Lancaster Crossroads - 0.50 - A Simple Crossroads: A Lancaster Crossroads Novella

by Rosalind Lauer

  “I thought you would be bright as the sun today,” Lizzy said as she placed a sandwich on the table before her. “Last time I saw you, you were getting ready for the Fourth of July with Chris. How did that go?”

  “It was awesome.” While Lizzy ate, Juanita recounted the highlights of Saturday night. “It was so wonderful that Chris wants to meet my parents, and that’s where things got snagged.” Lizzy had heard about Pablo, Anton Greco’s dance protégé who now co-owned the studio with Nita’s father. “You know my family always had an unspoken agreement that one day Pablo and I would marry. It was sort of a wish. Like, wouldn’t it be great if these two kids got together? And here we are, no longer kids, and somehow my parents are still expecting it to come true.”

  “Does Pablo want to marry you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. When he comes over Sunday nights, he seems more interested in what’s for dinner than in what I have to say.”

  Lizzy cocked her head to one side. “Men can have good appetites, but he should like you more than his supper.”

  “That’s not the case, but my parents don’t seem to see it.” Juanita recounted the argument she’d had with her parents the night before, explaining her parents’ plans for her at the studio. “They want me to quit working here at Papito’s. They want me to give up everything that matters to me.”

  “That would be a terrible thing.” Lizzy frowned, her amber eyes bright with sympathy. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Juanita rested her chin on her fist and frowned. “I’ve been dodging Chris all morning because I can’t bear to tell him the news.”

  “Can’t you talk to your parents again? Tell your mamm you’ve fallen for someone else?”

  “A man who’s not Latino? From a Swiss-German family that owns a Swiss deli?”

  There was a flicker of sympathy in Lizzy’s eyes. “This is something I know about. Amish are meant to marry Amish. Your parents think that you must marry a Latino man.”

  “You’re right.” Juanita frowned. “My family isn’t going to like Chris. He’s never even seen a salsa performance.”

  “Is he allowed to see this dance performed?” Lizzy asked.

  “Yes, but curiosity about the Latin culture doesn’t gain Chris any points. My parents want a Puerto Rican man for me, a man who knows our culture and speaks our language. Oh, Lizzy, what can I do to make my parents understand how I feel?”

  Lizzy’s gaze was soft and distant. “Only Gott knows the answer to that.”

  Juanita sighed. Where was God in all this? “Well, it’s a good time to start praying, because I don’t know what I’m going to tell Chris, and if I don’t think of something fast, I’m going to wake up married to a stranger.” The knot of emotion in her throat was growing, threatening to bring her to tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “We have an expression that says you should be like a teakettle. When you’re up to your neck in hot water, you should sing.”

  “I’ll have to think about that one.” Lizzy had words of wisdom for every occasion. “And I’m certainly up to my neck in hot water. But I’m warning you, there’s a reason I sing only in the shower.”

  “Keep praying.” Lizzy reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’ll pray for you, too. The Heavenly Father has a plan for you.”

  “I sure hope that plan includes Chris.” Juanita bit her lower lip as the colors of the marketplace were blurred by tears. The neon signs, the yellows and reds of blossoms, the vivid stacks of oranges and lemons and apples, the gleam of shiny, clean surfaces, and all the people—this was the world she knew and loved. “I like my job here. I’ve made friends here. I fell in love here. And now, if my parents get their way, my life will be over.”

  “Oh, dear one.” Lizzy handed her a napkin, and Juanita sighed as she pressed it to her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I’m such a baby to be crying over this, but suddenly I’m looking around and I have no control of my own life. I’m twenty-four years old and I live with my parents, who are telling me who to marry.”

  “And you love Chris,” Lizzy said. “But you must remember your parents love you. Do your mamm and dat want you to be unhappy? I don’t think so.”

  When Juanita blinked up at her, Lizzy’s amber eyes were sure and steady. “I know the sky seems dark, but without rain, nothing can grow.”

