Blessings

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  “How do I get it?”

  “You have to take a test to show your knowledge of the general education subjects.”

  Trina sucked in a worried breath. Would that include physics? “Can I take the test on the computer?” She peered over Beth’s shoulder at the Web site sponsored by the Kansas Board of Regents.

  “No, I’m afraid not.” Beth pointed to the screen. “You have to go to one of the testing sites. It looks like the closest one for you would be Hutchinson.”

  Trina cringed. “Hutchinson? But we hardly ever go there.”

  Beth continued tapping buttons, leaning close to the screen. “Looks like you’ll need to plan a trip. And you’ll need some sort of identification.” She scowled at Trina briefly. “Do you have a Kansas ID card or a driver’s license?”

  Trina drew back. “No. I’ve just worked here in town, so I’ve never needed an ID. And I haven’t learned to drive yet, so I don’t have a license.”

  Beth shook her head, her long, blond ponytail swishing back and forth over her shoulders. “Well, you’ll need an accepted form of identification to prove you live in Kansas, so you’d better plan to get one or the other.” She clicked a few more keys, adding, “In addition to the GED, you’ll also need to take the ACT—nearly every college requires the scores from that test, as well.”

  “Another test?” Trina yanked a chair from the dining table and flopped into it. “There are so many steps! This is going to take forever!”

  Beth swiveled again to look at Trina. Her serious expression held Trina’s attention. “Is it worth it?”

  Trina gulped.

  “Is it what you’re supposed to do?”

  Trina hung her head.

  “If so, then don’t see the steps as roadblocks but as stepping-stones to your goal.” Beth touched Trina’s arm. “Anything worth having is worth working for.”

  Tears pricked Trina’s eyes. Head still down, she said, “Do you know you’re the only person who is encouraging me instead of telling me I’m doing the wrong thing?”

  “Even Andrew?”

  Trina sighed. In the past, she and Andrew had been each other’s cheerleaders. She’d always encouraged him to pursue his dream of art despite his family’s misgivings. It hurt that he didn’t reciprocate now. “Livvy’s problems have changed his focus. He thinks I’m foolish to put aside marrying Graham and having children just to. . .” She cringed, remembering the sting of his words. “To take care of sick kittens.”

  “Aw, Trina. . .” Beth leaned back and nibbled her lower lip. “Well, it is kind of odd, isn’t it, for someone from your religious group to want to go to college?”

  Trina shrugged. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s thought about it, but as far as I know, I’m the only one from Sommerfeld who’s ever tried to follow through.” Wrinkling her nose, she admitted, “They’ll probably kick me out.”

  “Out of what?”

  Trina released a dramatic sigh. “Out of my family, out of the fellowship, out of town.”

  Beth started to laugh, and despite herself, Trina joined in. The laughter relieved some of her tension. Little wonder the Bible said laughter was good for the soul.

  Beth tipped her head, her expression thoughtful. “Trina, why is your sect so opposed to higher education? What does college hurt?”

  Trina shrugged. “Mostly there’s a fear of young people losing their sense of self and their faith if they get caught up in the world out there.” She swung her hand in the direction of the window. “The more things you’re exposed to, the less satisfied you become with simplicity, so by limiting our experiences, we remain content where we are.”

  Beth nodded slowly. “I suppose that makes sense. It’s the main reason Sean and I attend the church in Carston rather than joining the fellowship here. We’re Christians, but we’ve lived our lives with stuff.” She gave the computer monitor a pat. “And having sampled all of that, it’s hard to let it go. Besides”—she shrugged—“I believe I can follow God without wearing a certain kind of clothes or doing without the world’s conveniences.”

  Trina slid her fingers down the length of her cap’s ribbons. “I understand. And truly, I don’t want to leave the fellowship. I love my faith and how we express it. When I put on my dress and cap, it reminds me where I belong, and there’s a security I wouldn’t trade. I just want to be allowed to follow my heart.” Releasing the ribbons, she wove her fingers together and pressed her hands to her apron. “Do you know in Pennsylvania, some Old Order Mennonite youth have been allowed to attend college? Their bishop approved it because it was training that would benefit the community as a whole.”

