by Sarah Price
That caught Mary’s attention and she tilted her head, waiting for Elizabeth to explain without prodding her for more information.
Looking into her mug, she sighed.“I lost my husband earlier this year.”She paused again.“We had been married for thirty-five years.”
Mary made a gentle clicking noise with her tongue: tsk tsk. But she said nothing. No words of condolence or expressions of sorrow.
Lifting her eyes, she looked at Mary as she continued speaking.“It was an accident. Coal mines are dangerous. We always knew that, but I never really thought it would happen. Not to William.”
“We never do,”Mary finally said as she shook her head and clicked her tongue again.
“In the beginning,”Elizabeth continued, hoping that she didn’t sound as if she were complaining,“people kept showing up unannounced on my doorstep. I know they meant well, but I felt like I was suffocating. Every day, people that I knew and didn’t know, ones that I liked and others that were complete strangers, came to see me. I had no clue why they showed up. Part of me wondered if it was to see my pain…to reassure themselves that their husbands were still alive. The other part of me wondered if it wasn’t just to have something to talk about.”She frowned.“It’s not as though Nottingham, West Virginia is the seat of national news on a regular basis.”
“Oh help!”Mary said in response to Elizabeth’s last statement.
“Well, anyway, it finally stopped. Just about three weeks after he died. One day, no one came by. It was as if someone had made an announcement that mourning for William Fielding had officially ended.”She chuckled.“I don’t know what was worse…the hordes of people or the seclusion.”
“But you have children…”
Elizabeth nodded her head.“That I do. Two of them. A son and a daughter.”She wished she had something warm and caring to say about her children. But her current mood toward them, especially after that conversation with Sophia on the phone, made her feel less than inclined to sugarcoat the truth.“They have their own lives these days, it seems.”
Mary seemed uncomfortable. Elizabeth understood why. Just from what little she knew and certainly from what she had experienced the previous evening, she knew that Mary Troyer had never experienced isolation. With seven children and over thirty grandchildren, Mary’s vocabulary surely did not have the word“isolation”in it.
“They encouraged me to take this trip,”she added, although it wasn’t entirely true.“Well, my son actually and my pastor.”
When she paused, she was glad that Mary didn’t interrupt. Instead, the Amish woman continued to watch Elizabeth with great curiosity, which made her feel compelled to keep speaking. Surprisingly, she realized that it felt good to speak. Finally.
“William and I used to come up this way for vacations. We liked to visit in the winter when things were less…crowded and busy.”
“You stayed in Berlin before, then?”
Elizabeth shook her head.“No. We always rented a cabin in Atwood Lake Park. It was rustic and quiet. About a thirty minute drive or so from here. We’d do a day trip or two out this way, but, in the winter, there isn’t too much open anyway.”
“But this time, you came here instead of the cabin.”It was a statement, not a question.
Elizabeth nodded.“I came back to Ohio. It seemed like a good idea at the time. A time to grieve without the constant memories of William surrounding me, I suppose. It was my son who suggested that I come to this area, though. He thought a change might be good for me. An escape from the memories.”
A man’s voice called out from one of the outbuildings on the other side of the barn. The noise of a saw blade followed.“Memories are wunderbaar gut, Lizzy, but you can’t live through them. Remember that your William has gone to a better place. He walks with the Lord, ja?”
Did he? Elizabeth wrestled with that question frequently. He had not been as committed to church-going as she was. Had he accepted Jesus as his Savior? He said that he did, but she had rarely found him reading Scripture and he never went to Bible study. But he was a good man…hard working and kind, always one to help anyone in need.
“I’d like to think so,”she admitted.
“Then there is not much left to grieve, is there, then?”
Elizabeth looked back at Mary. It was strange, but what the Amish woman just said was exactly what Elizabeth needed to hear. She didn’t want to mourn William any longer. Instead, she wanted to cherish the memories of years past. Her entire life had been spent worrying about others, tending to their needs, and putting everyone else first. In the process, her own identity seemed to slip away, just a little at a time but enough so that she knew she needed to rediscover herself. After all, that is what William would have wanted for her. That was the promise she had made almost a year and a lifetime ago.
“Ja vell,”Mary said, taking a step backward.“Have some chores to tackle. If you need anything else, feel free to come find me. Will be helping Elijah’s Katie with some baking today.”She paused as if thinking of something as an after-thought.“Over at her kitchen, not mine.”
Elizabeth smiled and watched as Mary retreated down the path toward her home. She couldn’t help but wonder what chores Mary could possibly have that kept her busy all day. After all, the house had been spotless last evening and she only had the two young men living at home anymore. Certainly there couldn’t be that much to occupy her time.
Like me, Elizabeth realized. The day was laid out before her with absolutely nothing to do. She had no phone calls to make, no places to visit, and no house to clean. In reality, she suddenly felt as if she had merely relocated to a new location. The destination didn’t matter, she supposed. Nothing had changed.