  Juanita sniffed. “I hope you’re right.” Because right now, there was no way to stop the rain.

  Chapter 6

  As Juanita poured out her troubles, a peaceful feeling settled inside Lizzy. Funny how she had awakened with a troubled heart, but for every moment she tried to help her friend, her own burden seemed lighter. Gott was good.

  While Juanita considered ways to talk with her parents, Lizzy thought of how dear the girl across the small food court table had become to her. Their friendship spanned more than five years of chatting over the counter during lulls in the marketplace. Although Lizzy and Joe spent much of their time here in the city, they were Amish, living Plain, and their commitment and ties in the Amish community were strong. Englisher ways were strange to them. Despite their differences, Juanita had become a good friend. It wasn’t only the fact that Nita had gotten her to the hospital when she had fainted from the pain. After that terrible day, Juanita had opened up to Lizzy in a very personal way. She had explained female things to Lizzy—things that Lizzy did not feel comfortable talking about with anyone else. Not even her own mamm. When Lizzy had thanked her for the pamphlets and the book about conception, Juanita had tossed it off as no big deal. “When you have three sisters who all have loads of kids, everyone talks about pregnancy and childbirth.”

  Nita had given Lizzy prenatal vitamins with folic acid, explaining that it was good for the developing brain stem of her baby. And after the ectopic pregnancy, when Joe couldn’t bear to talk about it, and Mamm had told Lizzy to stop dwelling on it, Juanita had been the only one who had allowed Lizzy to be sad.

  And now Juanita was in a pickle.

  Lizzy understood how family pressure could weigh on a person. The Amish community had a strict set of rules called the Ordnung, and when someone strayed from the path, family, friends, neighbors, and ministers had their ways of reeling the person in.

  But even in the strict ways of the Amish, parents did not choose a husband or wife for their child. Lizzy was glad for that. Otherwise, a baker’s daughter like herself might not have found her way to marry a man like Market Joe.

  Across the table, Juanita was wrapping up her uneaten lunch. “Do you think Joe would want this? I didn’t even touch it.”

  “I’m sure he would. Or else there’s Cousin Simon. Boys that age have an endless appetite.”

  “Good.” Juanita handed it to her friend and smiled. “Thank you for being a friend.”

  Lizzy shrugged one shoulder. “I wish I could help you, the way you’ve helped me.”

  “You’ve helped a lot. I’m sorry you had to spend your lunch break listening to my sad tale.”

  “I don’t mind. It got my mind off my own worries for a while.”

  Juanita slung her leather satchel over her shoulder, then brought it down again. “You just reminded me. I have something for you.” She reached into her bag and brought out a glittering blue card wrapped in shiny, clear plastic. “This is for you. I know it’s a little flashy for the Amish, but I liked the clouds and the shimmering stars. It reminds me of the way we imagine heaven.”

  Lizzy took the card in her hands and marveled at the night sky. Wispy clouds and sparkling stars were a sharp contrast to the indigo sky. “It’s beautiful, but what is it for? It’s not my birthday.”

  “It’s blank inside so that you can write a personal note. It’s a grieving technique I read about in a magazine. You never really got to say good-bye to the baby you lost. This card gives you a chance to do that. Joe can write in it, too, if he wants.”

  Lizzy bristled at the notion. She knew Juanita was trying to be helpful
, but Juanita was not a very practical person. “How could I do that? Who would I mail it to?”

  “Mail it to me, if you like, and I’ll keep it for you for a few years. Or put it away in a box in the back of a closet. Or stash it in your underwear drawer. There’s no wrong answer. This isn’t so much about the card itself as it is about the act of saying good-bye.”

  When Lizzy hesitated, Juanita touched her shoulder. “Trust me, this will help.”

  Not quite convinced, Lizzy thanked her. She would take the card home and hide it away someplace where she would never have to see it again.

  “I’ve got to get back. I’ve got about sixty seconds to dump the bad news on Chris before I’m due back at Papito’s. I still don’t know what to tell him.” She glanced at Lizzy, her brown eyes wary.