  “Having a real veterinarian in the community would be good for Sommerfeld,” Beth observed in a thoughtful tone.

  “I think so, too.”

  “So maybe your bishop will approve it.”

  Trina grimaced. “The bishop might, eventually, but my dad? When Dad read about those youth going to college, he was very upset. He said it would lead to trouble.” She shuddered. “He’ll be very upset with me when he finds out what I’m doing.”

  Beth sat quietly, looking hard into Trina’s face. “Should you tell your parents what you’re planning before you get too far into it?”

  Trina’s chest constricted. “I want it to be a. . .surprise.”

  Beth crunched her forehead. “Well, sometimes surprises aren’t all that pleasant. I kept secret where I was and what I was doing when I was learning the art of stained glass in order to surprise my mom, and it turned out to be pretty hurtful before the truth came out. Remember everybody in town thought I was stealing from them because I wouldn’t tell anybody where I really was? Maybe it would be better to tell your mom and dad up front and—”

  “No.” The word came out more forcefully than Trina intended. She took a breath to calm her racing heart and spoke in an even tone. “I’ll tell them after I’ve gotten enrolled in a college. If they see how much it means to me, it should make it easier for them to accept.”

  “I suppose you know best.” Beth sounded uncertain.

  Trina gave an emphatic nod. “Yes, I do.”

  “All right, then.” Beth swung around to face the computer, pointing to the screen. “This says there’s a fee to take the test. You can retake it if you don’t pass, but you have to pay again each time. There’s also a practice test.” Beth sent Trina a speculative look. “I think that sounds like a good idea. For your peace of mind, if nothing else.”

  Trina squinted at the screen’s small print. “How much does the practice test cost?”

  “Twenty-five dollars.”

  Trina sat back, thinking about her bank account. “A small price to pay for peace of mind.”

  “So. . .” Beth tapped her lips with her finger. “Before you can sign up to take the practice test, you’ve got to be able to identify yourself. Should we download the test booklet for a Kansas driver’s license so you can start studying?”

  Trina thought about Graham’s offer to teach her to drive. Would he still be willing? He hadn’t come by to see her since Monday. Maybe asking him would give them some time together to mend their torn relationship. “Yes.” She bobbed her head in one quick nod. “Please do.”

  “Tuh–ree–na!” Graham held to the dashboard of the car as it bucked like an untamed colt. “Let out on the clutch!”

  Trina’s knee left the seat, and the car died. A whirl of dust from the county road drifted through the open window, and she coughed.

  “But not that fast.” Graham wiped his forehead with an already-soggy bandanna. When Trina had called yesterday evening and asked so sweetly if he would teach her to drive, he’d had no idea what he was getting himself into. He hadn’t been opposed to spending time with her—he’d missed her tremendously over the week—but she was aging him fast with her mistakes. He just hoped she wasn’t damaging the car’s gears.

  She peeked at him with a contrite expression. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing it on purpose. I just can’t seem t
o get my feet to work together.”

  Looking into her brown eyes, Graham melted. “You’ll get it. It just takes some practice to get the out-and-down right. Remember, out on the clutch, down on the gas. The secret is to let up at the same rate you push down. Try it again.”

  Trina thrust her jaw into an adorable stubborn set, pushed down on the clutch, turned the ignition key, and tapped the gas pedal until the engine caught. “Okay, here we go.” And go they did! The car lurched forward.

  Trina screeched, “Whoa!” And the car died.

  Graham laughed uncontrollably, holding his belly. After several moments, Trina bumped him on the shoulder with the heel of her hand.

  “Stop laughing at me!”

  He coughed to bring himself under control, but when he looked into her stern face, he erupted again. Her scowl deepened. He held up both hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry. No more. But you said ‘Whoa,’ and the car stopped. Don’t you think that’s funny?”

