by Amy Clipston
“What do you mean?” Her voice and her hands trembled with worry.
He leaned in close to her, and she could smell his musky scent. “The bishop asked Mahlon for a list of youth who have been drinking with him.”
She cupped her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stop the gasp bubbling up from her throat.
“He told me about you.” His glare sent a shiver up her spine.
Lydia challenged him with her best steely eyed look. “What are you saying?”
Joshua shook his head. “You were never a very good liar.”
“I have no reason to lie,” she said, her quaking voice betraying her attempt to defend herself. Joshua was right — she was a terrible liar, especially when she knew she’d been caught.
“He told me everything,” Joshua said, whispering in her ear. “I know you went out behind the barn with him and his buddies and drank too much. When he took you home, you couldn’t walk straight.”
She stared at him. “He told you that? You don’t believe him, do you, Josh?”
Joshua nodded. “I know it’s the truth, Lydia. Your eyes and your expression confirm it. You can stop trying to talk your way out of it.”
“Lydia!” Her father’s voice bellowed from the door. “Kumm! Dummle!”
Joshua jammed a thumb toward the house. “You’d better go.”
Lydia stood cemented in place, wondering what to say to Joshua. By continuing to deny it, she would only get herself in more trouble for lying. Yet, she needed to know if Mahlon told the bishop. She had to find out if the bishop was planning to visit her parents.
And the bishop wasn’t her only worry. Now that Joshua knew the truth, he saw her in a different light. She was no longer the sweet, innocent girl who lived next door. She had a reputation, and he would never consider courting her or marrying her. She could see her dreams of being his wife and the mother of his children evaporating right before her eyes.
All she’d wanted her whole life was what every Amish girl wanted: to get married and have a family. By making one stupid mistake late one night, she’d lost her chance with the one person she wanted to share that life with. She’d also lost trust and friendship with Joshua. She had nothing left. Her heart twisted with a renewed dread at the thought.
“Lydia,” Joshua said, his expression softening. “Go. Now. Let me help you with your bag.” He reached for it, but she grabbed it before he could help her.
“Lydia Jane!” Her father’s voice was laced with anger. “Are you disobeying me?”
Carrying her bag and the container full of cupcakes, she started toward the house with her heart in her throat and her body shaking with fear. Glancing down at the container, she could see the outline of the sprinkled cupcakes. How ironic that she was bringing happy birthday cupcakes into the house where her father waited to berate her.
She knew she was going to face the worst punishment of her life when she walked through the back door. But what would her punishment entail? Did her father know the truth about the night she was with Mahlon and his friends? Was he going to take her out behind the barn or would he simply ground her? Or could the punishment be worse, such as sending her away to live with relatives in another state to save her reputation? She’d heard of youth who had committed indiscretions and been sent away to mend their ways in a new community. Would her father do that to Lydia and ruin her life in the process?
“Lydia,” Joshua called, jogging up beside her and wrenching her from her upsetting thoughts.
She faced him as they stood a foot from the porch, where her father was glaring down at her.
“Mahlon didn’t give your name,” Joshua whispered. “I told him not to. Actually, I sort of threatened him, and he promised that he didn’t.”
Before she could respond, Joshua trotted across the pasture toward his house. She watched him, wondering why he would defend her if he said he didn’t know her anymore. Suddenly a glimmer of hope swelled deep inside of her as she wondered if his actions meant he could possibly still care for her.
“Lydia Jane,” her father snapped. “Get up here on the porch. Now.”
Lydia pushed any possible happy thoughts away as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, ready to face her father, no matter what the repercussions could be. She’d lost her friendships with Joshua and with Tristan. What would it matter if she were grounded for the rest of the year or if she were sent away? She didn’t have any reason to go to singings if she had no chance of being with the boy she’d loved since childhood and would love the rest of her life.
Climbing the stairs, her feet moved slowly as if she were fighting her way through quicksand with the weight of the world resting on her shoulders.
Dat stood in front of her, his expression full of fury. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lydia Jane?”
Angry tears collected in her eyes. While a million excuses floated through her head, she couldn’t form a coherent response. Instead, she looked toward the pasture, where Joshua was nearing his house.
“Lydia!” Her father bellowed again. “Not only are you ignoring my question, but you’re not even acknowledging my presence. Where does this blatant disrespect and disobedience come from? You were disrespectful the night you demanded to know why you couldn’t go to the singing. And now you’re disrespecting me again.”
Facing him, she squared her shoulders and angled her chin with a sudden surge of confidence. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Is that how you feel? You think you can run around with your English freinden and skip your chores at the house? You have responsibilities. You know that your schweschder is ill, and your mamm has her hands full. It’s your job to come home at night and make supper and complete your chores. I resent your teaching your siblings that it’s okay to do what you wish without consequences.”
She wiped away a frustrated tear as rage pooled within her.
“Are you going to answer me?” he demanded, folding his arms over his chest. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m tired of this,” she said. “I want our normal life back. I want to be a normal sixteen-year-old maedel who works, does her chores, and spends time with her freinden. I don’t want to be accused and scorned when I want to have a life beyond this haus.”