The thought depressed her as she stood up from the chair, pausing to lift the box that Mary left behind. She glanced one last time at the paddock, admiring the beauty of the cows that dotted the field, before she opened the door and disappeared inside, determined to find some purpose to her life…even if only to her day. That was, after all, the promise she had made.
CHAPTER 6
Besides needing groceries for her propane-powered refrigerator, Elizabeth decided to venture into town to find a small Christian bookstore that she seemed to recall was located on Main Street. Back in West Virginia, her usual evening activities, besides watching the news, were cross-stitching or reading the Bible. Since the cottage had no electricity and, by extension, no television, she figured she’d buy a nice book or two and incorporate that activity into her evenings.
As a child, she loved to read. Unfortunately, with money being so tight in her family, she was limited to the books at the local library in Durbin, about two miles from her home town of Nottingham, West Virginia. During the early 1970s, the selection of books had been limited to say the very least. But she devoured any book that she could get her hands on. At Christmas, while all of the other children received useful gifts such as new clothes or shoes, Elizabeth had been the one child in the family who always received a new book.
After she graduated high school, she married William less than a year later. There had never been any discussion of Elizabeth attending college. It just wasn’t something that the young women did. Not in Nottingham, anyway. A year later, after Ryan’s birth, her days were spent taking care of the house, the baby, and William. Any luxury time afforded to her was spent on an activity that did not require concentration and focus since, nine times out of ten, she’d be interrupted anyway. Simply put, she didn’t have time to read books for fun anymore.
As for William, however, he had always been a big reader. His older brothers mocked him mercilessly when they first were married and, for a brief time, lived at home with his parents.“Reading’s for girls,”they would tease.
Without missing a beat, William would merely smile and nod his head, as if in agreement. He knew better than to argue with his brothers. Years later, when he was promoted to line operator and, later, to a supervisory role at the same coal mine where they worked, th
eir teasing stopped.
William always attributed his success to continuing his education through a lifetime of reading. He read management books, psychology books, anything that he could get his hands on that might aid him in being a better employee. Occasionally, he’d read a Tom Clancy or David Balducci book, usually only on vacation though.
Now, Elizabeth figured that she had the time to return to the passion of her youth. A good book or two might help clear her head. And, if that didn’t work, she knew that it would help her pass the time in the evenings at the cottage.
From past years in Ohio, she knew there was a bookstore in Berlin which was only a few miles south of the Troyers’farm. After consulting the ratty map that she brought with her, the same one that she and William had used many times over the years, she managed to find her way to the center of town without getting lost.
She parked on Main Street, eager to get out and walk for a while. As she locked her car, Elizabeth congratulated herself on her first victory of the day: not getting lost. The thought crossed her mind that, already in three days, she had accomplished more on her own than she had in years. She wondered if that had been an ulterior motive of her son when he suggested that she take this trip.
Shoving the thought from her mind, she started walking down the sidewalk toward the Old Berlin Mill, a gift store that Elizabeth loved to frequent. Despite knowing that she didn’t need anything, she couldn’t help herself from wandering inside to admire the pretty knick-knacks and things that she wished she could purchase. It wasn’t just the matter of not having excessive money laying around; she had nowhere to put them.
She left the store and continued down the road, admiring the familiar buildings that she had visited so often in the past. One of the buildings, an old white clapboard house with a brass rooster on the side, caught her attention and she wandered over to it, pausing to look in the windows. Inside were pretty crafts for sale, little bird houses and ladder back chairs. Normally, she would have loved to go inside but she saw no reason to admire things that she had no business purchasing.
Further down the street, she caught sight of her intended destination. The window display of the Christian bookstore caught her attention and, before she entered through the door, she paused to admire it. Little white lights twinkled from around the window’s edge. There were neatly piled stacks of books on either side of a small Christmas tree which was decorated with bookmarks and reading glasses. A sign in the background read“Jesus is the Reason for the Season.”
She smiled at that, seeing both of her children’s expressions as if they were there with her. Undoubtedly, Sophia would have sighed loudly while Ryan would have rolled his eyes.
The over commercialization of Christmas was always a sore point with her, much to her children’s chagrin growing up. Her insistence on a two present maximum at the holiday had not sat very well with them, especially when they learned about the over-indulging ways of their peers’parents.
As she opened the door, she heard a bell jingle above her head, announcing her arrival. The small store welcomed her with the delicious smell of apple cider. Four aisles of bookshelves beckoned her and, within minutes, Elizabeth was lost, only this time in a good way.
“Do you need any help finding something?”
Startled, Elizabeth looked up, surprised to see a young woman standing nearby. She hadn’t heard her approach. Clearly the young woman with big brown eyes and chestnut colored hair, pulled back into a neat ponytail laying at the base of her neck, worked at the store. She reminded Elizabeth of a younger, fresher, and, frankly, happier version of Sophia.
“Just browsing,”Elizabeth responded.“But thank you.”
“My name’s Kelly if you need anything,”she said. cheerfully.“Just give me a holler.”
