“Why?”
“I thought I’d thank you by taking you out to supper.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
He glanced at her, then back at the road. “Maybe don’t need to. But want to. Would you go out to supper with me, Lavina?”
“I’m not so sure that’s a gut idea.”
The car in front of him stopped and waited to make a left turn. David took his eyes off the road and looked at her. “Schur it is.”
She hesitated and a car honked behind them. The driver up ahead had made his turn and David was slowing things down. He accelerated.
“Well?”
“Maybe just this once,” she said finally. “If we don’t talk about the past.”
“What past?” he asked lightly, although he felt a little pang as he said it.
“I have to stop by the house and let Mamm know.”
“No problem.”
He drove her to her house and waited while she ran inside. She returned and a rush of cool air invaded the cabin. He turned the heater on high.
They discussed where to go. David tried to think of someplace they hadn’t been. There was a new one he’d heard of—a bit pricey but he figured he could do it once.
When he named it, she laughed.
“Mary Elizabeth and I just went there the other day for lunch.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “She didn’t tell you to take me there, did she?”
“Nee, why would she do that?”
“Because I think she’s been matchmaking. She’d like to see us back together.”
“Back together? But that would imply we had a past and we agreed not to talk about it, right?” As if that would erase it, he gave her a smile as he drove.
She gave him a measuring look.
“So do we go there or are you tired of it?”
“No one could be tired of going there again even on the same day. But it’s a little expensive, David. We don’t have to go someplace that nice.”
“I never got to take you anywhere nice,” he said flatly.
The words hung in the silence. Both of them knew he’d never had money because he and his bruders worked on the farm without pay. He’d earned a small amount of spending money by finding occasional part-time work for other farmers. A coffee date had been a big event for them. David had too much hochmut—too much pride to let her help pay for anything.
“We went here the other day as a treat,” she said as he pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later. “I’d promised Mary Elizabeth we’d go if she finished a quilt order early. Of course she got me to pay.”
“She’s gut at getting her way,” he said with a smile so she knew he didn’t mean it critically. He turned off the ignition.
“She’s always been a charmer. We’re not at all alike.”
“I think you’re charming,” he told her quietly.
She glanced at him then away. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
“I know. And I meant it. But you’re charming in a different way than Mary Elizabeth. She uses charm to get her way. You don’t use it at all . . . you’re a pleasure to be around because you’re interested in others, not getting something for yourself.”
He stopped, afraid he’d say too much, make her uncomfortable and not want to be with him. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he got out and hurried to open her door before she could.
“Wait and take a look at the menu before we go in,” she said, pointing to a framed menu near the door. “You might not like what they serve.”
“I’m schur it’ll be fine. It wouldn’t be this busy if it didn’t serve gut food.”
He gestured at the nearly full parking lot with one hand while he held the door open for her and she was forced to step inside. He loved her for being sensitive of his wallet, but he had the money to pay. They deserved a nice night out.
“Dinner prices are higher than they were for lunch,” she murmured. “Why don’t we just get dessert and coffee and go?”
“Why don’t you stop worrying?”
“I made beef stew. Your favorite. You could go home and have that. We could ride around for a little while to make sure the bishop is gone.”
“But then I wouldn’t get to have supper with you.”
He smiled at her and watched the way color rose in her cheeks at the compliment. Had he paid her so few compliments in the past that giving her one now made her blush?
He started to reach for her hand but a woman appeared at the table.
“Good evening, folks. I’m Shirley and I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” their server said as she lit the candle in the center of the table. “Let me tell you what the specials are.”
David pretended to listen but he couldn’t have cared less what they had to eat. He’d never heard of beef bourguignon or coq au vin, but he’d have cheerfully eaten dirt over noodles if it meant he got an hour with Lavina looking so lovely in candlelight.
The server took their drink orders and left them with menus. David was grateful that there were explanations under each entrée that was unfamiliar to him. The beef bourguignon actually sounded a lot like beef stew. He knew he could have Lavina’s beef stew later if he wanted. Coq au vin sounded like drunken chicken. Steak. Hmm. He didn’t have that often at home. Meals were simple and filling, but steak was expensive so it didn’t often appear on the family supper table.
“I’m having the steak. Don’t go ordering a salad to save me money.”
She smiled. “Allrecht. I think I’ll have the pork roast with apple stuffing. Sounds like something I might want to try making at home if I like it. Daed loves pork.”
As he sat there enjoying the meal and the time with Lavina, David realized that the evening that had started out with an unpleasant visit from the bishop had turned into a very pleasant evening indeed for him. He silently thanked God for the unexpected blessing and promised he’d be more polite to the bishop next time he saw him.
Well, he’d do his best anyway . . . when it came to him and the bishop, he couldn’t promise anything.
***
Lavina lay awake for a long time that night after she came home from supper out with David.
Although they hadn’t talked about anything serious—and certainly not about the past—it still was more than just two friends having supper together.
