And she did that probably because, Amanda realized, until this very moment, she had let Marlene have that much access. She froze, staring at Marlene, her prying mother-in-law.
Amanda felt her heartbeat quicken as she felt the gap between her former life and her future one becoming wider. Yet, at the same time she wondered what she was doing. Was a momentary infatuation with a man who lived in Ohio worth jeopardizing everything she had with Wesley’s family?
Roman’s concerned tone of voice filtered through her thoughts. “Amanda? Amanda, are you still there? Can you still talk to me now?”
At least she knew that answer! “Jah!” she chirped into the phone. “Just give me one second. . . . ”
As she glanced at Marlene, who was still eyeing her with interest, Amanda knew it was time to make some changes. Now.
There was no way she was going to be able to speak to Roman while being watched and monitored by her mother-in-law.
“Marlene, would you mind leaving the kitchen with Regina for a few moments?”
“So you can talk to a man on the phone?” Marlene raised a condemning brow. “To that stranger?”
Roman was anything but a stranger. But Amanda sure didn’t feel like spending another second fending off her mother-in-law’s pesky questions. “Yes, please.”
“I will leave, but I don’t know what to think about this, Amanda.”
Oh, but she did. Amanda was sure of it! She didn’t care for it one bit.
“Danke,” she said. Then she turned her back on any response, and took a fortifying breath when she heard Marlene take Regina from the room. “I’m sorry, Roman,” she muttered. “I had to ask someone to leave the room.”
“I heard you say Marlene. Isn’t that your mother-in-law?”
“It is. I mean, she was.” What was Marlene’s relationship to her now, with her husband up in heaven?
“Is my calling causing you trouble?”
She appreciated that he cared. She appreciated that he remembered her mother-in-law’s name.
But because of that, she knew she was willing to risk getting into trouble with Marlene. There was something about hearing Roman’s voice that was making her feel alive again. Instinctively, she knew if she cut off her ties with Roman, a part of her would die again.
And since she’d already died once with Wesley, she wasn’t willing to go through that again. Once had been enough.
“You won’t cause any trouble. At least, not too much.”
“All right.” But he sounded doubtful.
Hoping to change the subject, she attempted to keep her own tone sounding positive. “I want to hear what you’ve been doing since you got home.”
To her delight, he chuckled. “Then I won’t make you wait another moment to hear about my exciting life.”
“Do go on.”
“First of all, it’s been terribly cold here,” he quipped, his voice thick with humor. “We’ve had a bit of snow, too. At least a foot.”
“Snow?” Forgetting about their joking, Amanda closed her eyes and imagined a hilly Ohio landscape, covered with a thick carpet of freshly fallen snow. It sounded so lovely, and she could only imagine what Regina would have thought about such a winter wonderland! “I’m jealous. It sounds wunderbaar!”
“I don’t know about that. Living with snow isn’t the same as watching it fall from the warmth of a kitchen. It’s been icy and cold out. Every morning I have to go to the barn and break the ice on the horses’ water troughs.”
“I had no idea the water in their troughs could freeze.”
“The horses don’t appreciate it none, that’s for sure.” After a pause, he continued. “I’ve also been keeping busy by mending fences and building a new chicken coop for my mother.”
“A new chicken coop, hmm?” There in the solitude of her kitchen, Amanda allowed her smile to grow. “That sounds mighty interesting.”
“You think so?”
“I do. And it sounds difficult, too.”
“It’s only difficult if you’ve never built a structure like that before.”
“And you have?”
“Too many times, I’m sorry to say. And, I promise, the chickens are only interesting if you’ve never spent much time with them. They’re nasty creatures.”
“Maybe they’re not so bad.”
“Enough about the chickens. Now, tell me about you.”
“Me? Well, I worked one day this week at the bakery, I ran errands, cleaned out two closets, and Regina lost her favorite toy dog. See, not much of interest here with me either.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I want to hear all about Regina losing her dog.”
Amanda chuckled, sure he was teasing.
“So, did you ever find the dog?”
Her mouth went dry. “You really are interested, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
His voice was quiet. Roman wasn’t joking. He really did care. Amanda realized what was happening between them was special.
More than that, really. It was rare.
Roman hadn’t called just to say hello. No, he called because he really did want to hear about her life.
Even if it wasn’t anything special or fancy.
He cared because it had to do with her, and that’s what was important to him.
She was important.
Focusing on the novelty of her feelings, she grabbed one of the kitchen chairs, pulled it near the phone, and sat down. And carefully went about telling him all about the search for the missing stuffed animal. Felt warmth from his interest.
And then, at his urging, she talked some more.
Far too soon, she heard Roman groan. “Listen, Amanda, I had better go. I just looked at the clock and we’ve talked a long time. This call is surely costing a pretty penny.”
“Truly?” With a touch of dismay, she realized that they’d been talking on the phone for a whole thirty minutes. “Oh, jah. You’re right. Thank you for calling.”
“Will you be home tomorrow afternoon? About the same time?”
“I should be.” Although at the moment, she couldn’t think about much beyond the way talking to him made her feel.