Shaking his head, he glowered. “That is not for us to decide. We have to follow God’s plan, and his plan is for us to care for Ruthie. You can’t run off whenever you please.”
“I don’t want to carry the load for this family anymore,” she blurted out, her voice trembling and pitched higher than usual. “I want to live my life, not a life that is dictated to me. I want to be like Nancy and Amanda and go to youth gatherings and laugh with my freinden. I’m missing out on too much, and it’s not fair!”
“You’re out of line!” His voice shook. “I don’t know where this attitude has come from, but I feel like I don’t know you anymore. What’s happened to you? Who have you become, Lydia? You’re not the maedel your mamm and I raised.”
She gasped. His words stung as much as Joshua’s.
“You would break your mamm’s heart if she heard this disrespect,” he continued.
“Maybe she should know,” Lydia continued. “Maybe she should hear me say that I’m tired of not being appreciated.”
“You’re tired of not being appreciated?” He gave a sarcastic snort. “Do you know how hard I’ve been working? I’ve been taking triple shifts installing floors. Our hospital bills for Ruthie are piling up, and I’m breaking my back trying to pay some of them. But no matter how much I work, it’s never enough money. Do you know how that feels?” He pointed toward the house. “Do you know why I’m home early today? Did you even think to ask?”
She shook her head.
“Your mamm called me because she was worried about Ruthie. She was running a high fever, and Mamm was worried sick.” He motioned toward the house again. “Have you thought about how all this is affecting your mamm? Do you ever th
ink of her?”
“I do,” Lydia said, her resentment mounting at his accusations. “I worry about Mamm all the time. I pray for her and also for Ruthie and the rest of our family. I worry about everything.”
“You do?” he asked. “I thought you only cared about going out with your friends. That’s what you said.”
“That is not what I said!” Lydia insisted, her body trembling. “You’re not listening to me, Dat. You order me around but don’t listen to how I feel.”
“Fine,” he said. “Tell me how you feel, Lydia. I’m listening now.”
“I’m missing out on all the things the youth do,” she began, but the words felt insignificant and weak after his accusations. “The buwe and maed are dating, but I’m always here at home. There’s no reason I can’t get away sometimes and be a normal sixteen-year-old. When I wanted to go to that last gathering, you wouldn’t let me!” She pointed at him, even though she knew it would only anger him more. “You wouldn’t give me a reason.”
“I don’t have to give a reason,” he fired back with fury sparking his brown eyes. “I am your daed, and I am the head of this household. I don’t need a reason for my decisions. It’s not your place to question me. According to the Ordnung, you’re to obey your parents and not question them. Don’t you remember all you’ve been taught? You’re a teacher at the school. You should know the teachings.”
She blanched at his words. “I know the Ordnung.”
“Do you?” he asked. “You act as if you can just do whatever you please and not live within the rules of the Ordnung. Are you above it all? Are you too gut for the Lord’s teachings?”
“No,” she said, her tears flowing with full force now. “I just want to be a normal sixteen-year-old. That’s all I want.”
“We all have things we pray for, but we have to follow the Lord’s plan,” he said. “Our life and our future aren’t for us to decide.”
She shifted her weight and wished her tears would stop flowing. But she was sobbing now and couldn’t stop.
“You don’t deserve to be a part of this family if you hold such resentment about your role in this haus.” He pointed toward the door. “Go! Go to your room. You’re grounded.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, his voice echoing off the porch.
“Don’t even think about going to a youth gathering,” Dat ordered, his face contorted with anger. “You will go to school and the bakery and then come straight home. You’ll have no contact with that English family or your freinden, except at church services. You want to be on your own? Well, you’ll be alone as much as possible. Consider it done.”
Lydia stared at him and wiped more tears.
“Go!” he said. “Stay in your room. I don’t want to see your face.”
Lydia marched into the house, dropping her bag and the cupcakes by the back door. Irma looked up from sweeping the kitchen floor with a shocked expression.
Lydia rushed through the family room past her mother, who was rocking Ruthie in a chair.
“Lydia?” her mother whispered. “Was iss letz?”
Lydia ran up the stairs without responding to the question.
“Lydia?” she heard her mother call. “Come sit with me in the schtupp.”
Lydia stomped into her bedroom, where she dropped on her bed and sobbed. Once she was out of tears, she flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling as the conversations with her father and Joshua swirled through her mind. In a matter of days, she’d managed to destroy almost every relationship she had.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered. “Are Joshua and Dat right? Have I changed? Am I no longer a gut maedel?”
She knew she needed to pray, but she couldn’t form the words. She knew she’d been disrespectful to her father, and she was ashamed—so, so ashamed. How could she possibly take back her horrible, self-centered words?
Lydia knew in her heart that her father was right — it would have broken her mother’s heart if she’d heard what Lydia had said.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Lord, I’m so very sorry. Help me make this right. Give me the words to make my family realize that I do want to be here, and I do love them. Guide me with my friendships with Tristan and with my precious Joshua. Help me find my way back to you and your path, God.”
Closing her eyes, she continued to pray. “Lord, please heal Ruthie and give my parents strength. Please make me a good example for my siblings.”
