Return to Paradise

by Cameron, Barbara;

  “Surely he’ll retire soon and let you take over the farm. Your mamm told me that the doctor told him he needs to slow down, that he’s worried about his health.”

  “He’s too stubborn to retire. If he did that, he couldn’t control my bruders and me.”

  “Be patient,” she said softly. She hated seeing him unhappy.

  They looked up as thunder rumbled. Reluctantly, she packed up the picnic things, and they gathered up the quilt and ran for the buggy as fat raindrops began pelting them.

  “Guess it’s time to head home,” he said, sounding as if that was the last place he wanted to be.

  She reached for his hand and held it as he took the long way home.

  ***

  Lavina got into Officer Kate’s car. It surprised her to see the woman dressed in a sweater and jeans and driving a vehicle other than her police car.

  “I’m so glad you could come today,” Kate told her.

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  A few minutes later she was surprised again when Kate pulled up in front of a simple three-story house on the outskirts of town. From the outside it didn’t look occupied; the houses on each side of it didn’t look like anyone lived there, either.

  Once Kate used a code on the front door, though, it was an entirely different story. There were a half-dozen women sitting in the spacious living room and more kinner than Lavina could count. One woman sat in a rocking chair feeding a baby a bottle.

  Kate had explained that the shelter wouldn’t be marked with a sign because its location was kept secret for the safety of the women and children who stayed there.

  A woman with a round face and a big smile hurried toward them wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Kate, good to see you! So who’s this?”

  Kate introduced Lavina, and the woman pumped her hand. “Glad to meet you. So happy you could come help the women with the quilting class.”

  “I’m happy to.”

  “I just put some coffee on up in the room, Kate. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks, Pearl.”

  Lavina followed Kate up the stairs and down a hallway. She heard the whir of sewing machines and the chatter of women before they walked into a room that had been converted into a sewing room. It reminded Lavina of the room her dat had fixed up for her mudder and schweschders at home. There were several tables with sewing machines of various ages, another two tables with projects laid out on them and shelves and shelves of fabric and colorful yarns.

  The women glanced up as they walked in. One of them looked startled, jumping up and dropping the fabric clutched in her hands.

  “It’s okay, Carrie,” Kate said in a low-pitched, soothing voice. “It’s just me.”

  The woman frowned. “I see that.” She sat and didn’t look at Kate again.

  “Hello, good to see all of you again,” Kate greeted the women. “Lavina here accepted my invitation to join us this week. She’s a master quilter.”

  “Well, I don’t know that I’d say that,” Lavina said, embarrassed, gazing around at the dozen or so women gathered in the room. She’d been taught to avoid hochmut—pride—practically since birth.

  “If someone’s making her living from what she does, I’d say she’s a master at it,” Kate responded equably.

  “Isn’t every Amish woman a quilter?” someone asked, sounding skeptical.

  “It’s true most Amish women quilt, Carrie,” Kate said. “But not all of them have the skill Lavina has. She and her sisters supply two quilt shops in town with their work.”

  Kate turned to a nearby shelf, plucked a box from it and set it on the table in front of her. “This is the week’s quilt block.”

  She handed several to Lavina to pass out and began handing out others to women near her.

  “Each woman makes a quilt to donate to the community,” she explained to Lavina. “Then she gets to make one for herself and her family.”

  She liked that idea. Community—their own and the Englisch one outside it—was important to the Amish. Each year Lavina, her schweschders, and other Amish women made quilts to donate to the auction that raised money for Haiti. The Amish community had been doing it for more than twenty years, well before the last devastating earthquake that had caught the attention of the world.

  Kate gave a brief lesson on how to construct the block, and then she and Lavina walked around the room offering help when it was requested.

  Lavina paused beside the woman Kate had called Carrie. She was the one who’d been a little sarcastic about how she thought every Amish woman quilted. Carrie was struggling to thread the sewing machine. Looking disgusted, she slumped in her chair.

  “Would you like some help?”

  “You know how to thread an electric sewing machine? I thought you people didn’t use electricity.”

  “We don’t. But it looks like it threads in much the same way as my treadle machine at home.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Lavina didn’t take offense at the way she talked. Carrie seemed . . . unhappy to her. Sometimes unhappy people were unfriendly.

  On the ride here today Kate had warned Lavina that the women at the shelter had been through rough times. They’d been forced to leave their homes because of violence—sometimes in the middle of the night with only the clothes on their back. Some of them had children, and all of them hid here at the shelter where their husbands and boyfriends couldn’t find them. None of them had much money, and even worse, they had no self-esteem after months and even years of abusive behavior from those men.

  Although Carrie looked about her age, she acted older, harder. She wore jeans that were worn and tight and a faded t-shirt. There was a colorful bruise under one eye.

  Carrie stood and gestured at the chair she’d been sitting in. “Be my guest.”

  Lavina sat, studied the machine for a moment and then she guided the thread through the loops on the top and side of the machine and finally the needle. “There. See if it works now.” She stood so Carrie could resume her seat.

