Mending Fences

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Mending Fences Page 21

by Suzanne Woods Fisher


  Luke jumped out of the chair to hand David the phone. Grace hesitated and sat back down. David held the phone between them so Luke could hear the conversation and, in a calm, measured voice, explained why they were here. “Grace, we came to see if we can provide help to you so that you’re able to continue in your path of sobriety.”

  That! Now that was what Luke should have said.

  She shook her head, her cheeks bright. “I’m clean now.”

  Luke swallowed a smile. Of course she was clean now; she was in jail. It’s what would happen when she was released—that’s where addiction had to be faced down.

  She had her eyes on Luke, as if she could tell what he was thinking. “Like I told the kid, I’m clean and sober. Almost two years now. I just had . . . a slip-up. One.”

  David nodded. “Have you been taking part in any program while you’ve been at the county prison?”

  She shrugged. “There’s not much here.”

  Well, not much was better than nothing.

  “I understand you were picked up by the police in Lancaster,” David said. “May I ask what brought you here?”

  Grace’s bravado disappeared and was replaced with a shocking vulnerability. “I came to . . . make amends.”

  David’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s a fine place to start. I’d be interested in knowing more.”

  “Is that why you’re here? You want some kind of confession out of me? Look, I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. I served my time. I just had one mistake. Just one. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

  Luke felt as if he was watching two trains pass each other. David’s train was going one direction, Grace’s was going another. David must have had a similar thought. “Grace, could we back up a moment? Let’s start at the beginning. What brought you out here? To whom were you making amends?”

  “My daughter. In Stoney Ridge. She’s one of you. She sent me a letter, asking me to come. She asked me to come.” She patted her chest. “She asked me.”

  Oh my. Wow. So one of Izzy’s letters had made it to Grace, after all. Luke was impressed. She shifted in the chair and light from a huge mirror on the far wall limned Grace’s profile. Man oh man, Luke thought. From a certain angle, she sure looks like Izzy. Rather, he corrected himself, Izzy sure looks like her.

  “So,” David said, “you came to make amends.”

  She lifted her chin when she spoke in a way that reminded Luke again of Izzy. “That’s what I told you.”

  “But something stopped you.”

  She sighed. “I was almost there.” She lifted her hand and pinched her thumb and index finger nearly together. “I was this close. But then I lost my nerve. I stopped to call my sponsor, but she didn’t pick up. And as I hung up the phone, I saw a bar across the street . . . and I thought that maybe if I had a drink, just one, I could better handle facing my kid. It was a big deal, you know. I hadn’t seen her in years. And the last time I saw her, I didn’t do right by her.”

  Luke knew the rest of the story. If she was looking for courage from a bottle, it would take a very big bottle. One drink led to two, to three, to four. And then, somehow, the police showed up. It was a familiar story, one Luke had heard at the rehab clinic plenty of times.

  David was watching Grace carefully as she spoke, so intently that Luke wondered what was running through his mind. “What made you want to make amends?”

  “The Twelve Step program. I’ve been going regularly to AA these last two years. It says you gotta make amends to people you’ve hurt.”

  And didn’t Luke know all about that.

  “I’d done my best to avoid it, but my sponsor told me I couldn’t keep dodging my past. When I got that letter from my daughter, it seemed like the universe was trying to tell me something.”

  “Grace, if you might be willing, there’s a clinic that has wonderful results. It’s in the country, not far from here.”

  “I can attest to the clinic’s success,” Luke said. “I’m a recovered alcoholic.”

  She shot a look at Luke and blinked a few times, confused. “You?”

  “Yes. Me.”

  She considered him for a long moment, then turned to David. “My probation officer said I was facing jail time.”

  “The judge might be willing to offer you a deal,” David said. “Rehab, effective rehab, versus jail time. Your probation officer can explain more.”

  “Hold on.” Her interest was piqued. “So you’re saying that I have a choice. Jail or rehab.”

  “Correct.”