He hadn’t looked at her like she was a friend, but like a woman he wanted to be more than a friend with. She was a practical woman, one who now knew to guard her heart. Candlelight might make the atmosphere romantic but there had been more . . . there was no disguising the way he’d looked at her all evening, even if he was careful to keep things light and friendly.
And he’d taken her hand as they walked to the truck.
The ride home seemed too short. If he’d taken the family buggy there would have been more time to talk, to enjoy the moonlit night.
The truck itself posed a problem. The fact that he had it meant he could so easily ride it back to the life he’d lived in the Englisch world. Sometimes after the tension with his dat he wanted to do that . . .
Mary Elizabeth had looked up from her seat on the sofa with avid curiosity when she’d walked in the door, so Lavina said she was tired and going to bed early. She’d changed quickly into a nightgown, brushed her teeth, and slipped into bed before Mary Elizabeth could ask any questions. In minutes she was tucked under her quilt, the battery-operated lamp on her bedside table turned off.
Footsteps paused at her door and then moved on. Lavina smiled in the dark. Knowing Mary Elizabeth, she was probably dying of curiosity.
Moonlight filtered into the room, sending shifting patterns of light and shadow through the bare tree branches a few feet from her window, as she thought about her evening out.
She felt herself softening toward David and told herself that could be dangerous for her. Kate’s words came back to her—the conversation they’d had about how sometimes the women in the shelter returned to their abusive husbands or boyfrie
nds. How they couldn’t break the cycle.
If she let David back into her life, into her heart, she could be hurt again if he left the community. She had no guarantee that he wouldn’t return to the Englisch world if the relationship between him and his dat didn’t change. David was in such a terrible position: if his dat survived he might tell David he didn’t need him anymore. If he died, David and his bruders would inherit the farm and he’d stay.
She prayed his dat would recover and live for many more years, all the while she knew what consequences that might have for David, the man she knew she still cared for so much. God had a plan for everyone and lying here tossing and turning, worrying about David was wrong. God knew best. Phoebe King, Jenny Bontrager’s grossmudder, always liked to say that worry was arrogant because God knew what he was doing.
So she told herself to think of something pleasant. Supper at such a fancy place had been so wonderful. She wanted to try duplicating the pork roast with apple stuffing one night. It looked simple enough on the plate—the roast had a hole cut in the center and it was packed with stuffing made with bread cubes and onion and chopped apples, and some spices like cinnamon and maybe nutmeg. Maybe she could even look for a recipe on the computer at the library one day or just try improvising with a recipe for roast pork.
She sighed when she remembered the dessert she’d shared with David. She could almost taste the ladyfingers soaked in coffee and the luscious filling. The server had written down the name of the exotic sounding dessert. Tiramisu. Paradise on a plate, she remembered with a smile. She’d look that up on the computer, too. It was unlike the simple Amish desserts she was used to but everyone should try an adventure with food now and then. Maybe David’s mother would enjoy getting a piece of it when she made it. Linda seldom got out of the house except to go with her mann to medical appointments.
Lavina snuggled deeper under her quilt and thanked God for the unexpected pleasure of an evening out. Whether she and David ever became more than friends again, it would be a lovely memory. There had been menus the restaurant patrons could take home, and she’d slipped one into her purse. Tomorrow she’d tuck it into her journal.
A couple at a nearby table appeared to be celebrating a special time—perhaps an anniversary. The man had surprised the woman with a vase of red roses brought to the table, and they shared a bottle of wine. The maitre d’ had poured the wine into fluted glasses, and it had looked bubbly and golden in the candlelight on their table. It made the woman giggle after she drank a glass. Remembering how happy the couple had looked, Lavina smiled and found herself fantasizing how it would be to be married and celebrating being happy together.
She fell asleep and dreamed.
She wore a dress the color of a robin’s egg on her wedding day and felt she must be glowing like a candle as David joined her and they walked to meet the minister. So many of their family members and friends gathered in her home. Mary Elizabeth and Rose Anna and Sam and John were among the newhockers, the attendants.
She’d never felt so loved, so surrounded by wishes for joy and happiness that could be felt radiating from all whom they loved and who loved them.
But just as the minister was about to pronounce them mann and fraa, she saw David begin to fade, to become transparent and then he was gone. She stared wildly around her, crying out his name, wondering where he’d gone.
“David! David! Where are you?”
She woke, sitting up and reaching out for him. But she was alone in her room in her narrow bed. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and lay back against her pillow again.
It had only been a dream, a bad one.
She hadn’t been married after all. But David was still alive, probably sleeping in his bed in his home not far from hers. He’d slipped away from her in the dream, and he’d slipped away from her life for a year.
But he was still here, still wanted her. And the future was unknown, but she’d do her best to just take things one day at a time and trust this path God had laid out for her before she was born. She knew he’d set aside a mann for her. She didn’t know if it was David, but she had to trust His plan and His timing.
Lavina pulled the quilt up around her shoulders and closed her eyes. A Bible verse drifted into her thoughts. I will both lie down in peace, and sleep; For You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety (Psalm 4:8).
