lydia groaned. Milton still loved her after all the rejections she had given him. How could she walk away from such dedication? Milton could have jumped the fence on his own by now, but he was obviously waiting for her. There could be no other explanation. Milton could see past her firm words and into her heart. He was hoping she was wavering and might give in to what her heart longed for. How she did wish that Milton might be hers and that she might be his, as Laura was John’s.

  Lydia jiggled Maud’s reins. If she didn’t hurry her courage would fail her. She would return home without the plow tips and have to explain the whole thing to Daett. He might understand, but he also might not. Lydia continued to drive, past the signs on Highway 812 that pointed toward the Ogdensburg International Airport. The place seemed strange and impossible. How could there be a connection to the whole world so close to home? From here one could fly anywhere in the world, or at least to places that led to anywhere. Maybe that was the plan she should suggest to Milton. They could both buy plane tickets and fly away, never to return to the community.

  Lydia clutched the reins, and Maud slowed down. No, she could never go through with such a plan, even if Milton agreed. Where would they live once the plane landed? Where would they set up house? There must be money to spend, which required a job. There must be a wedding. The Englisha had preachers, like the one Nancy used to marry C
harles. She had always imagined that Bishop Ezra would join her hand to the man she loved until death parted them. The way Daett had married Mamm, and all the generations before them.

  Oh, if only she could forget Milton, or forget that she loved him, or that he loved her. But did she want that? Weren’t those few evenings she had spent with him and that wunderbah time before Christmas at Uncle Henry’s worth the pain? Even if she never wed him? Even if Milton became a memory?

  At the intersection, Highway 812 turned right toward the tractor supply, and ahead of her was Nancy’s street. She wanted to see Nancy first, but duty called. She would buy what Daett wanted, and then she would visit Nancy.

  Lydia clucked to Maud, and the horse perked up her ears. “We’re almost there,” Lydia said to encourage her. “Just a little ways, and you can catch your breath.”

  Maud seemed to understand. She lowered her head and blew her nostrils.

  As she turned into the store’s parking lot, Lydia pulled back on the reins again and came to a stop. She jumped out to tie Maud to a light post. “I’ll be right back.” She patted the horse’s neck. After a quick look backward, Lydia hurried into the store. A kind-looking older man with a store logo on his shirt appeared in front of her.

  “Can I help you, young lady?” he asked. “I’m Ben.”

  Lydia smiled and handed him the piece of paper Daett had given her.

  Ben grinned. “Got to get it right, I see.”

  “Yah, I don’t know much about farming,” Lydia told him.

  “Come this way then.” Ben moved toward the back of the store. The pieces he showed her were much heavier than she could carry, and Daett wanted four of them.

  Ben read her face well. “Don’t worry, young lady. I’ll get these out for you, even with my old creaking bones. You can push the cart to help.”

  Ben didn’t wait for an answer. He also didn’t pay attention to her muttered protest. In moments he was back with the plow tips loaded in the cart. Lydia grabbed the handle and headed toward the checkout counter. The cart creaked and groaned beneath her as she pushed.

  “Sounds about like me.” Ben chuckled as he followed Lydia. At the counter she paid with the bills Daett had given her, and then she pointed the cart toward the front doors. Ben waited there and held them open for her. Maud turned her head their way and watched them come across the parking lot.

  “Howdy there,” Ben said to the horse, and turned to Lydia. “What’s her name?”

  “Maud.”

  “Nice name for a horse.” He loaded the plow tips in the back as if he had done this before and knew where buggies hauled their cargo. “Nice doing business with you Amish people,” he said. “Be sure and come back.”

  Lydia smiled her thanks to Ben, untied Maud, and climbed in the buggy. He waited to see her off, and she waved from halfway across the parking lot. He had pushed her cart back toward the store and paused to wave back. What a nice man Ben was. Maybe the Englisha world wouldn’t be as bad as she had thought.

  Lydia pinched herself and focused on the drive toward Nancy’s. She didn’t belong out here, and yet she wanted to speak with her former teacher. She was really confused. And here she had always thought she was the stable one, while Laura did sudden and bold things. How wrong she had been. Laura had turned out much more stable. That was plain enough to see.

  Lydia turned Maud north at the next intersection, and the horse shook her head. “We’ll be going home soon,” she encouraged Maud again.

  Nancy’s street soon appeared, and the First Baptist Church was where Milton told her it would be. Lydia shivered as she drove past the building. The brick facade and the rounded arches seemed so cold compared to services held at Bishop Ezra’s home. How did Nancy say her marriage vows with Charles inside that structure? Clearly there were nice people in the Englisha world, but it was still the Englisha world—strange and distant.

  Lydia slowed down when the correct house number appeared. The color was what Milton said it would be, and the porches were huge. She could almost imagine a swing hanging from the ceiling if the brick steps hadn’t spoiled the effect. No Amish home would have such an extravagance. Lydia pushed the thought aside and found a street sign to tie up to. She left Maud staring after her as she quickly walked up to the front door. There was a doorbell, and Lydia pressed the button. Footsteps came at once, and Nancy’s face appeared—only the face wasn’t quite familiar. And yet it was, but so much had changed. Nancy’s dress and hair and…

  “Lydia!” Nancy exclaimed. “I’m so glad to see you! Milton said you might visit.”