  “Look, obviously, I don’t want to spend more time in jail. But I really don’t need another stint in rehab. I’ve been clean for two years. Two years! That’s gotta count for something. I’ve never stayed clean that long.”

  “I think you do need rehab, Grace,” David said. “The reason you relapsed was because you faced an important part of healing without any scaffolding to support you.”

  “Not true! AA has helped me. Trust me, I’ve tried it all.”

  “Alcoholics Anonymous is a wonderful structure, if you embrace all twelve steps.”

  “I have. I’ve tried. I told you. One slip-up, that’s all.”

  “What about step 11?”

  “What about it?”

  David repeated step 11 from memory. “‘Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood him, praying only for knowledge of his will for us and the power to carry that out.’”

  Grace looked away, frowning.

  “You said the universe was sending you a message. Is that your understanding of God? A nameless universe? Because I think of the universe as a very hostile place. A broken world. But there is a loving God who made the universe, who is always at work to redeem those he created.”

  Grace folded her arms against her chest. “So that’s why you’re here. You’re out to convert me. Just like you did with my girl.”

  David shook his head. “Not at all. I want you to be prepared to live the rest of your life without drugs or alcohol. I want you to have the life God intended you to live. But it can’t come apart from God’s help. I think this clinic would be able to help you find the life you’re looking for.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Look. I don’t have money for rehab.”

  “Our church might be willing to help you. We have funds available. The clinic is run by Plain people. They have such good results because faith is part of the program. There is no true healing without God involved.”

  “So let me get this straight. You’re offering to send me to rehab. To even pay for it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Why . . . why would you be willing to do this?”

  “Grace, your daughter would like to have a relationship with you, but we can’t let you be a part of her life if you’re not clean and sober.”

  Grace’s face blanched. “She still wants to see me? Even though I missed her wedding?”

  “Wedding?” David and Luke exchanged a look.

  “Yeah. That’s why I came back to Stoney Ridge. For her wedding.”

  A wedding? Luke could almost see the gears turning in David’s mind, just like they were in his own head. She wasn’t talking about Izzy and her letter. She was talking about—

  “Grace,” David said, “what’s the name of your daughter?”

  twenty-four

  David asked again. “Grace, what’s the name of your daughter?”

  “Jenny. She went by the last name of Yoder. I don’t remember what her married name is.”

  Quietly, Luke said, “Stoltzfus.”

  Grace blinked. “Wait.” She pointed at David. “Isn’t that what you said your name was?”

  David hesitated. “Yes. It’s a common name.”

  Not all that common in Lancaster, Luke thought. He wondered if David might reveal more—that Jenny Yoder had married his son, Jesse, and that he was Jenny’s father-in-law. But David kept a poker face and leaned back in his chair.

  “Grace, we came her
e today on behalf of Isabella Miller.”

  “What?” Grace went blank, stunned. Several long seconds passed before she added, “She’s . . . here?”

  Something clicked in Luke’s mind and it started to spin. Hold on, hold on. Then that would mean . . . Izzy and Jenny—they were sisters? He wanted to laugh, or cry, or both. But when he looked at David, he was shocked to see such stillness emanate out of him, utterly at peace. How did he do it? Somehow he was able to absorb any shock without obvious effect. Luke, he could barely contain a roller coaster of emotion.

  Grace looked like Luke felt. Shaken and stirred. Even with the distance of the glass divider, Luke could see the hand that held the phone was trembling.

  “When did you last see Isabella?” David asked.

  “It’s been a while.” Her eyes grew shiny. “She was little when they took her away from me.”

  Took her away. Ah, how Luke recognized that tone! He could see it objectively now. Izzy was put in foster care because Grace was arrested for her drug habit. No wonder Izzy had no patience for him at first. She recognized that note of self-pity too.

  Grace wiped her eyes with the back of her forearm, then took in a deep breath and let it out. “So that’s why you’re here.” She looked at David. “Isabella, she’s staying with you?”

  He nodded. “She wants to be baptized into the church this year. She’s been going through classes.”