With a friendly smile, Kelly retreated back to wherever she had emerged. Elizabeth’s eyes lingered after her, wondering why someone like this Kelly could be so happy doing a simple job like running a bookstore when her own daughter was only happy being overworked at a job that provided little, if any, satisfaction.
Wandering through the store, Elizabeth took her time browsing the many books. She found herself lingering in front of the Christian biographies, pausing as she selected one about a missionary in Afghanistan. She flipped it over and read the summary on the back as she tried to decide whether or not to purchase it.
“Ah, that’s a good one!”
She jumped at the sound of a man’s voice over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Just Elizabeth,”Carl said, his voice sincere.“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She hugged the book to her chest as she tried to smile.“Must be my nerves,”she said apologetically.“I’m not normally so jittery.”
“Too much coffee?”
She laughed.“Perhaps not enough.”
Carl smiled and leaned against the end of the bookshelf. He looked different from the other night. Perhaps because he wasn’t wearing an apron over his clothing. She was taken with his kind eyes and tanned skin. He had the look of a man that frequented the outdoors, yet, she couldn’t imagine that being possible as the owner of a diner.
“I happen to know a place that serves great coffee.”He paused as if thinking about it.“Seems to me that it’s not that far from here, either. You should try it some time. Highly recommend it!”
When she laughed again, he looked delighted.
“I see you found your way back to town,”he said, changing the subject.“No issues with getting lost again?”
For a moment, she almost gasped. How did he know?
This time, it was Carl who laughed. He held up his hands as if to ward off her more than apparent curiosity.“Not intuition this time, I promise.”He glanced around, as if making certain no one could overhead, before he leaned forward and whispered,“Ethan is my son.”
“The young man who works at the Troyers’?”Now she understood why Ethan looked so familiar when he offered his assistance the other day. With the exception of his hair coloring, he was the spitting image of his father. She also understood the connection between Carl and the Amish family. He had said they were neighbors. He had neglected to mention that his son was also their employee.
“I hope you don’t mind that I inquired as to whether or not you arrived safely at their farm,”Carl replied, a chuckle in his voice.“He told me he helped you find your way. I’m sorry my directions were bad. Sometimes my writing is not as clear as I believe it to be.”
“It wasn’t your directions, believe me.”She felt guilty that he blamed himself and, always being the peace keeper of the family, quickly offered an explanation.“I just have a bad sense of direction. My husband always makes fun of me.”Immediately, Elizabeth realized that she spoke as if William were still alive. It was a habit that, seven months after his untimely death, she hadn’t been able to shake.
Something shifted in Carl’s eyes at the mention of her husband. He straightened up and took a step backward, his jovial nature vanished. She suspected she understood why.
“Well,”he said with a more serious expression on his face.“I was glad to hear that you made it all right, anyway.”
Sensing that he was ready to continue on his way, Elizabeth suddenly didn’t want him to say goodbye. After all, the rest of her day would simply be spent alone at the cottage. While she liked Mary, she also knew that the Amish were immensely private. Inviting a complete stranger into their homes for idle chit-chat was probably not a common practice for the Troyers, despite the fact that guests rented the cottage from them on a regular basis.
Elizabeth found herself starving for conversation. How long had it been since she had talked with anyone? Since she had engaged in a discussion with another interested party? Of course, just because Carl recognized her and stopped to chat didn’t mean that he was necessarily interested in continuing a more in-depth conversation.
Still, she found herself not wanting him to say goodbye. Not just yet.“I do want to thank you for suggest
ing the place. It’s very lovely.”She paused.“It’s my first time vacationing alone, you see. If you can call this a vacation…”
His curiosity piqued, he watched her as he said,“You’re welcome, Just Elizabeth who is on a non-vacation vacation.”
“I’m recently widowed.”
There. She had finally said the words. Widowed. It was an ugly word. It conjured up images of little old ladies living in nursing homes, sitting in blue vinyl chairs as they watched talk shows all morning and news all night. She had never imagined herself as being a widow. Instead, she imagined growing old with William and finally having that chance to explore Europe.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”He spoke with a solemn tone in his voice, his eyes downcast and a serious expression on his face.
“It’s been seven months,”she said.“Time to heal, I suppose.”
He shook his head.“Take all the time you need, Elizabeth.”She noticed he had dropped the teasing‘just’before her name.“There’s not cookie-cutter formula for how long grief should take.”
Something about what he said caused her to pause. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him.“You speak as though you have experience with this?”
“Unfortunately, I do,”he admitted. He took a deep breath and exhaled.“But that’s for another day and maybe over a cup of coffee.”He paused.“At that fabulous diner I mentioned earlier.”Just like that, Carl shook off the sorrow of whatever story he had to tell. Elizabeth had always admired that in William and now found that she admired it in Carl.“What have you got there?”Carl asked, pointing to her books as he changed the subject.
“Just a few books.”Realizing how obvious that sounded, she added,“I left home without any.”
“I see.”Glancing around, he smiled and lifted his hand to the young woman who walked by the aisle.“Then you came to the right place.”