  “No.” Then she giggled, hunching her shoulders. “Well, didn’t you tell me there was horsepower in the engine? It probably recognizes ‘Whoa.’ ”

  They laughed together. When the mirth died away, they sat looking across the seat at each other. Graham felt a pressure build in his chest. He would have no difficulty looking into her face for the rest of his life. How he hated the disagreement that had kept them apart this past week.

  “Trina, I want—,” he said.

  “I’ll never—,” she said at the same time.

  He waved his hand. “Go ahead.”

  She sighed. “I’ll never learn to drive at this rate.”

  Graham grinned, giving the ribbon on her cap a gentle tug. “But the longer it takes, the longer we get to be out here together. That’s a good thing, right?”

  Her shy smile made him want to lean across the seat and kiss her lips. But if someone saw them, the consequences would be severe. He threw his car door open and stepped out of the vehicle. They were parked in the middle of the road, but he didn’t expect traffic. He’d deliberately chosen a seldom-used dirt road for her practice. “Come out here.”

  With a puzzled look, Trina obeyed, following him to the front of the car.

  “Sit on the hood.” he directed. As soon as she was settled, he knelt in front of her and held up the palms of his hands. “Okay, now let’s pretend my hands are the clutch and the gas pedal.”

  Trina giggled, crossing her ankles and pressing her heels to the painted black bumper.

  He clapped his hands twice then angled his palms outward again. “C’mon. Feet right here.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide. “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. You said you were having trouble getting your feet to work together, so we’ll just practice. Put your feet against my hands.” With another self-conscious giggle, she lifted her feet and placed them gingerly against his palms. He curled his fingers around the soles of her tennis shoes. “Okay, up on the clutch”—he tilted her left foot back—“and down on the gas.” At the same time, he pulled her right toes forward. “See how it feels?” He repeated the motions several times.

  Trina scowled with concentration, one fist in the air as if holding onto a steering wheel, the other gripping an imaginary gearshift. Graham swallowed his chuckle. If she only knew how cute she looked. He let her practice until the discomfort of the hard ground biting into his knees made him grimace.

  “I gotta get up.” He pushed to his feet, brushed off his trousers, then rubbed his knees, bent forward like an old man.

  Her fingers grazed his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  He tipped his chin to give her a smile. “It’s okay. You’re worth it.”

  Pink flooded her cheeks, and she hopped from the hood. She twisted her apron around her hands. “Do you trust me to try it now with the car?”

  “That’s why we’re out here.” But suddenly teaching her to drive was secondary. Just being with her out on the open landscape with the wind whispering through the cornfields and the Kansas sun warming their heads was a pleasure beyond compare. He stifled a groan. Would he be able to make Trina his in every sense of the word?

  She bustled around the hood and climbed back into the driver’s seat. Graham followed more slowly, and when she reached for the ignition, he caught her hand. She sent him a look that was half puzzled, half scared.

  “Trina, this week was the longest of my life. Know why?”

  The breeze through the open window caught her ribbons, making them twirl beneath her chin. She licked her lips, shaking her head slightly.

  “Because I didn’t see you.”

  “You could have if you’d taken me to the singing like we’d planned.”

  He cringed at the slight accusation in her tone. He regretted not going after her, yet the hurt had still been too deep. Meeting her gaze, he hoped his eyes reflected an apology. “I don’t want to go another week like that.” He hesitated then braved a question: “Do you?”

  A smile trembled on her lips. “I missed you, too, Graham.” She swallowed. “I really don’t want to displease you.”

  Her innocent expression, the sweet words, gave Graham the courage to slip his fingers between hers, linking their hands. “I know you don’t.”

  She removed her hand from his grasp, curling it over the gearshift. “And I appreciate your teaching me to drive, even though we had a falling-out.”

  “It’s easy to forgive you, Trina.”

