“Anyone who might’ve salvaged your stuff?”
Her heart glimmered with a touch of hope. “Lori’s baby-sitter lived next door. It’s possible she grabbed a few things and is holding on to them.”
“You should write to her.”
The hint of excitement faded. “I can’t. It’s best if my whereabouts remain a secret.”
“Creditors?”
“Worse. I’d rather not talk about it.”
Better Days lunged forward, taking a swipe at Trevor’s ice cream. The sudden movement made him drop the cone, and Better Days lapped it up.
“And Lori wasn’t even here to see my great sacrifice,” he said.
His humor caught her off guard, making her realize she saw him as less than human, which he wasn’t. Maybe building some semblance of a relationship with him was possible after all.
Twenty-One
Grey rinsed off the last of the flatware, but his mind remained on Lennie and their future. She loved so deeply and had enough resilience to cope with disappointments and grief without turning against him. No one would ever understand what that meant to him, but he was still unsure what his next step should be. He placed the handful of utensils into the dish drainer.
It had been two weeks since they’d talked. Except for the one church Sunday, he’d not even caught a glimpse of her. He still wasn’t sure what he should do about the test results. Grey released the water from the sink and began to dry the dishes.
This decision wasn’t about what he wanted. Lennie trusted him to hear God in the matter, so he kept setting aside his personal feelings while praying.
His son came inside with a small, hand-carved horse in his hand. After telling Grey that Israel was coming, Ivan asked for two things: a cup of cold water and permission to go across the bridge to Allen’s house.
Grey glanced out the window and saw Israel cross the backyard. He’d used the bridge, which might mean Lennie was at her brother’s this afternoon. Since today was the Fourth of July and all of Israel’s family loved watching fireworks, they might be having a midweek gathering. It would be nice to see her, even if they’d be among a large group and would have to keep their distance.
Grey poured Ivan a drink and gave him permission to go to Allen’s. He opened the screen door. “Hello, Israel. Kumm rei. What brings you here?”
Israel walked in. “I have a proposition for you to think on.”
Grey took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with icy water. He passed it to Israel. “Have a seat and tell me about it.”
Israel pulled out a chair and sat. “I haven’t talked to anybody but Ada about this, and I’m not ready for others to know just yet.”
“Now I’m curious.”
Israel grinned. “I asked Ada to marry me, and she said yes.”
“Congratulations. That’s great news.”
Israel grinned while staring at the table. “I didn’t know a man with grown children could feel like this. It’s taken a long time for things between Ada and me to work themselves out. To say we’re really happy about it doesn’t begin to tell the tale.”
“Lennie may be just as excited as you two when she learns of it.”
“I suspect so.” Israel took a drink. “We’ll tell everyone soon enough, but one of Lena’s first questions will be where we’ll live, which is why I’m here.” Israel smeared the condensation on his glass, fidgeting for no apparent reason.
Grey waited.
“I don’t mean for my idea to interfere with your plans or hopes for your and Lena’s future. You’ll be the head of your household, so I’m coming to you with my idea. If you don’t like it, I won’t mention it to Lena. It’s just an offer, one you can turn down, and I won’t take it personal.”
“Okay.”
“You built this house, and maybe you and Lena want to move in here, but I’d like for you to think about moving yourselves and Ivan into my house when the time comes.”
Israel had one of the nicest and prettiest places in all of Dry Lake. “Your place? Why?”
“Lena loves that old home, and I can build furniture anywhere. But Ada can’t run her business here in Dry Lake. We don’t get enough tourist traffic, and she loves operating Ada’s House. So what I propose is a sort of house swap. You get my place, which has several rooms for a growing family, acreage, barns, and Lena’s beloved greenhouse, and I get your place to put up for sale. Eventually that money will go to my other children to divide equally.”
That was a really generous offer. Maybe too generous.
Israel slid his glass one way and then the other. “I’d do just about anything for Lena. I guess you’ve figured that out by now. And it’s hard on a woman to enter another woman’s home and build a life with someone, especially if she’s never been married before.” Israel sighed. “Am I butting in where I oughta stay out?”
“No. I agree with what you’re saying. But how would the rest of your family take it? It’s more their homestead than it is mine.”
“If anyone minds, they’ll get over it within a few days. Lena’s been running that home since her mother passed, and it’s hers. No one will deny that. Ada thinks if you two will be living there, it will make planning the wedding even more special for Lena.”
“Ada knows about Lennie and me?”
“Ya. I had to talk to someone about giving up Lena. I know I’m not supposed to feel that way. Lena’s nearly six years older than her sisters were when they married, but the idea of letting her go isn’t coming easy.”
“I’ll take good care of her.”
“Oh, heavens, I know that. And she’ll do the same for you.” Israel took a long drink. “Just think on my idea and let me know. This plan does have one stipulation.”
“What’s that?”
“The whole family is to gather there at least once a month in cold weather. We’ve always done that, and it’s the only place that has room for all the children, spouses, and grandkids. Allen’s place works in the summertime because we can overflow to the outside.”