  “Tell him the truth,” Lizzy said. “Then tell him there’s always hope.”

  ***

  That night at home, Lizzy and Joe sat out on the back porch for a supper of sandwiches, coleslaw, pickles, and fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and watermelon from her mother’s garden.

  “Ah … a simple supper for a simple man.” Joe leaned back in his chair and tipped back his straw hat. “The tomatoes in your mamm’s garden are doing well this summer.”

  “They love the sun,” Lizzy said. “And I do, too.” The porch allowed a view over the Yoders’ cornfield to the green hills beyond Halfway. Sometimes she felt like she was missing the seasons, spending most of her days working inside the big market, away from windows. With her family owning the bakery, Lizzy had spent most of her life here in town, though she shared her mother’s green thumb in the garden. She enjoyed tending the small flower beds of hardy petunias in yellow, purple, pink, and red that bordered the front of the small house. In the back, she’d had success growing some vegetables and herbs in the garden that Joe had fenced off from the manger where they kept their horse, Nibbles.

  “Is that why I see you out here in the morning with your face tipped to the sun?” Joe teased. “Just like a sunflower.”

  “That’s me—a big sunflower.” She smiled, tickled by her husband’s teasing. Almost five years they’d been married, and Joe still had his way of flirting with her.

  He finished his lemonade and let out a gusty sigh. “So what do you say we take a walk down to the ice-cream parlor? If you’re nice to me, I’ll buy you a cone.”

  “I’m always nice. But I have some chores to do.” Lizzy rose to clear the small table.

  “What chores? We used paper plates, and it’s not wash day.”

  “Just things.” She wasn’t quite sure how to tell Joe about the idea of writing a message to the baby they had lost. Placing the tray on the kitchen counter, she caught sight of the card winking up at her. Sometime during the ride home from Philly, her attitude had changed from awkwardness about the card to an eagerness to put her feelings in writing.

  “What is that?” Joe asked, leaning over her shoulder.

  Embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “Just something Juanita gave me.” She did not keep secrets from Joe, but she also didn’t make him suffer through every detail of her conversations with female friends and relations. Some topics were simply not meant for a man.

  He followed her out to the balcony and sat down across from her as she pulled the tab to take the plastic off the card.

  “Are you trying to keep a secret from me?” he asked, his eyes magnified by the lenses of his black-framed glasses.

  “No … no secrets.”

  “Then why are you holding that card against your apron so I can’t see it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how to tell you about it.”

  “You can start with words.”

  She turned the card to show him. “Juanita gave it to me. It’s a way to work through grief, like we talked about this morning. Nita said that you and I should write a message to the baby we lost. It’s a way to say good-bye. Closure, they call it.”

  Joe took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’d rather take a walk into town for ice cream.”

  “That’s what I thought. I told Juanita you wouldn’t want to do this. You go, get ice cream. I should be finished when you get back.” She opened the card and stared down at the blank page. How to begin? There was so much to say, but she didn’t want to cackle on like an aimless hen.

  When she looked up, Joe was still in the chair, tears in his eyes. “Joe? What’s wrong?”

  His jaw clenched as he turned away. “It’s the baby. Not even a baby, just a little bean. I know it wasn’t born, but he was still a baby, wasn’t he? Still a part of you and me.”

  Lizzy bit her lips together and blinked back tears. She never imagined that she would talk about such things with her husband. Such private, tender topics and emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before this?” she asked.

  “I wanted to.” Joe took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Every day I wanted to say something. But you were so sick in the hospital. And then when you came home, you were sad. I didn’t want to make you feel worse.”

  Dusk was falling around them in shadows soft and blue as Lizzy faced him. Without his glasses, he looked younger and bolder, with the ridge over his brow more pronounced. How she loved this man! She looked into his eyes, really looked, and it was as if she hadn’t seen him for months. How could she not know he was hurting inside, too?