  “I would think you’d want to keep me far away from her, then. She’s right where you people want her, isn’t she?”

  David ignored that. “Isabella had a rough go of her childhood. She was sent from one foster family to another, and then to group homes. When she ran away, she ended up living on the streets in Lancaster. By the time she connected with our deacon, she’d developed a pretty serious dependence on alcohol. And she was only seventeen.”

  Luke was all ears. In the last thirty seconds, he’d learned more about Izzy than he had in four months of knowing her.

  “She ended up going to rehab, Grace. This same clinic. And when the time came to be released, we offered her a place in our church. No strings attached. Just a place to come and find her way forward. There’s never been any pressure on her to go Amish—that’s been her own choice.”

  Suddenly Grace’s eyes went wide. “Then, do she and Jenny know each other? They must.”

  “They do. In fact, they’re good friends. But they aren’t aware that they’re siblings.”

  “They had different fathers. All three of my kids did.”

  “Good grief,” Luke whispered. “There’s a third?”

  “Chris Yoder,” David whispered back, hand over the receiver. “Married to one of Amos’s daughters.”

  Grace was watching them but couldn’t hear. Nervously, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “The other two, they’re older than Isabella. She never knew them. They were taken away from me before I had her. When I got pregnant with Isabella . . . I tried a do-over. This time, I was going to do it right. It worked for a while. But then . . . it all fell apart.” She shrugged, as if it was part and parcel of her life. “Isabella was too little to know she had siblings. I wanted to make a fresh start. Pretend I was a different person than I was.”

  “But it isn’t possible, is it, Grace? We bring ourselves along. Thankfully, God can redeem even our worst failures.”

  Grace rubbed one of her temples with her fingers, as if her head hurt. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave her be. Let her live her life. Sounds like she’s making choices that will put her on a fixed path.”

  “In a way, she is doing just that. But I believe there’s a part of her that’s unable to heal without addressing some things in her past. And I suspect it’s the same story for you. There are things in your past that need to be faced, not avoided.”

  Grace didn’t respond to that. She had leaned forward on her elbows, with her chin cupped in one palm, eyes on David. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him, almost squinting. “I know you from somewhere. I’m sure of it.”

  David ignored her stall tactic. “Grace, let’s stay focused on Isabella right now. She needs her mother. Whole and healthy.”

  Grace lowered her eyes and traced the edge of the counter with a finger. “How do you know she’s not better off without me?”

  “She’s not,” David said firmly. “Every child needs a parent.” His voice showed a hint of exasperation, the first Luke had noticed. “Look, we want you to have a place in your daughter’s life. We want to help you stay clean and sober, and we don’t think that’s going to happen without gaining tools. The right kind of tools.”

  Grace dropped her head, and Luke realized she was crying. “Every time I try,” she murmured, then swallowed hard, “every single time, I just mess it up.” She banged one fist on the counter. “You don’t realize the things I’ve done.”

  Finally, finally, the façade dropped and she was real. For the first time, Luke felt a glimmer of hope for this woman. David must’ve sensed the same thing, because he waited patiently until she lifted her head. “We’re offering you a chance to make a new life for yourself, Grace. I’m not promising an easy path ahead, but it’s a program that’s helped a lot of people, if they’re willing to be helped. If you want a life that includes your daughter, this is a way to get it.”

  “Are you sure,” Grace said, “that she wants me in her life?”

  “Oh yes,” Luke said. That much he knew.

  “She does,” David said. “Very much so. She’s the one who sent us to find you. But I have to let you know that if you don’t agree to the clinic, I won’t let you see her. We Amish, we can be pretty protective of our own.”

  “So if I say yes to this clinic, then I get to see my girls? And if I don’t agree, then I don’t.”

  “If you agree to participating in the clinic’s program, then you are saying yes to your daughters, to being the mother they’ve always wanted you to be.”

  The guard motioned that their time was almost up.

  “Grace, I want you to think this option over. We’ll be back to meet you on your arraignment day to find out what you’ve chosen to do.”