“You’re right about Lennie and her home, and I’m sure the idea of moving into this one would give her some trouble.” Grey had built this home, but it held a lot of memories. He really liked the idea of Lena and him getting a fresh start elsewhere, but he’d never entertained the idea because it wasn’t affordable. “It’s quite a gift.”
“I’d appreciate your taking me up on my offer.”
“Lennie would love it.” Grey could imagine the excitement mirrored in her bluish green eyes. They might not be able to fill the rooms with children, but living there would always give her joy. “Of course I accept, Israel. Denki.”
“Gut. Ya, that’s gut.” Israel finished his drink. “We’ll talk to her about it as soon as Ada and I are ready to announce our news. I think Ada’s right. Lena likes to know what’s ahead when she can. It gives her time to get her feet under her.”
A quiet calmness fell over Grey, hushing all the confusion and uncertainty inside him. He knew what he needed to do now. He’d get the test results. Whatever they learned, it would give Lennie and him time to get their feet under them.
Lennie had never failed to find contentment with any situation. It might take her a little while sometimes, but she put her will to work when it came to being happy. He’d seen her do it dozens of times, like when the school board removed her as a teacher even though that was all she’d ever wanted to be. Now, less than three months later, she’d found something else to joyfully fill her days this next school year—helping a homeschooling mom.
“Hey.” Israel stood and set his glass in the sink. “We’re having a spread of cold cuts and fruit at Allen’s tonight. After supper we’re going to load up in a few wagons and go watch fireworks in Shippensburg. I think you should join us.”
Grey wouldn’t go with them on the outing. That was for family members. But he could visit for a while before they left.
And he’d find a private moment to tell Lennie that he intended to find ou
t the test results.
Twenty-Two
The aroma of dinner filled the air, and Sylvia’s stomach growled. She stood in the driveway, waiting to see how many pounds of milk the cows had produced since the buyer’s last visit two days ago.
The Englischer pulled a receipt off his ledger. “I think you’ll like what you see.”
She glanced at the numbers. “Oh I do. And I won’t be the only one.”
Milk production had increased consistently over the last several pickups, and Aaron had gotten top dollar for the hay. Both were very encouraging pieces of news.
“I’ll see you day after tomorrow,” the man said.
“The milk will be here. Bye.” She folded the receipt and headed for the farmhouse. Since Aaron’s apology in the hayloft more than two weeks ago, they’d managed the farm together without too many disagreements, although he didn’t like her letting expectant cows find their own birthing spots. He preferred putting them in a large, clean stall.
She stepped inside the farmhouse but stopped cold when she saw Aaron walking around the table, setting it for dinner.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Dora said, stirring a pot on the stove.
Aaron looked up. “You’re late.”
“Indeed I am.” She laid the receipt on the counter before washing up to her elbows in the mud sink. “So … you’re placing the flatware? What universe have I been transported to?”
“Can’t a man pitch in without you making a big deal out of it?”
She dried her hands and arms. “Do you know how many men it takes to replace a roll of toilet paper?”
He shook his head.
“No one does. It’s never been tried.”
He laughed. “Do you know how many women it takes to make a man sorry he attempted to pitch in?”
She shook her head.
“One.” He pointed at her. His demeanor was light and playful.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Where’s Michael?”
“Fetching the mail.” Dora put the large pot in the center of the table.
Aaron poured a glass of water and handed it to Sylvia. “I wish he wouldn’t wait until suppertime to do that. He opens it on the walk back, and the contents never make for good mealtime conversation.”
Michael walked in, sorting through a handful of mail. He passed Aaron a letter. “This one’s for you.”
Aaron opened the envelope, read the letter, and laid it to the side.
Dora sliced huge chunks of homemade bread and placed one on each plate. She glanced at the envelope. “That looks like another letter from the place where you stayed.”
“The Better Path,” Aaron said. “Did you ever open any of the ones they sent to you?”
“I did once,” his father said. “That was enough.” He held up another envelope, showing it to Dora. It was from the Better Path and addressed to her and Michael.
Dora picked it up.
“If you’re going to read it,” Aaron said, “I’d suggest doing so later.”
Ignoring her son’s advice, Dora tore into it. “It’s an invitation.” She passed it to Michael. “Is that place like Alcoholics Anonymous?”
“I’ve never been to an AA meeting, but it’s probably similar. It’s designed by a Plain Mennonite, and it’s for people in the Plain community.”
Michael shook his head. “It’s sad that Plain people need that kind of facility.”
Aaron’s anger flashed in his eyes. “It’s even sadder when people know they can’t cope well, yet they refuse to get help.”
Embarrassment clouded Michael’s features. “I handle things just fine. And I’m not getting into an argument tonight.”
Sylvia loved the Blanks, but Michael’s anger and Dora’s submissiveness to him when it came to Aaron continued to disappoint her.
Dora poured a ladle of stew over the bread on each plate. “Why would we get an invitation to visit the Better Path since you’re no longer there?”
“I’m supposed to attend the meetings at least twice a month, but I haven’t gone since I came back here four weeks ago. This weekend is a group meeting, where everyone who’s part of the program can have family or friends come. Since you never responded to my letters, I’ve never had anyone attend the group meetings for me.”
