Loving Mariah

by Beverly Bird

  “No,” she repeated. “He’s your son. He belongs with you.”

  An odd sensation went through him. It started with a hard thump of his heart, then a vague tingling went through his limbs. He forgot to breathe, and when he did, it was in a harsh burst.

  Gratitude, he thought. It was purely gratitude, sweet and strong. She was on his side. Despite her comfort, her help, until that moment he hadn’t entirely been sure.

  “The problem is how to separate him,” Mariah went on. “How to do it most kindly.” She stood again. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “You wanted to go to the pond. If they’re not there yet, we can always drive around a bit while we wait.”

  “Trust me, there’s nothing left for me to see. I’ve covered every inch of this place six times in the last few days.”

  “Ah, but you didn’t know then which one was Sugar Joe’s farm, did you?”

  His heart thumped again. No, he thought, he hadn’t known which was Bo’s home. He zipped his jacket—and suddenly remembered her doing it the night before.

  “What did Bo say yesterday, when I took off?” he asked as they went to the door, and again his voice was strained. He’d meant to ask her the previous night, and had somehow forgotten as their conversation had wandered.

  “Mikey Gehler asked, ‘Who is that crazy anner Satt Leit?’” she replied.

  “Huh?”

  “Outsider. Technically, it’s German for ‘the other sort of people.”’

  “Did it ever occur to you guys that you’ve got it backward? That there are more of us than there are of you, and that we got here first?”

  “No. Never once.” And he knew before he looked at her that she would be smiling.

  He opened the car door for her. “So what did Bo do when Mikey said that?”

  “He laughed, looked around and saw that no one was near the puck. Then he raced back and scored a goal while everyone’s guard was down.”

  Adam found he could still laugh. “That’s my boy.”

  They watched the hockey game until dark began to fall. They stood at the edge of the field near Adam’s car, and if any of the kids wondered why the crazy anner Satt Leit had come to watch them again, they didn’t ask. In fact, they didn’t pay any attention at all.

  Bo scored the game-winning goal.

  Adam almost shouted. He could see it happening before it actually did, watched it all unfold in sort of split-second freeze frames. Five or six boys were checking each other madly at one edge of the pond. Adam knew that it was more for the sheer fun of knocking each other down than to advance the game. He grinned, glanced at Mariah, and found her doing the same. Something shifted and settled inside him.

  Then the puck squirted out from all the feet and blades. Bo had been at the far end of the ice, skating hard toward the commotion, and Adam guessed he’d had every intention of piling on with the others. But then he saw the puck come free and he braked, ice spraying, and came around it. He slapped it squarely and it went airborne.

  Adam watched in slow motion as it seemed to hover, then it dropped down neatly behind the goalie’s shoulder. Pandemonium erupted. Bo thrust his hands and his stick in the air. The knot of wrestling kids broke up, and those who were apparently his teammates fell upon him instead.

  “He’s certainly quick,” Mariah observed. “He doesn’t let much opportunity get past him.”

  Adam opened his mouth to answer and realized his throat was closed tight. He coughed. “It’s in his genes.”

  She cocked a brow at him.

  “The athleticism.” And then, because it sounded like he was tooting his own horn, he added, “His uncle was a hell of a quarterback. He played football.”

  “Like you played baseball? For money?”

  Adam shook his head. “No. Jake knows just when and where to draw the line, so he doesn’t get too involved in anything he might enjoy too much.”

  As soon as he said it, he was shaken by his own observation But he thought about it as he turned back to the car, and it was true. It was even evident in the lecture his brother had given him before he’d flown up here.

  If this one doesn’t pan out, maybe you ought to think about shelving it. That was Jake. Give up, give out, before it gets too good...before it hurts.

  Adam wondered if it had something to do with this almost magically peaceful land, that lately he seemed to be understanding things he’d never really thought about before. He wondered if it was the woman who walked beside him. He realized that he talked to her almost as if he was talking to himself aloud. And she was always listening.

  “I’d buy you dinner,” he heard himself say, “but I guess restaurants are on the blacklist, huh?”

  “To eat in one, yes. To eat from one, no.”

  He gave her an exasperated look. “What’s the difference this time?”

  “Family, Adam.”

  “Cut me a break. There’s no connection.”

  “There certainly is. If you’re in a restaurant, there are interruptions. Waiters, other people at other tables. You can’t focus on your own. Meals should be taken at one’s own table or at the table of a friend. Besides, restaurants are worldly.”

  He stopped at the car and looked over it at her. “But if I go to a restaurant, buy takeout and bring it to your house, that’s okay.”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, man.”

  “Is that an invitation, Adam?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He got behind the wheel. Why not? He’d eat a frozen dinner at his desk, alone. She’d eat a home-cooked meal in her pretty kitchen, alone. They might as well eat together, and he’d spare her the work.

  He realized that he was trying just a little too hard to rationalize the decision. That image of her long hair and her nightgown still had a way of flashing before him at odd times, and it worried him.

  Hell, it panicked him.

  “Then I accept,” she said quietly.

  “I’ll drop you off and go back out.”

  “That would be fine.”