  “If I don’t agree to this program, then I don’t see my daughters. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? You think I can’t stay clean on my own.”

  “If you choose not to go to the clinic, then I hope and pray you will stay clean. I truly do. But we won’t be letting you near your daughters, not until you’ve proven yourself. And yes, I think it will be much more difficult to stay sober if you don’t have some kind of support.”

  “This place . . . they’ll try to turn me into a Plain person, won’t they? I’d have to wear those kooky clothes?”

  Luke looked down at his shirt and pants. Kooky? Huh. He thought he looked pretty cool.

  “No, not at all. There’s all kinds of people there, English and Plain, but faith is an instrumental part of the process. It’s a clinic that considers God to be the true Healer in this broken world. In people’s broken lives.”

  “Seems like a lot of pressure to not say no.”

  There it was again, that tone of self-pity. It amazed Luke—to think this woman wouldn’t grab a chance to reconnect with her children, whatever it might take. Was he once so selfish? Probably.

  Grace glanced up at Luke. Her eyes, they seemed almost . . . beseeching. “This place . . . it really helped you?”

  “Yes. Along with a caring community. I couldn’t have licked it on my own. No way. Each time I tried to do it alone, I ended up worse than before. Hurting more people than I ever imagined. Addiction is powerful.”

  “It owns you,” Grace said quietly.

  “Yes, exactly that,” Luke said without hesitation. “It wants more and more of you, until it’s taken everything from you. But its hold can be broken. For good. It can, Grace. There’s a whole new life ahead for you.” He gave her a slight smile. “Maybe that’s why your name is Grace. A life of grace waits for you.”

  Grace ducked her ch
in. “I’ll think about it.” She stood up. “I guess I should say thanks. You didn’t have to come here.”

  “Don’t thank us. Thank your daughter. She’s the one who’s been trying to find you. Think about Isabella, Grace. About Jenny. Get well for your daughters’ sake.”

  Grace didn’t respond. Carefully and thoughtfully, she set the phone back in the receiver and walked away. David watched her, and Luke watched David, wondering what he was thinking, because his lips were moving but he wasn’t saying anything. Then he realized David was praying for her.

  David put the receiver back and rose to his feet.

  Luke stood and followed David to the exit. “Well, that was . . . a surprising encounter.”

  Over his shoulder, David said, “On many levels.”

  “What are you going to tell Jenny? And Izzy?”

  “I need time to mull this over.”

  Luke expected David to need mulling time the way Amos needed mulling time—slow and deliberate. To his shock, David had it figured out by the time the bus reached Stoney Ridge.

  “Okay, here’s the plan. I want to wait to tell Jenny and Izzy the news about each other, and about their mother’s whereabouts, until after Grace makes the decision to enter Mountain Vista. Or not. That way, we’ll know how to prepare the girls and not mislead them with unfair expectations. If Grace chooses not to go to the clinic, at least they have each other. And if she does choose to go the clinic route, then they can get reacquainted with Grace together. But I don’t want them disappointed. They’ve had enough of that.”

  “David, was Izzy abused?”

  He sent him a sharp glance. “Has she not told you about her life before Windmill Farm?”

  Luke shrugged. “You know Izzy. She’s not one for questions. Never uses more words than is necessary.”

  “She doesn’t want to go backward, only forward.”

  “I guess I just feel . . . sort of protective of her. I don’t need to know details. I just wondered if she’d been hurt.”

  “What do you think, Luke? A young girl like her, living on the streets.”

  It was all starting to make sense to Luke—Izzy’s defensiveness, her fierce independence, her suspicion about men in general. He wanted to singlehandedly punish the nameless men who had hurt her. To punish them, hurt them, even kill them. It was a horrifying thought for a man about to become Amish, that desire for revenge. He wondered what David would say if he knew Luke’s thoughts. No, hold on. He knew David well enough by now to know. Let a just God dispense justice. Instead of taking vengeance on them, pray for them, Luke. They are in danger of losing their souls for eternity.

 

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