by Amy Clipston
“Willkumm heemet, baby Ruthie,” Lydia whispered. “Ich liebe dich.”
Ruthie twitched and then opened her eyes. “Lydia,” she whispered.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Lydia said softly. “You rest, ya?”
Ruthie nodded.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll check on you later.” Lydia kissed the tips of Ruthie’s fingers and placed another kiss on her forehead. She then quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
As she descended the stairs, a group of murmuring voices echoed throughout the lower floor. Reaching the bottom step, she was nearly knocked over as Amanda suddenly appeared and wrapped her arms around her.
“What a miracle!” Amanda said, her face glowing with joy. “Your family is back together!”
“I know,” Lydia said with a smile. “I’m so very thankful. Our family is so blessed.”
“I’m so froh for you,” Nancy said, pulling Lydia into another hug.
Lydia looked around the family room, and tears filled her eyes at the crowd of family members and friends from her district. In the center of the room was Bishop Abner Chupp, an older gentleman whose gray beard seemed to personify his years of work in the community and his wisdom as the head of the church. He was also Barbie Chupp’s great-uncle.
He cleared his throat, and the voices around him softened and ceased. “Let’s have a prayer,” he said.
Everyone bowed their heads. Lydia wiped the tears that trickled from her eyes as the bishop thanked God for the healing hands he’d divinely laid upon Ruthie. Then he blessed the feast awaiting them in the kitchen.
Once the prayer was concluded, Amanda bumped Lydia’s arm with her elbow. “Let’s eat,” she whispered before taking Lydia’s hand and tugging her toward the kitchen.
Lydia, Amanda, and Nancy moved outside after filling their plates and sat under a cluster of oak trees. Lydia lowered her plate onto the ground and a warm breeze blew back the ribbons of her prayer covering.
“It’s a schee evening, ya?” Amanda asked.
Lydia lifted a fork full of chow-chow. “It is.”
Nancy popped a potato chip into her mouth. “Have you heard what the follow-up will be for Ruthie?”
Lydia shook her head. “I haven’t heard it officially. But when I talked to my mamm a few days ago, she said Ruthie would have follow-up appointments after she came home. I just hope the appointments will be local so she and my mamm can stay home. It was rough without them here.”
Nancy touched Lydia’s arm. “Maybe now you can join us for youth gatherings.”
“Ya!” Amanda’s face brightened. “You missed some fun Sunday night.” She laughed, and Nancy joined in.
“What do you mean?” Lydia looked back and forth between her cousins. “What did I miss?”
Nancy shook her head. “We had a gathering at Lizzie Anne’s house again, and Mahlon sort of got caught.”
“What?” Lydia gasped. “What do you mean?”
“He was gathering up his friends to go off on their own, and his father showed up,” Amanda said while forking some chicken salad into her mouth. “There was alcohol in his buggy. The bishop is going to discuss punishment with the church leaders this week.”
Lydia frowned. “Oh.”
“It’s not going to just involve Mahlon. I think the bishop’s grandson told him there have been more youths drinking with him.” Nancy popped more chips into her mouth and then rubbed her hands together. “My dat told me the bishop also wants a list of whoever has been drinking with Mahlon.”
Lydia’s suddenly lost her appetite. “Is that so?”
“Ya, that’s what my dat said. One of the deacons told him when they met at the farm supply store yesterday.” Nancy shook her head. “He said if he hears I was involved at all that he’ll take me out to the barn and whip me. Does he really think I would do something like that?”
Amanda guffawed. “You would never do anything like that. Why would he even think that?”
Worry mixed with guilt surged through Lydia while she pushed a blob of potato salad around on her plate. What if Mahlon had given up her name? Not only would she be punished severely, but her reputation would be damaged. Her family would be shamed for years to come.
Lydia swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Have you heard any of the names Mahlon gave?”
Amanda waved off the question while chewing a bite of her turkey sandwich. “You know. Just the same group as always.” She rattled off the names of Mahlon’s followers.
Nancy chimed in, adding a few more, and Amanda concurred with a nod.
“Anyone else?” Lydia asked.
Amanda and Nancy shook their heads in unison.
“Why?” Amanda asked, her eyes full of curiosity. “Is there someone who was left off the list?”
Lydia paused and then shrugged. “I was just wondering who might be absent from the next youth gathering.”
“Will you be there?” Nancy asked, her face hopeful. “I think my mamm is going to let me host it.”
“That would be wunderbaar!” Amanda said. “I love your huge pasture. We have so much fun there.”
Her cousins prattled on about youth gatherings, and Lydia’s shoulders tensed. She didn’t know what upset her more—that Mahlon was giving up names of his entourage or that her cousins talked as if Lydia wouldn’t attend the next gathering.
“Lydia?” Amanda asked. “Are you okay?”
“Ya,” Lydia said, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.” But she was far from being fine. Suddenly the joy she’d felt earlier evaporated into the spring air.
Later that evening, Lydia placed a washed dish on the towel beside her and glanced at her mother, who was leaning against the wall while yawning.
“Go to bed,” Lydia said. “I’ll finish cleaning up.”