  Unsure whether she should stay and offer help or move on, Lavina studied the quilt block. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t mind working on something someone’s ordered. But it’s nice to work on one I want when I can.”

  She met Carrie’s gaze. “Have you thought about what kind of quilt you’d like to make for yourself yet?”

  Carrie jerked her shoulder. “Not really. I’m more concerned with what I’m going to wear for a job interview when I get one. When I went back with Kate to get my clothes my boyfriend had torn up my clothes, the bas—” she stopped. “The jerk,” she corrected with a sidelong glance at Lavina.

  “I wonder—” Lavina paused and bit her lip. She had to ask Kate if she could offer to help her sew something to wear to an interview.

  “What?”

  “Maybe Kate knows where you can get something—”

  “I’m tired of taking charity.” Her lips pressed together, Carrie bent over the quilt block.

  Lavina stared at her stiff posture, unsure what to do. She looked around and saw Kate on the other side of the room, bent over talking to a woman sewing on a machine. “Let me know if you want help on the block.”

  She moved on and found another woman her mother’s age who glanced up and smiled at her. “Don’t pay Carrie no mind. She’s only been here two weeks. It’s hard making the split, no matter how bad your man treated you, coming here with nothing and starting over.” She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Edna.”

  Lavina shook her hand. “Hi, Edna.”

  “Don’t suppose you have this kind of problem in your community.”

  “I’m sorry to say we do.”

  “Really?”

  “People are people no matter where they live or what religion they practice, don’t you think?”

  She thought of David’s mudder. She hoped that all Amos did these days was yell . . . not that yelling wasn’t bad enough.

  “Wo
men turn to the bishop for help in my community. He talks to the husband and tries to work things out.”

  “I kept trying to hold on,” Edna said, pulling some straight pins from a pincushion shaped like a plump tomato. “Some people think holdin’ on is a sign of strength, but there comes a point to where it takes more strength to just let go!”

  She pinned a block and then started sewing it up. “My man wouldn’t talk to our minister and said counseling was for dummies. It was bad enough that he hit me, but when he hit my little boy I knew we had to leave.” She glanced around the room. “We came here.”

  She finished sewing a seam, lifted the foot on the sewing machine, and pulled out the quilt block. After she clipped the thread she held the block up and examined it critically. “What do you think?” She handed it to Lavina.

  “Good job,” she said. “Nice straight seams.”

  Edna took it back and pinned another piece. “This is fun. How long you been quilting?”

  “My mother gave me a piece of fabric and a needle and thread when I was five,” Lavina remembered. “I’ve been sewing ever since.”

  Lavina moved on when Edna went back to work. When she saw that Kate sat at a table doing some handwork on a quilt, she approached her and quietly told her about Carrie’s dilemma.

  “Pearl can help her with that,” Kate said cheerfully. “She’s started a clothes closet for the women for job interviews and such things. She put out a call to her female friends and there are some nice suits and dresses. I’ll tell Carrie before we leave today.”

  The time flew by. It felt like they’d only been there a half hour, but before she knew it Kate began putting supplies back on the shelves. The women tucked their work in project boxes and stored them on shelves, saying goodbye as they left the room. Lavina checked the clock on the wall and saw that two hours had passed.

  “I don’t need you to fix my life!” she heard Carrie shout.

  Lavina spun around and saw Kate frowning as Carrie stomped out of the room.

  Kate sighed. “That went well.” She carried the box of quilt blocks to the shelves and stored it, then turned to Lavina. “Ready to go?”

  They walked outside and got into Kate’s car. Lavina waited until they were out onto the road headed home.

  “I’m sorry Carrie yelled at you,” she said. “Should I have not told you what she said?”

  Kate glanced at her briefly then focused on the road. “I get yelled at all the time. I’m a cop, remember? We’re not real popular.” She made a turn. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a difficult time for Carrie and the other women.”

  They chatted about the class and soon Kate pulled into the drive of Lavina’s house.

  “So,” she said, turning and meeting Lavina’s gaze. “Are you going to join us again next week?”

  “I don’t know how much help I was.”

  “You helped a lot. Don’t let Carrie scare you off. We never know how much we can help just by showing up ready to try.”

  “Okay,” Lavina said. “I’ll be happy to.”

  “Great.” Kate grinned. “See you next week.”

  4

  Tell us all about the quilt class,” Mary Elizabeth said the minute the three of them gathered in the sewing room the next day. “How was it? Did you enjoy it?”

  Lavina thought about it as she threaded a needle. “I did. The shelter is a big old house just outside town. You can’t tell it’s a shelter from the outside because they have to keep it secret that it’s where these women and children live to keep them safe.”

  “That’s sad,” Rose Anna said, her forehead puckering as she thought about it. “I can’t imagine having to be afraid of my boyfriend or my husband when I have one.”

  “Or having to worry about having a place to live or clothes and food for myself and my kinner,” Lavina said.