“Then I’ll call. If you don’t think it’s too soon?”
He was giving her space. Letting her be the person to tell him no.
“It’s not too soon. I’d like to hear from you.”
“Amanda, we’re going to have to be careful, don’t you think?”
His words warred with the smile she heard in his voice. “Why do you say that?”
“If we continue this, we’re going to have to plan to see each other again.”
“Would you come back to Pinecraft?”
“I could try. Or, maybe you could come up here. You and Regina could see our snow in person.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. . . .”
“Why not? I think you’d love Berlin. And I know Regina would love to make a snowman.”
“She probably would. But I’m just not sure if she’s ready for a long bus trip.”
“She might be.” He chuckled, the sound making her feel warm all over again,. “Don’t sound so worried,” he said, his voice at once comforting and slightly chiding. “It was just a thought. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Amanda.”
“Bye.” When she hung up, his words rang in her ears. Would she one day be brave enough to get on a bus and go see him in Ohio? Or would she only be comfortable asking him to visit her?
What would it mean if they progressed to such cross-country visits? Would it mean that they’d become serious?
She shifted in the chair, and stared across the kitchen, not seeing a thing. Not believing all the feelings coursing through her. Did it all mean that she was actually thinking about marrying again?
And if she was, what did that say about her?
Why, just a few weeks ago, she’d been sure she’d always mourn Wesley. And now . . .
Tears pricked her eyes as she felt his loss all over again. It mixed in with her confusion
about herself and her future and hurt, grating on her insides, scraping her raw.
“Are you off the phone now?” Marlene asked as she walked back in.
Amanda realized it was a rhetorical question. No doubt she’d been waiting, hovering just outside the kitchen, to hear the click of the receiver. Who knows? Perhaps she even overheard some of Amanda’s conversation, too.
“Jah,” she said quietly. “I’m done.”
After a moment, Marlene walked to her side and tentatively rested her hand on the back of the chair. “Amanda, may we talk?”
“Of course. Where’s Regina?”
“She’s coloring in the other room.” After a pause, Marlene pulled out a chair and sat down across from Amanda. “My dear, what is going on?”
Marlene’s gaze was direct and forthright. Amanda answered her in the same way. “As you know, when Regina and I were staying at the condominium, I met a man from Ohio. His name is Roman Keim, and he is a farmer. We spent some time together.”
“He lives in Ohio?”
“Jah. Berlin. Holmes County.”
“Do you know anything else about him?” she asked, letting Amanda know that not only did Marlene know more than she was letting on, she’d also asked Regina questions.
With effort, Amanda pushed away the burst of irritation that coursed through her. She hated when Marlene asked her things she already knew the answer to. “Well, he’s New Order, just like us. But more importantly, he is a good man, a caring man. He still lives with his parents and twin sisters. His grandparents live in their dawdi haus.”
“Do you think there is something special between the two of you?”
“I don’t know.” After some thought she added, “All I know is that when I’m with him I only think about the future, not the past.” Amanda felt her skin heat. Her words sounded so hopeful, so earnest.
Marlene folded her hands tightly on the top of the table. “He must like you if he’s calling you on the phone, Amanda.”
“I guess he does, then.”
“I wish you’d talk to me. I want to know what’s going on in your life.”
“I’m not trying to be evasive, I simply don’t know what’s happening between the two of us. You can be sure that I didn’t go looking for another man in my life.”
“It’s only been two years.”
Only two years. “I know.” She’d been alone one hundred and four weeks—730 days. Too many hours to count. How long, she wondered, was long enough?
“And . . . and my Wesley was your husband.”
My Wesley. “Yes, he was.” There was nothing more to add, was there? He had been her husband, and she had certainly planned to be his wife until her last dying breath.
But he died first, when she was only twenty-three. “I still miss Wesley. I’m not trying to replace him.”
“I hope not. I can’t imagine that he would have wanted to replace you so quickly.”
The words stung, and Amanda knew that Marlene had meant them to hurt.
Over the years, she’d been the best girlfriend and wife she’d been able to be.
She’d borne Wesley a beautiful daughter and had planned to have a whole house of kinner.
And then, when he’d gotten sick, she’d done nothing but stay by his side and nurse him.
And now, for two years, she’d done her best to be his good and proper widow. She’d honored his memory and cried more tears than she could ever measure.
But she was lonely . . . and she’d promised Wesley that she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life grieving. Promised him more than once when she’d sat by his bedside, when she’d held a hand that was no longer strong, when she’d cared for a man who was no longer vibrant. Who slowly became almost unrecognizable except for his beautiful brown eyes that always seemed to see too much.
“Marlene, you’re not being fair to me or to Wesley.”
“I’m only watching over his memory.”
“He didn’t want me to mourn him forever.”
“Yes, but it hasn’t been forever, Amanda. Only two years.” Her mother-in-law murmured as she stood up and turned away. But that wasn’t fast enough to hide her quivering lip.
Amanda tried to remember that Marlene was mourning her son, too. “Marlene, I am sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings. I don’t mean to make you upset. I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”
With her back still to her, she said, “Amanda, I think I will go home now.”