“Are you certain?” Mamm asked between more yawning.
“You look as if you’ve pulled a buggy full of people from town back to our house,” Lydia said. “Please go to bed. I promise I’ll finish up the kitchen and then make certain all of the lamps are snuffed out.”
With a smile, Mamm stepped over to Lydia and pulled her into a hug. “It’s so gut to be heemet.” She kissed her cheek.
“Now, go to bed before I get Dat in here to send you himself,” Lydia said, holding her tight before letting go.
Mamm laughed and then headed for the door. “Gut nacht.”
Lydia hummed to herself while she finished up the dishes and then wiped down the table. She was pushing the broom across the floor when the door opened and slammed shut. She glanced over as her father shucked his work coat and tossed it onto the peg by the door.
“It’s cooling off out there,” he said, rubbing his arms as he crossed the kitchen. “It’s not summer yet.”
Lydia grabbed the dustpan from the corner. “Yes, but warmer weather will be here soon,” she said.
He fetched a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. “The gathering was nice tonight, ya?”
“Ya,” she said. “The food was appeditlich.”
He finished the water and then leaned against the counter. “It’s a relief to have them home. But we’re not out of the woods yet with Ruthie.”
Lydia swept up the dirt and then held up the dustpan while studying her father. “What do you mean?”
He set the glass on the counter and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “She still has to go to monthly appointments and may need more treatments. This was only the first round. The doctors will follow her for a few years to be certain she’s cancer free.”
“Oh.” She dumped the dirt into the trash can.
“I wanted to ask you about something,” he said. “Let’s talk for a minute.”
Dread filled Lydia as she met his serious gaze.
“I was talking with your onkel Robert,” Dat began. “And he mentioned that there has been some inappropriate behavior at the youth gatherings.” He tilted his head in question. “Did you know anything about this
?”
Lydia took a deep breath as alarm shot through her, causing the hair on her arms to stand up. Hoping her expression didn’t give away her anxiety, she nodded.
“What did you know about it?” he asked.
“Mahlon and some friends were known to go off on their own,” she said.
“What were they doing?”
“As far as I know, they were drinking,” she said.
Dat rubbed his beard while studying her. “Were you involved in this in any way?”
“No,” she said, her voice sounding small and foreign to her.
He stood up straight. “Gut. If you had been, you would suffer severe consequences.” His expression softened. “I knew in my heart I could trust you, but Robert said he asked Nancy about it. I thought I should ask you as well. You need to tell the adults when inappropriate behavior is going on. We want to avert tragedy and keep our kinner safe. Bad things happen when kinner operate machinery or try to drive when drunk.”
“Of course,” Lydia said, her voice still meek. “I understand, Dat.”
“You should head to bed. It’s getting late.” He started toward the door. “Gut nacht.”
Lydia breathed a deep sigh of relief as she put the broom back in the corner. Moving to the sink, she stared out the window at the dark pasture as guilt weighed her down like a one-ton anvil on her shoulders.
Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer to God:
Lord, forgive me for my sins. I know that lying is a sin, but the consequences of the truth terrified me more than the consequences of lying. I promise from this day forward to be truthful, but I’m afraid of the repercussions if my parents find out what I did. Please forgive me, Lord. I’ll do better. I promise.
Snuffing the light, she headed toward the stairs and up to bed.
16
On Friday, Lydia rushed past Tristan’s house, hoping to get to the other side of his family’s driveway before he spotted her.
“Lydia,” a voice said.
Startled, she flinched and turned, finding him leaning against the back end of his car. “Tristan,” she said. “I didn’t see you there.”
“How could you see me?” he asked sarcastically. “You were studying the sidewalk and walking as if you were trying to outrun a fire.”
She hoisted her heavy tote bag farther up on her shoulder while considering how accurate his words were. She didn’t want to fuel any more possible rumors about her and Tristan, however. She already had to defend their friendship to her aunts, Barbie, and Joshua. Although she missed Tristan, it seemed to be in her best interest to not talk to him.
He stepped toward her and lifted his arms in question. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you.” There I go, lying and sinning again. She frowned. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy?” He gave a bark of laughter. “Let me guess. You’ve been washing your hair?”
“Excuse me?” She shook her head with confusion. “What does that mean?”
The corner of Tristan’s mouth tilted upward. “Sorry. It’s an expression that non-Amish girls use often as an excuse. Mostly, they tell boys that when they don’t want to see them or talk to them.”
“Oh.” Lydia hugged her arms to her chest. “I’ve been busy with my family. My mother and sister came home on Tuesday.”
Tristan’s eyes lit up and her heart swelled with renewed friendship. She’d wanted to tell him the news since she found out they were going to come home. Why couldn’t she enjoy their innocent friendship without being criticized?
“That’s wonderful, Lydia.” He reached for her and then pulled his arm back. “I’m really happy to hear it. What a blessing for you.”
“Ya,” she said. “We’re so happy to have our family back together.”
“God is so good,” he said.
“He certainly is,” she agreed. “That’s very true.”
Tristan’s expression darkened slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming home?”