  “I’m sorry, Joe. I was so caught up in my own sorrow, I didn’t think of you.”

  He shrugged. “I was trying to stay strong. I figured one of us had to be strong, and I’m the man. It’s my job.”

  “Ya, but you don’t have to do it all alone.” Lizzy shifted her chair closer, pressed her apron to his eyes and then kissed his brow. “You know what I learned from Juanita? Sorrow needs to find its way out, like a splinter under the skin.”

  “Mmm.” He caught her hands and brought them to his lips. “No more splinters here,” he said, kissing her knuckles.

  “Joe, I do love you.”

  “And I love you.” His smoky eyes seemed to peer straight to her heart.

  The night brought cool air, but her skin felt hot. “If you still want, I’ll go with you for ice cream.”

  “I want. But I’ve changed my mind about the ice cream.” He tugged on her hands, guiding her out of the chair. “I’m thinking of a shorter trip.”

  Lizzy let out a whoop of joy as he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He laughed along, and she giggled, feeling like a young bride again. A breeze rustled the curtains, cooling her skin.

  Outside their window, the crickets were singing, and so was her heart. No need to light the lantern; Lizzy could find her way back to Joe in the dark.

  ***

  Later, out in the kitchen, they shared a glass of lemonade as Joe helped her compose the letter.

  Dear little bean,

  Although Gott brought you into our lives for such a short time, you were truly a blessing to us. Your dat and I want you to know that we have a lot of love for you, and we always will. You’ll always be our first baby. Always. The first child in our simple family.

  With all our love,

  Mamm and Dat

  Emotion was thick in her throat when Lizzy finished writing, but she swiped the tears away and read the letter over again.

  With his hands on her shoulders for support, Joe read silently. “It’s good, Lizzy. That’s exactly what’s in my heart.”

  She sniffed. “Mine, too.”

  Joe leaned closer and wrapped her in his strong arms. And in a surge of relief, Lizzy closed her eyes and surrendered to his love.

  Chapter 7

  August

  The music inside the studio, where Pablo was finishing a group lesson, was muffled by the closed doors. Juanita yawned as she stared blandly at the Puerto Rico and Brazil tour posters lined up on the wall of the reception area. This had been the compromise—working in the studio at night so that she could go to the market during the day. She was gra
teful to be able to keep her job and see Chris every day. But this was a waste of time.

  First, there was the awkwardness with Pablo, who had already hired a receptionist—a tall, leggy blonde named Shanna. When Juanita had arrived to take over, she had not missed the looks that had passed between Pablo and Shanna. The attraction between them was tangible, and though Anton made it clear that he wanted his daughter involved in the operations of the studio, Nita still felt like an intruder.

  As she yawned again and stood up to stretch, she wondered how long she would have to keep this up. Already she’d spent six weeks covering the evenings here, and clearly Pablo was not sweeping her off her feet.

  She chuckled at the thought. What were her parents thinking? This was America, land of the free and home of the brave.

  If only she were brave enough to face her parents with the truth … that she was in love with Chris.

  The muffled music ended, and Pablo’s voice flowed like a fine oboe. A moment later, the door popped open and students began to emerge, gym shorts or skirts covering their scant leotards.

  Pablo emerged, tall and elegant. He was a handsome man, but way too serious-minded for Juanita, who fell for Chris’s wisecracks the first time she met him. Laughter got people over the rough patches in life—that was Juanita’s thinking. When it came time to choose a movie, she always went for a comedy over a drama.

  “Juanita?” Pablo blinked at her as he held up the keys. “You know, you really don’t have to stay so late. I can handle closing, and as you can see, we don’t get many phone calls in the evening.”

  “I’m going to talk to my father about that.” She tucked her purse under her arm and scooted out the door so that he could lock it. They said good night at the bottom of the stairs, and Juanita went to the parking garage to retrieve her car.

  Five minutes later, she was pulling out of the garage exit when she noticed Pablo standing on the corner across the street. He seemed to be waiting there, but it wasn’t a bus stop.