“You don’t want to help me with the casseroles?” They’d volunteered to make several meals for some families in their community, and Amanda had only volunteered for the job because Marlene had wanted to do it with her.
“Not today. I’m sorry,” she said over her shoulder as a bit of an afterthought.
When she heard the front door slam shut, Amanda sat back down. Heard Regina talking to herself while she colored.
And realized she’d never felt more alone. Without even meaning to, she’d finally severed the past and it couldn’t be fastened back together.
Even if things returned to how they used to be, there would always be the memory of her phone call. As well as the knowledge that for thirty minutes, she’d once again been giddy and happy and flirty.
She’d once again been the woman she used to be . . . all for a man who wasn’t Wesley Yoder.
Chapter Fourteen
The Keims were just leaving the Millers’ home after church services and a light luncheon of sandwiches and salads when Bishop Coblentz stopped Roman as he was slipping on his black wool coat.
“It was a nice service, Bishop,” Roman said politely. “Once again, I find myself uplifted from listening to the Scripture’s words.”
“Jah, the Lord always has the right words, ain’t so?”
“Always.” He flashed a grin. “Enjoy your nap this afternoon.” It was well known that the bishop appreciated an hour’s rest after church on Sunday.
“Oh, I shall.” His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “I guess my habits are no secret.”
“Good ideas are always talked about. I’m thinking of taking things easy this afternoon as well. We all need a day of rest.”
He started to turn away when Bishop Coblentz stopped him with a firm touch to his shoulder.
“Before you begin that rest, may I speak to you for a moment, Roman?”
“Of course.” Looking around, he saw Elsie and his mother still chatting with Mrs. Miller and her newly married daughter. About a dozen other folks were either talking in small clusters, cleaning up the last remnants of the luncheon, or attempting to gather their children.
Only the back cement patio was deserted. “Why don’t we head over here?” he said after motioning to his mother that he needed more time before leaving.
The bishop nodded. “That’s a good spot.”
Roman led the way to the Millers’ back patio. In spring and summer, an iron table and chairs sat squarely in the middle, the whole arrangement framed by the sweet scent of blossoming apple trees and the beauty of more flowers than he’d ever be able to name.
Now, in the dead of winter, the area was rather desolate. Flowering plants lay dormant under the covering of snow, and the apple trees were bare, their spindly arms lifted toward the sky like misshapen scarecrows.
Without any foliage to block the wind, Roman thought the air seemed even colder. But it also felt crisp and bracing, and he gave thanks for it, since it seemed he was going to need a clear head to talk with the bishop. The older man looked like he had something important on his mind to share.
“Is everything all right?” Roman asked. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Bishop Coblentz folded his weathered hands neatly on top of one of the black wrought-iron chairs he was standing behind. “I am fine, Roman, and I thank you for asking. Actually, your well-being was one of the things I was hoping to discuss with you.”
Though the bishop’s words were stated, he’d lifted the end of his sentence, as if he were asking a question.
Roman started to feel uneasy. “My well-being?” he echoed.
“Jah.” The older man cleared his throat. “How are you, Roman? I imagine you’re having quite a time, what with your father in the treatment program and all.”
“I am all right. Just fine.” With some surprise, he realized he was speaking the truth. Just a few weeks before, he would have given almost anything to make his life easier. He’d been disturbed by his grandmother’s news about her past life and had dearly wished for his father’s alcohol abuse to go away. Sometimes, late at night, he’d even stayed up and worried about what was going to happen with Elsie. With Viola getting married, he’d felt that it was his duty to accept more responsibility for Elsie’s future care.
Now, everything still seemed difficult, but not insurmountable.
He knew the reason, of course. Ever since he’d returned from Florida he’d been so consumed with thoughts about Amanda that all the problems in his family had ceased to keep him up at night.
After staring at him intently for a moment, the bishop nodded. “Roman, I do believe you are all right. That is gut. It makes this a little easier.”
Roman was starting to have the feeling that he’d walked into the middle of another man’s conversation. “It makes what a little easier?”
“Henry Zimmerman came to see me two weeks ago. He’s in poor health and has to step down from his preaching duties. The job has become too much for him, especially what with his farming and his failing health.”
“I see.”
“So, we asked for suggestions for a replacement from the congregation at the last church.”
“I heard. I’m sure the congregation chose several good men for the lot.”
“They did.” As the bishop paused for breath, a slow, sinking feeling settled deep in Roman’s chest.
Suddenly, he realized why the bishop had wanted to speak to him. “Was my name mentioned?”
“Jah.” The bishop nodded. “Your name was chosen for the lot, Roman. It got one of the most votes.”
“I see.” Their church district had three ministers, who took turns preaching every two weeks. Whenever it was time for a vacancy to be filled, the congregation voted, then the top vote getters would be entered into the lot. Of course, every man who had been baptized into the church was eligible. Then, a Scripture passage was slipped in a stack of hymnals. If a man picked up the hymnal with the verse inside it, he would be the congregation’s new preacher.
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