She shrugged. “I just told you. I’ve been busy and I hadn’t seen you, and I —”
“I don’t believe you.” His expression challenged her.
“What do you mean?” Lydia asked. “You don’t believe what?”
“That you’ve been too busy.” He gestured toward the garage. “I’ve been out here working on my car nearly every day for over a week. You’ve been deliberately rushing past my house so you didn’t have to talk to me. I planned to stay out here today and wait for you so I could stop you. That’s why I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes watching for you.”
She studied his sad face, and she knew she had to stop lying to him. Perhaps if she told him the truth, he would understand. “You’re right.”
He raised his eyebrows with surprise. “I am?”
“Ya,” she said. “I’ve been avoiding you because I have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our friendship is frowned upon in my community. I had to avoid you to stop rumors from spreading and ruining my reputation and my chances of being the full-time teacher next year.”
Tristan’s expression transformed from shock to disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He gestured between them. “Our friendship would ruin your reputation? Why? Because we were alone for ten minutes in your schoolhouse?”
“Yes,” she said, dropping her bag to the ground to stop the pain of the weight from shooting through her shoulder. “That’s part of it.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Deborah, Tristan’s Amish neighbor, was standing on her porch. Thankfully, there wasn’t any sign of her. “Friendship between an Amish girl and a non-Amish boy is forbidden because it is considered inappropriate.”
“How can a friendship between neighbors be inappropriate?”
“Those are the rules.” She reached for her bag. “I really have to get home. Please tell your family—”
“No,” he said, glowering. “I can’t accept that. How can the Amish call themselves Christians if they don’t allow friendships outside of their tight-knit group? That seems elitist to me. I thought the Amish were supposed to be humble and God-fearing.”
“We aren’t elitist. We’re humble, and we’re all trying to do the right thing in God’s eyes.” Lydia wished he didn’t look so hurt, because it was breaking her heart. “We don’t profess to be perfect Christians or perfect in any way. We’re all trying to live by God’s words and follow his commands, and we know our actions have repercussions. If I don’t follow the rules of my community, my family will be frowned upon.”
“The rules of your community?” Tristan looked confused. “You mean like wearing the right clothes and being obedient?”
“It’s more than that. It’s a way of life that is engrained in us from birth. This is our culture. It’s the way we choose to live.” She shook her head, knowing the conversation was hopeless and was not going to get any better. “You don’t understand.” She hefted the bag onto her shoulder, and the pain began anew in her shoulder. She needed to clean out her bag before she wound up with serious shoulder and back problems.
“No, apparently I don’t understand.” He folded his arms across his chest in defiance. “You’re a teacher’s assistant. Educate me.”
Lydia frowned. “I don’t like your tone. I’m not attacking you, so why are you attacking me?”
He gestured widely. “Jesus told us to love one another. He accepted all people, even thieves and paupers. Why can’t I be friends with you?”
She paused and hoped she’d choose the right words. “Amish girls are supposed to be chaste and pure, and we’re not supposed to mingle with any boys alone. I was wrong to give you a tour of the schoolhouse. If the school board finds out I did that, I might lose my job.”
“I think that’s a little extreme,” he said, “but all right. So what’s wrong with standing here in my driveway and talking? We’re not alone in a closed room, and we’re only talking.”
“The perception could be
…” She paused, struggling for words.
“Lydia, that’s just plain dumb. You can’t do something because of what people might think.” He shook his head.
She threw up her hands. “This is hopeless. You’re not listening to me. There’s a reason my community has these rules, and I have to follow them. That’s just how it is.”
“No, you’re not listening to me. I never had any bad intentions toward you. I told you I have a girlfriend, and I’m loyal to her. Besides, doing something inappropriate with you never even entered my mind.” Tristan’s frown deepened. “I thought you were my friend. In fact, I considered you a good friend, and Michaela did too. She’s been asking about you nearly every day.”
Lydia sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” he said with an emphatic nod. “Me too.”
They stared at each other, and the tension in the air around them intensified.
Lydia needed to get home before she was seen with him. If the word got back to her parents, she would definitely be in trouble. She started to back away. “I have to go.”
“Sure,” Tristan said. “Whatever.” With a wave of his hand, he turned around and started up the driveway.
As she hurried toward her house, she held back threatening tears. It didn’t seem fair that Lydia had to walk away from a good friend like Tristan. Why couldn’t her community accept that she and Tristan shared a perfectly pure and innocent friendship? As she moved toward her driveway, she couldn’t stop the heartache that gripped her.
“I’m glad you can walk with us,” Irma said, skipping alongside Lydia on Monday afternoon. “It’s fun when you walk us home from school.”
Lydia smiled. “I’m glad I can too. Barbie said I should go and she’d clean up today. She said she knew we’d want to get home so we could help Mamm with Ruthie and make supper.”
Titus pointed toward the end of the road. “I see Michaela in the driveway. I wonder if she lost her dog. She looks like she’s looking for something.”
Lydia’s stomach tightened. Her disagreement with Tristan had echoed through her mind all weekend, and she dreaded facing him.