  “Yah, it’s me.” Lydia stared at the new Nancy before her.

  “Come right inside. You’re so welcome.” Nancy held the door open.

  Lydia managed to enter without tripping over the doorstep. Her feet seemed unwilling to move.

  “I just finished the wash,” Nancy said, “and I was ready to go downtown, so you got here just in time.”

  Lydia tried to breathe evenly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Not at all,” Nancy assured her. “I’m so glad you came, although won’t this get you in trouble?”

  “They don’t know I’m here.” Lydia blushed. “I offered to drive to the tractor supply for Daett, and I wanted to get away from the house. Everything’s so…”

  Nancy smiled. “You don’t have to explain. I understand, but I’m glad things worked out for Laura and John. I’m sure you feel the same way.”

  “Of course.”

  “This is about Milton and you, isn’t it?”

  Alarm filled Lydia’s face. “Has Milton told you?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Milton doesn’t say much, but I know my brother and I know you. He wants the two of you to jump the fence, doesn’t he?”

  “Yah,” Lydia whispered. “He’s asked me a few times already, and I keep saying I won’t do it. And yet…”

  “I understand.” Nancy gave Lydia a quick hug. “Do you want to jump the fence like I did?”

  “In the worst way, no.” Lydia looked away. “But…”

  “There is Milton,” Nancy finished. “How complicated things do become.”

  “I’d be excommunicated like you are,” Lydia blurted out. “Is it worth it?”

  Nancy’s smile was thin. “You shouldn’t look to me as your example, Lydia. We all have our own choices to make, and none of them are the same. There was a time when I would have given almost anything to have your daett wed me. I was in love, as much as a young girl could be, and look where I am now. I couldn’t walk away from what the Lord had sent into my life, even for a chance to return to what I once had. By the time the opportunity arose again, I didn’t even want it anymore.”

  Nancy paused for a second. “I hear your daett is getting along great with Sherry Yoder. I think that proves my point, doesn’t it? We should never settle for second-best, Lydia. Only you know what is best in your situation. Ask yourself, “Does my love for Milton and his love for me call us to accept what is second-best?” Because true love never asks us to step down, but to step up. If Milton isn’t giving you what is best, then your love for each other won’t make up for the lack. Nothing will.” Nancy reached over to squeeze Lydia’s arm. “Does that help?”

  Lydia tried to smile. “That’s a little deep, I guess. Did you learn those words from the Englisha?”

  Nancy laughed. “Maybe, but I doubt it. I think they were always in my heart. Why else would I have dared marry Charles? Now shouldn’t you be going before someone from the community drives past and sees your buggy?”

  They both laughed.

  “Yah, and with me, that could happen,” Lydia added.

  “Let me get a bucket of water for your horse,” Nancy said. “We have one right in the closet here I can use. Maud’s her name, right?”

  Lydia nodded and waited while Nancy filled the bucket from the kitchen sink. Together they took the pail to Maud, who drank eagerly.

  “Thanks,” Lydia told Nancy. “That was kind of y
ou.”

  “You choose what’s best now. Don’t forget that.” Nancy stroked Maud’s neck.

  “Thanks,” Lydia said as she climbed back in the buggy. Nancy untied Maud and tossed her the tie rope. With a wave of her hand Nancy let go of Maud’s bridle, and Lydia was off down the street. When she turned to look back, Nancy had disappeared inside the house.

  “What’s best for me?” Lydia whispered to herself. “What’s best for Milton and me?”

  But she already knew.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Dusk had fallen on Sunday evening, and Laura was sitting on the Yoders’ living room couch with her hand clasped in John’s. She had driven Maud home from the hymn singing with John seated beside her. In the old days John would have driven her to her house for their date, but this was no longer the old days. Many things had changed for them, but not their love for each other.

  They had weathered every storm thrown at them, even when the Lord had willed that John should remain blind after the accident. Yet the Lord had chosen to give them each other. And was that not enough? From his smile, John seemed to think so, and Laura’s heart was so full of joy she could almost burst. On top of that, their wedding lay in front of them this spring. Beyond lay years and years—if the Lord willed it—in which she would love John with all of her heart.

  Laura smiled up into John’s face. “You look hungry tonight. Shall I bring you something to eat?”

  “Yah.” His smile grew. “Mamm has some brownies ready, I think.”

  “I brought chocolate chip cookies along,” she said. “But they’re still in the buggy.”

  “That’s even better.” John chuckled. “I thought I smelled them on the ride home.”

  “You did not,” Laura chided. “But I’ll go get them.”

  John didn’t protest. He stayed on the couch, his smile undimmed as Laura ran through the darkness to the buggy and retrieved the plate of cookies from the back. She should have brought them in when she arrived with John, but she had been too distracted. John still did that to her. He overwhelmed her senses so that she couldn’t see or feel anything else.