Lydia rolled to her side and closed her eyes. She hoped she could dream now and wake up to find a new day and not this nightmare in which she was trapped.
18
The following Wednesday, Lydia stood at the stove cooking eggs and fried potatoes. She kept glancing toward the doorway, awaiting her father’s arrival.
“I can’t believe the last day of school is Friday!” Irma said as she finished setting the table. “It’s almost summer. I’m so froh!”
“Me too,” Titus agreed. “It’s about time.” He started toward the door. “I’ll be back.”
“I already fed the animals and got the eggs,” Lydia announced, scraping the potatoes onto a large dish. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
Titus looked shocked. “You did?”
“Ya.” She began cutting up another potato, which was already peeled. “You can go tell Dat that breakfast is almost finished.” She turned to Irma. “Would you please run down to the basement and get a couple of jars of Dat’s favorite preserves?”
“Ya,” Irma said and then headed toward the basement door.
“Why are you doing extra chores?” Titus asked, moving next to Lydia. “Are you trying to get back on Dat’s gut side?”
Although Titus’s observation was correct, Lydia ignored the question. Ever since her heated discussion with her father the previous week, she’d gone out of her way to be pleasant and helpful. Her parents, however, had been reticent in her company. She’d hoped by doing her best and taking on more chores, they would forgive her and their home would become a more relaxed and pleasant place.
Yet, her father seemed to either ignore or not notice all the extra things Lydia had been doing to try to make amends. Twice she’d tried to open a conversation with him about their argument, and he walked away from her, leaving her feeling cold, alone, and ostracized from her own family. After praying about it, she decided not to give up. She would keep going above and beyond with her chores and also continue to pray for reconciliation with her father.
Lydia pointed toward the counter. “Titus, would you please grab a loaf of bread from the pile I made yesterday? Also, please get the butter out and set them both on the table. There’s a basket for the bread over there.”
Shaking his head, Titus grabbed the bread and then fetched the butter from the refrigerator. “You know doing extra chores won’t make it better. You need to apologize and prove to him that you won’t be disrespectful again.” He put the bread into the basket.
Lydia faced him. “I’ve tried to apologize, but he won’t respond.”
“Keep trying,” he said with a shrug. “You know how stressed out he is. Did you hear him that night he cried a few weeks ago?”
Lydia placed the spatula on the counter. “Ya, I did.”
Frowning, Titus shook his head. “I’ve never seen him that upset.”
“I know,” Lydia said softly. “I realized I was wrong to behave like I did, and I just want to make it better.”
Her brother tilted his head while contemplating something. “Do you want me to help you? Maybe I could talk to Dat and tell him you’re really sorry.”
Reaching over, Lydia touched his arm. “Danki. You’re a gut bu, but I have to handle this myself. It’s my mess, and I need to fix it.”
He placed the bread and butter on the table. “Gude mariye, Mamm,” Titus said as their mother appeared in the doorway.
The dark circles under their mother’s eyes indicated she’d had another sleepless night with Ruthie. “Gude mariye,”
she said with a yawn. “Everything smells appeditlich.” She looked at Lydia with surprise. “You’ve been busy.”
Irma appeared from the basement with two jars of preserves. “Gude mariye, Mamm.” She placed the jars on the table and kissed her mother’s cheek.
“Danki,” Mamm said.
“Have a seat, Mamm,” Lydia said. “Everything is almost ready.” She brought the plates of eggs and potatoes and set them down in front of her mother, then went back to the stove. “I thought I’d make Dat’s favorite this morning.”
“She’s trying to get back in Dat’s favor,” Titus mumbled.
“Titus,” Lydia said. “That’s not nice.”
While Irma prattled on about her excitement for their upcoming summer break, Lydia made three more plates of eggs and potatoes. She was placing the last plate on the table as her father entered. “Gude mariye,” Lydia said, trying her best to sound chipper.
Dat mumbled a response and sat at the head of the table.
Lydia sat down in her usual seat next to Irma and bowed her head for the silent meal blessing. When prayers were complete, she lifted her head and reached for the basket of bread in the center of the table. “Would anyone like some bread? It’s freshly baked from yesterday.”
Irma smiled. “I’ll take some.”
Lydia began to cut pieces and distribute them around the table. Her father took a piece and mumbled a thank-you under his breath.
Dat turned to Titus. “Are your chores done outside?”
Titus pointed to Lydia. “She did them already.”
Dat shot Lydia a look of disbelief. “You did Titus’s chores?”
“Ya.” Lydia scooped some potatoes into a spoon. “Ya. I fed the animals and fetched the eggs.”
Her father studied her for a moment while chewing, then turned to Mamm. “Are you prepared for Ruthie’s appointment today?”
“Ya,” she said, lifting her glass of water. “I think so. My mamm will be here in an hour to pick us up. The driver is going to get her first and then come here to get Ruthie and me.”
Dat shoveled more eggs into his mouth while he asked Irma and Titus if they were ready for school. Lydia wished he would ask her if she was ready for her day at school, but he didn’t. She felt invisible. How long would he treat her this way? What more could she possibly do to show him that she did love her family and wanted to be a help to her parents?