  “Kate said sometimes the women have to leave their home with only the clothes on their back. Some of the women looked like they had so little.”

  She remembered the worn jeans and faded shirt Carrie had worn and how she’d wondered what she’d wear to a job interview.

  “But when I walked in the door it looked like a home,” she told them. “A group of women were sitting in the living room talking and a mother was feeding her boppli a bottle. Several kinner were watching television. A big yellow bird was talking about the alphabet and a blue puppet kept asking for cookies. It was called Sesame Street and the kinner were laughing and looking happy.”

  She knotted the thread. “It looked very much like a home, a regular Englisch home. And the sewing room where we taught the class—well, where Kate taught it and I tried to help—was very much like this one.”

  Picking up the quilt she’d been sewing, she smiled. “It made me feel good that the women and the kinner had a home after what Kate said they’d been through.”

  Rose Anna frowned. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “You want to help with the quilting classes?”

  “Well, that wasn’t what I was thinking.” She turned as their mother came into the room and took a seat. “Mamm, I was wondering if we had some things we could donate to the shelter Lavina visited yesterday. You know how places like that always need things.”

  “You mean some quilts?”

  “I was thinking more like that fold-up trundle bed we haven’t used in years.”

  “We could do that,” Linda said, looking thoughtful. “There might be some other things we can donate. Ask the person who runs the shelter what they need, and then we can let people at church know.”

  “Allrecht.”

  There was a knock on the front door. Linda went to see who it was.

  “I guess it makes you thankful for what we have, doesn’t it?” Mary Elizabeth asked. “We have our parents, a warm home and good food, and our church.”

  Lavina nodded. She started to speak but stopped when her mother returned to the room.

  “David’s here to see you.”

  “Danki.” She set the quilt she’d been sewing aside and hurried from the room.

  She found David sitting on the sofa in the living room. He stood when she walked into the room.

  “Could we go for a ride so we can talk?” He looked so serious.

  “Allrecht,” she said. “I’ll get my jacket.” She grabbed up her jacket and bonnet and let her mother know she was leaving the house. When she walked outside with David she was surprised to see the Stoltzfus family buggy.

  “Did you get rid of your truck?” she asked as she climbed into the buggy.

  “Nee. Nellie needed exercising.”

  She studied him as he checked traffic and pulled out onto the road. She wondered if the horse really needed exercise or if he’d taken the buggy because he missed the old family horse.

  They rode for a time without speaking, the only sound the clip-clop of Nellie’s hooves on the road. The air was chilly, but she was warm enough in the buggy.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” he said finally, not looking at her.

  Another long pause followed. He found a place to pull over and turned to look at her. “I wanted to ask your forgiveness. I shouldn’t have left without seeing you first.”

  “Nee, you shouldn’t have,” she said, trying to stay calm. “How could you?”

  Before he could speak, the words poured out of her. “Do you know how I felt? I thought we meant something to each other.”

  “We did.” He stared down at his hands, then looked up and stared at her. “Can you forgive me?”

  “I’ve tried,” she admitted, tearing her gaze from his to stare out the window. “You don’t know how hard I’ve tried. A year, David. You were gone a year, and you couldn’t even write to me. I didn’t know where you were, if you were allrecht, anything.”

  She heard the pain and accusation in her voice and bit her lip. What good did it do to say these things now? But emotions—pain and anger and feelings of rejection—were welling up, boiling over. She didn’t know she felt so s
trongly. She’d been taught to believe in extending forgiveness to those who wronged her all her life, and the one time she’d been given the opportunity to practice what she believed she failed miserably.

  “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t need to look at him to know he meant it. She heard the regret in his voice.

  “Why didn’t you ask me to go with you?” she asked quietly.

  When he didn’t respond she summoned the courage to look at him. She’d never spoken to him like this. But she wanted answers.

  “What could I offer you?” he said finally. “I had practically no money. No property. No job.” He sighed. “No future.”

  She stared at him. “You had yourself. You had your two hands and a strong back to make your future with me by your side.” She paused. “You had your heart that I thought held love for me. What more could I want?”

  Turning, she stared out the window, not seeing the landscape outside. “I would have gone with you.”

  “Like Ruth in the Bible?”

  “Ya.”

  “I didn’t want you to give up your family.”

  Confused, she turned back to him. “What?”

  “They would have shunned you if you’d left the community.”

  “You said you hadn’t decided to become Englisch.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “So you haven’t decided to leave the church?”

  “I hadn’t joined the church so there was nothing to leave. You know that.”

  “What I don’t know is why you asked to talk to me today.”

  She watched him sit there staring ahead. Then he took a deep breath and turned to her. “I’m coming back to do what I can to help Mamm since Daed’s sick. But I’m coming back for more than that, Lavina. I came back for you. Will you give me another chance?”

  ***

  Lavina wasn’t the most talkative person, but he could tell he’d shocked her speechless.

  When silence stretched between them he felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. What had he been thinking? He should have waited, let her get used to seeing him for a while before he asked her to give him another chance.