  She shot him a quick look, her brows low, but she didn’t say anything.

  Graham went on. “And I’m willing to wait while you get your animal-care whim worked out of your system.” He released a chuckle and said teasingly, “Tony told me you’re doing a lot of scrubbing. I figure it won’t take you too long to get tired of that.”

  The answering smile he expected didn’t come. A weight pressed on his chest. “What’s wrong?”

  “Graham, I’ve tried to tell you. This isn’t a whim.” She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a slow breath. When she faced him again, the seriousness in her expression made him hold his breath. “Do you really love me?”

  He leaned toward her. “You know I do.”

  “Then can I trust you to keep a secret?”

  Graham glanced out the window, scanning the empty landscape. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and met her gaze. “Yes.”

  She looked hard into his face, seemingly deciding whether or not she truly could trust him. He resisted fidgeting, frustration building. Finally, she gave a little nod, as if giving herself a private message, and then she spoke. “Learning to drive is just the first step in becoming a real animal doctor. I’ve been using Beth McCauley’s computer, and I figured out how I can get the equivalent of a high school diploma. After that, I plan to enroll in online classes. It will probably take me several years, and I might even have to leave Sommerfeld for a little while, but eventually I’ll be a real veterinarian.”

  “College.” Graham tried to hold his temper, but he knew the word barked out. “You’re really going to do it.” He had hoped the long week of distance between them had awakened her to what really mattered—namely, becoming a wife. His wife.

  She nodded. “That’s what I’m working toward. Maybe it won’t happen, but I have to try. This. . .this tug on my heart is too strong to ignore. I have to try.”

  Her pleading expression tore at him. He faced forward, away from the silent entreaty for understanding. “College, Trina, is against the fellowship.” He didn’t say it was against what he wanted. She already knew that.

  She ducked her head. “I know. And it’s hard to think of going against the rules of the fellowship, but—” Her head came up, her hand grasping his arm. “Why would God give me these desires if I wasn’t meant to follow through with them? That would be cruel! Don’t you see?”

  Graham carefully removed her hand from his arm. “All I see is you are foolishly chasing a dream that will lead to nothing but heartache for—” He started to say “me.” Real
izing how selfish it would sound, he amended, “Your parents. Have they approved this?”

  Her quivering chin gave the answer. Suddenly, he wondered about something else. “Do they know I’m teaching you to drive?”

  She pulled in her lower lip and slowly shook her head.

  “Then you’re sneaking around behind their backs. That’s a sin, Trina!”

  “I don’t want to sneak, but if I tell them now, they’ll say no. They need time to think about it. Once they see how much it means to me, they’ll come around.”

  Graham considered her statement. Did she think he, too, would come around? He’d just told her he was willing to wait for her, but now, looking down the road to years of college classes and her using the earned degree, he feared he may have told a lie.

  Slamming out of the car, he stomped around the hood and yanked open the driver’s door. “Scoot over.”

  She blinked at him, her mouth open in surprise.

  “I’m driving you back to town,” he said, his voice grim. “I won’t help you deceive your parents.”

  Tears trembled on Trina’s lashes, but she worked her way over the gearshift to the opposite side of the seat. Graham sat behind the steering wheel and gave the ignition a vicious twist that brought the engine to life. He jammed the car into first gear, revving the engine. Not until he had shifted into third and they were traveling at fifty-five miles per hour with a cloud of dust whirling behind them did Trina speak.

  “Graham?”

  He grunted, his eyes aimed ahead.

  “Even if you won’t teach me to drive, you–you’ll keep my secret, won’t you?”

  His jaw clenched, the back teeth clamping down so hard it hurt. But he gave a brusque nod.

  He heard her sigh. “Thank you, Graham.”

  He wouldn’t need to tell. There were no secrets in Sommerfeld. It wouldn’t be long. Her folks would get wind of her plans, and they’d bring an end to this nonsense. Then maybe she’d listen to reason and accept his marriage proposal.