  Neither one of them spoke again until he had stopped in front of her house. “There’s something I don’t understand here,” he said finally.

  “Just one thing?”

  He looked at her sharply and realized she was teasing. He managed a small smile. “Okay, a lot of things, but this one stands out. If you’re already being shunned, then why worry about all the other little fine points of the—what did you call it?”

  “The Ordnung.”

  “Yeah. I mean, you went to school, so they shut you out. But you still avoid restaurants and you power your refrigerator with a battery. Isn’t it a little late to be worrying about that stuff?”

  “I power my refrigerator with a hydraulic motor.”

  He made a sound of exasperation. “Same difference.”

  Mariah sighed. “It’s pride, I’d guess.”

  “I thought that was a sin among you folks.”

  “It is, but it’s also human nature, so it’s difficult to stomp out.”

  He thought about that and finally nodded.

  “For instance, the Ordnung says a man should wear his hair to a length just about here.” She touched a finger beneath her earlobe. “My father wears it even longer. Why? Because he takes pride in being well within the rules. Is the church going to chastise him for being overly devout? No, of course not. So his pride...flourishes. As for me, I really do believe in the Ordnung, Adam. I think that, for the most part, it is a right and good thing. I think family, children should be the focus of one’s life. And I follow that dictate for my own gratification now. Just as my father wears his hair longer than he has to, I observe rules I am no longer technically bound by. Just...because.”

  “I thought maybe you were hoping they’ll...I don’t know, relent. That the church will change their minds about you if you’re good enough for long enough.”

  Her violet eyes widened a little and pain shimmied briefly inside her. “You’re wiser than you give yoursel
f credit for,” she said softly. “But it won’t happen. I know that.”

  He was inordinately pleased that he was right. And that she admitted it. And he was angered that her people could be so rigid and stubborn.

  “Why?” he demanded.

  “They fought the government on the education issue, Adam, and fighting is not their policy. That’s how strongly they feel about it. They think that everything we need to know is taught before high school. Taking more time than that for studies would just pull us away from our—”

  “Families,” he interrupted.

  “Yes. And it would make us worldly, would make us want more.”

  “But you’ve proved that’s not the case, damn it! You came back.” He couldn’t say why he was getting angry.

  She sighed again. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “So what are you going to do?” he demanded.

  “Do?”

  “Are you just going to live out the rest of your life here? On the boundaries?” And then his heart pounded, because he wondered what he was really asking. He wondered if her answer was so important, if maybe, just maybe he had been leading up to it all along.

  “Probably,” she answered softly.

  “That’s crazy.” His anger was growing. “You’re young. You could have a husband, children. You said you wanted children. And you sure as hell can’t marry a man who can’t see you, right? So you’re just going to stay here and give all that up?”

  “I can’t many,” she agreed without answering. “Not within the church. No one can marry a shunned member. The deacons wouldn’t approve it, wouldn’t recognize the union.”

  “So you’ll just...wither up and die here,” he said cruelly. “Alone.”

  Her expression crumbled for a moment, and he felt like hell for hurting her. But damn it, he wasn’t the one who had shunned her.

  “I’m not all that unhappy, Adam,” she said finally.

  Her eyes said differently. “You have a lot more to give,” he snapped.

  She ducked her head. He thought she was blushing again.

  “What about that other county you’ve talked about?” he demanded. “Berks? You said they can see you there.”

  “Yes. They’re mostly New Order in Berks. We’re Old Order.”

  “So go live there.”

  “My family is here.”

  “They don’t even see you!” He swore. It was her choice, damn it. Her life. If she wanted to waste it, that was her business.

  “I might be forced to move, sooner or later,” she said finally, thoughtfully. “I have to support myself. The settlement can‘t—won’t—help me, as they do others who fall upon hard times.”

  “You’re running out of money?” he asked sharply. “I have plenty. I’ll give you some.”

  She looked up at him, her jaw falling open. Then she gave that laugh again, the one that sounded like something silvery falling.

  “Don’t be silly, Adam. Why in the world would you want to give me money?”

  He hadn’t a clue. To let her go on leading this chastised, empty life he thought was wrong? And the fact was, he didn’t have all that much money left, anyway; not if he was going to keep on funding ChildSearch to the extent he did, not if he had to keep paying rent plus two mortgages.

  He looked away from her, glaring out his side window. “I haven’t been all that...kind to you,” he said finally, roughly. “I guess I just wanted to do something to thank you.”

  “No thanks are necessary, Adam. And you haven’t been unkind. You’ve just been...you. Determined. In a hurry.”

  He made a noncommittal sound deep in his throat.

  “Besides, I have very few needs, and as long as I can teach, I can pay my way,” she went on. “I’ve even managed to save a little bit. And it would only become a problem if they find someone else to take my school. Then I would have to go to whatever Gemeide had an opening, whichever one would tolerate me, assuming I could find one here in Lancaster County. If not, I’d have to go to Berks.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Adam?”

  “What?” he growled.

  “I’m starving.”

  He finally looked back at her again. “So get out and let me go find us something to eat.”

  She gave him a rare full smile, and left the car. He saw that smile for a long time after she had gone inside her little house and shut the door behind her.