Michael tossed the envelope toward the trash bin. “I’m not going this time either.”
The disappointment on Aaron’s face was minimal. No doubt he’d known what his Daed’s reaction would be and had braced himself.
Dora finished pouring the stew and sat down. They bowed their heads for the silent prayer. Michael followed with an “amen.”
Sylvia pulled the cloth napkin into her lap. “When is the meeting, Aaron?”
“This Saturday.”
“Are you going?”
“I need to.”
She turned to Michael. “I can handle a day of milking while you go with Aaron.”
“Let it go, Sylvi,” Aaron said.
She studied him, disappointed in the apathy she heard in his tone and saw reflected in his eyes. If every person who attended that day would have at least one family member or friend there, Aaron should too.
The clinks of flatware against plates resounded in the quiet room. When the meal was over, Aaron excused himself and left the house.
Sylvia turned to Michael. “I think you should go to the Better Path on Saturday.”
“It’s bad enough he’s going. I won’t embarrass myself by stepping into that place.”
There were so many arguments on Aaron’s behalf that she wanted to voice. But it wasn’t her place. Michael was her father’s age, and even though the feelings between Michael and her were often like that of a parent and an adult child, she was just a hired worker. She looked to Dora, silently begging her to speak up.
Dora rubbed her forehead as if it hurt. “Michael.” She spoke softly and waited for him to look at her. “You won’t stop reminding Aaron of his past mistakes. You won’t help him when he tries to make up for previous wrongs. And you won’t attend a meeting that might help him with his future. What exactly are you willing to do for our only son?”
Sylvia longed to grasp Dora’s hand and shout “denki!” Instead she remained still and silent.
Michael’s face reddened. “Why should I do anything for him when he’ll just up and leave again? And when he does, there’ll be no note. No warning. He’ll be here one day and gone the next.”
Now that she knew Aaron better, Sylvia couldn’t imagine him doing such a thing. He’d left home to get straightened out and had returned a hard-working, focused man.
Dora lowered her head. “If he’d asked your permission to go to this place and get help, would you have let him?”
Sylvia waited, but Michael didn’t say anything. “Is this how you feel about me now too?”
He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands. “I’ve thought on your story about you and that married man, and you were wrong to do what you did, but that’s different from what Aaron did. Your incident happened once, and you fled the temptation. Aaron wallowed in his sin and hid it from us for years. It’s not my fault he needed such a place.”
With Michael having that kind of stubborn attitude, Sylvia didn’t understand how Aaron could remain so loyal to his parents. She’d given Elam the best of her heart, and he hadn’t been loyal to her. He hadn’t been loyal to Beckie, either. Yet Aaron had been good to his folks in spite of the way they treated him.
“I’ve been working with Aaron for a month now. He’s not perfect.” She reached across the table and put her hand over Michael’s. “But he deserves someone who believes in him.”
Dora ran her fingertips along the edge of the table, keeping her eyes lowered. “Does he know you began looking for someone you could hire to help him months before he left here?”
Michael shook his head. “He wouldn’t believe me, and if he did, he’d say it was too little too late.”
“It might let him know that we care. W
ould it be so horrible to admit we were wrong too?” Dora asked. “To let him see that we need him as our son, not just as a laborer?”
“I … I can’t.”
Sylvia was suddenly drained of all energy. She knew Michael felt deeply. During the months before Aaron returned home, she’d spent long evenings in the living room with Michael and Dora and had come to understand how much Michael loved his son. He needed Aaron far more than he needed a farmhand, but things she didn’t understand, maybe pride and hurt, kept the two of them at odds. She couldn’t help but wonder if Michael would open his heart before it was too late.
Dora moved to a chair closer to her husband. “If we went, we could go see that appliance store too. You promised we would.”
Michael stood, looking frustrated and unsure of what was taking place. He sighed. “Okay, fine. We’ll go.” He looked at Sylvia. “All three of us. Grey won’t mind stepping in to help on Saturday.”
“But …” Sylvia saw no reason for all of them to attend.
“We’re all going. But no one tells Aaron in case something happens that keeps us from making the trip.”
She wished she could convince Michael to let her skip the outing. She had no problem supporting Aaron at the Better Path, but she didn’t want to witness Michael and Dora walking through the appliance store. What if they liked it and the idea of moving began to grow on them?
Twenty-Three
Cara sat at the treadle sewing machine, making another cloth doll. Lori had gone with Ada and Deborah to deliver special order cakes to two shops. In a few hours customers would fill Ada’s House, but at ten in the morning, it was quiet and peaceful.
Better Days went to the door, wagging his tail.
“Hey there, little pup.” Trevor’s raspy voice flowed through the empty home. He tapped on the door and then walked inside, carrying a brown bag about the size of a tissue box. He saw Cara working near a window in an open area off the foyer.
“He’s not a puppy,” she said. “Had his first birthday in April.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Cara. This dog is quite the puppy. Not an ounce of him is a watchdog, though, unless you count watching people walk right in your front door.”
The Harvest of Grace Page 18