Comforted, she slept dreamlessly.
11
I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
Lavina blinked in surprise. She hadn’t seen Carrie slip into a seat at the back in the quilting class. “You know, about how you said sewing skills might help me get a job.”
She smiled. “Well, that’s actually what Kate said.”
“I like bartending, but it’d be nice not to have to be on my feet, you know? I’ve been looking for something different. I mean, you sew sitting down, right?”
This was the most that Carrie had ever said to her. And she wasn’t wearing the sullen expression that she usually wore.
Lavina nodded. “You put in pretty long hours sometimes, whether you’re sewing on a machine or by hand.”
“Amish quilts cost a lot, don’t they? The tourists don’t seem to mind what they pay for them.”
“They’re not cheap,” she agreed. “That’s because they take a lot of time to make. Some of the patterns are complicated.”
“You think someone would buy one from a person who isn’t Amish?”
“I don’t know. I guess you could ask Leah. She owns a shop called Stitches in Time.”
“I know that one.” Carrie glanced toward the front of the room where Kate stood helping one of the class members, then back at Lavina. “Thanks for the ride the other day.”
“You’re welcome.”
“It was good to get away from here for a while, you know?”
Lavina didn’t really know what to say so she nodded. Carrie bent her head to her block and began sewing again.
“Nice to see you again,” Fran, a woman Lavina guessed to be her mother’s age said as Lavina stopped to admire her progress. “Carrie was quite talkative just now. Maybe she’s feeling a little happier these days.”
She paused and looked thoughtful. “I don’t know if I could have made the break with my boyfriend at that age. I didn’t think I could live without my husband when I was thirty-five and he was hurting me. And I had two little ones. I thought they needed their father.” She shook her head. “Then one day I realized I couldn’t let them see him hitting me. It was better for us to come here. Thank God for a place like this.”
Kate announced it was time for the class to end, and Fran began putting her block into her project box. “The time just flies by when I’m sewing.”
“I know. I’m glad you enjoy it. See you next week.”
Pearl, the woman who ran the shelter, met Lavina and Kate when they descended the stairs. “We’re having a little surprise party for Iris, one of the women in the quilting class. Hope you can join us.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to be in court,” Kate said. “Lavina?”
She liked Iris. The woman was quiet, a little shy, but she always smiled when Lavina stopped by her seat and asked if she needed any help. She nodded. “I’d like to stay. Can I help with anything?”
Pearl put her to work setting up in the dining room, and while someone kept Iris busy elsewhere, other women began filtering into the room to help, bringing little gifts they placed on a table, chattering and looking excited.
A short time later Pearl gave the signal for someone to get Iris and the women cried, “Surprise!” when Iris stepped into the room. She promptly burst into tears.
Pearl, a robust woman with graying hair and kind blue eyes, hugged her.
“Make a wish!” someone called as Pearl led her over to a birthday cake with candles on it. Iris closed her eyes and blew them out. Everyone applauded and took their seats as Pearl cut the cake, put slices on plates, and handed them to Lavina to pass out.
“Sit down
, have yourself some,” Pearl invited when everyone had a piece of cake before them.
“I never expected this,” Iris told Pearl.
“We’re family here,” Pearl said. “You just remember that. We’re all here for each other at Sarah’s Place.”
“He said no one else loved me,” Iris said quietly. “He said no one would want me after he put his hands on my face.”
“Well, he was wrong. Dr. Elton fixed your face, and that soon to be ex-husband of yours can’t keep that sweet heart of yours from shining unless you let him.”
Iris opened her presents and thanked everyone profusely. So profusely Lavina wondered if she’d received many presents in her life.
“Thank you for staying,” Pearl told her as Lavina carried plates into the kitchen.
“I enjoyed it. And the cake was good.”
“My mother’s recipe. Sarah’s Place is named after her. My father beat her for years and then one night he killed her in front of us kids. I was eleven.” Her tone was matter-of-fact as she started another pot of coffee.
“That must have been awful for you.”
Pearl nodded. “I like to think she’d be happy that women like her have a place to be safe.” She looked at Lavina. “I’m so glad you’ve come to help Kate with the quilting class. I noticed more women are joining you each week.”
“I don’t know how much I’ve helped, but it’s been fun,” Lavina told her. “Some of the women are doing some very creative work. I think we all need something like that.”
“I agree. I like to knit when I watch television in the evenings. Maybe one day we could offer a knitting class.”
“And you could teach it.”
“If I could find the time.” She sighed. “I stay so busy running the place.”
“I’m going to go see if there are more dirty dishes.”
Lavina went into the dining room and found that the party was still going on. The women were enjoying the last of the cake and coffee while Iris exclaimed over each present she opened.
These women behaved like long-time friends—family, even—Lavina thought. And yet she knew they hadn’t been at the shelter long. The shelter was a temporary home but they’d formed a bond, reaching out to each other from a place of personal pain and were helping each other in the way that women everywhere did. It felt much like her own community, her own church, here today, she realized.
Return to Paradise Page 13