  Chapter 7

  Adam drove down to Strasburg, the largest, nearest town. It didn’t seem to be part of the “settlement,” as Mariah called it. It was moving, alive with people like himself, though admittedly the business district was only five blocks long.

  He hadn’t realized how much he missed the real world. Even at his motel, he’d remained mostly isolated. All his contact lately had been with the Amish. With Mariah. Now he thirsted for the cacophony of civilization. He savored the smell of exhaust fumes and the ringing of telephones. For maybe the first time in his life, he wasn’t impatient when a girl broke off from taking his order to glance up at the television affixed to a corner of the ceiling.

  And nowhere, he thought, no matter where he looked, did he see any beautiful women in long white nightgowns with spilling hair. At least here he wasn’t tempted into wanting something he couldn’t possibly have.

  He didn’t know if she had any food taboos and decided to play it safe. He found an Italian place and bought a pizza. Then he went four doors down and picked up a quart of chow mein and some egg rolls. Finally he found a chicken place. He got a bucket of extra crispy, another of barbecue, some mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Satisfied, he drove back to Divinity.

  When Mariah opened her door, her eyes widened. “Adam, what have you done?”

  He juggled his purchases. “Let me in so I can put some of this down, will you?”

  She stepped back, then followed him, her hand clapped to her mouth. When everything was spread out on her kitchen table, she shook her head slowly. “I’m...amazed.”

  “I didn’t know what you liked.”

  She pried open the carton of chow mein. “All of it.” She grinned. “I’ll get plates.”

  She ate with relish. It pleased him, that he had finally done something for her, something she seemed to appreciate. Her sheer enjoyment of the food warmed something inside him again.

  “Oh. this is good,” she said, swallowing a mouthful of egg roll, biting into a piece of pizza.

  “You’re going to be sick.” The only thing she had barely touched was the corn, and he was in agreement with her there. He was pretty sure it had been frozen.

  “Yes, probably. I have working plumbing.”

  “Not against the Ordnung?”

  “I have a septic tank, not sewer. So—”

  “You’re not dependent on the outside world,” he finished for her.

  “Right.” She finished the pizza and went for another slice. “Adam, I’ve been thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “About your Bo.”

  She was almost sorry she had mentioned it. For whole periods of time, since he had come back with the food, he had seemed almost relaxed. Now his face hardened again.

  “We need to speak to Sugar Joe,” she rushed on. “He should be told what’s happening, that you’ve come.” Now that Katya knew, rumors would begin circulating, she thought. And she didn’t want Joe to hear about this that way.

  Adam didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. “Yeah,” he agreed cautiously. “I’m all for it.” It had been killing him, he realized, knowing there was another man out there, a faceless man, presuming to be Bo’s father. No matter how good, how kind that man might be, no matter how well he had taken care of Bo over the years, Adam hated him.

  Pride, he thought. Ego. He watched Mariah reach for more chicken.

  “Where the he—” He cleared his throat. “Where are you putting all that? You’re eating like a truck driver.”

  She glanced up at him, chewing, a
nd swallowed prettily. “I don’t know when I’ll have such bounty again. This is not something I ever do.”

  He thought of what she had said about college. I wrung everything out of the experience that was there for the taking. For all her prim femininity, there was a certain gusto lurking just beneath it, he realized, then he decided he didn’t want to think about that too much. Because he found himself wondering just how that gusto might manifest itself in other areas.

  He pushed the container of potatoes her way.

  “Thank you.” She dug in with a spoon for all she was worth. He gave a bark of laughter and she smiled again.

  “Anyway, about this Sugar Joe,” he went on finally. “I don’t imagine I can simply go up and knock on his door and say, ‘Excuse me, I’m your kid’s father.”’

  “Well, no. That’s not what I would recommend. Oh, he’d certainly be polite. But think of the shock you’d give the poor man. Think of the effect such an announcement would have on Bo, if he happened to be within hearing distance at the time.”

  Adam sobered. “I do, Mariah. Trust me. I think about that every minute of every day.” Except, he realized, on those numerous occasions when she somehow diverted him.

  “I think I should approach him,” she went on. “I could try to arrange for us to talk.”

  “How? How can you do that if he doesn’t see you?”

  “Ah. Well. Sugar Joe is from Berks County. Remember, I told you that?”

  “So he sees you.” Adam scowled. “Why do I feel another contradiction coming on here?”

  A corner of her mouth lifted. “No contradiction. Technically, he can’t see me, either.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “That he might if no one is looking.” His expression warned her that he was running out of patience again. She rushed on. “The Berks County Gemeides don’t practice the Meidung. Of course, Sugar Joe had to convert to our more strict church in order to marry Sarah, or else she would have been shunned by her own people.” His expression darkened. “Never mind,” she said quickly. “My point is that Sugar Joe was raised in a certain way, and I can personally attest to the fact that the heart seems to cling to whatever you were used to as a child, no matter how much your head tries to convince you otherwise. I honestly don’t think he approves of the Meidung. as much as he goes along with it for Sarah’s sake. He might sneak aside to see me, to talk to me.”