The Wish

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The Wish Page 7

by Beverly Lewis


  “Calling doesn’t put me out. You know that.”

  More sniffles.

  Leona felt frustrated yet compelled to do something. A crazy notion struck her. “What if I came to visit you?” she suggested. “We could talk things through face-to-face—whatever’s troublin’ ya.”

  “You’d do that? You’d come all this way?”

  “We said we were sisters for always, remember?”

  There was another long pause. “Well, if you’re serious,” Gloria said slowly, as if thinking this through. “I was actually going to ask if you’d come, but now you’re offering. I honestly didn’t expect that.”

  “Sounds like we’re in agreement, then.” Leona laughed softly.

  “I insist on helping pay your way.”

  “Let me see what’s available for transportation. It might take me a day or so to make arrangements.”

  “Oh, Leona, I can’t believe this! It means so much to me.”

  “I’ll call you again when I know more, all right?” She spotted Brownie nudging his way inside the phone shack, pushing the door open with his nose. “Here comes your old pet.”

  “Aw . . . how’s Brownie doing?”

  “Getting up in years for a dog, of course.” Leona told her what a special part of the family he had become. “En wunnerbaar Hund.”

  “I’m so glad he’s with you, Leona. I really am.”

  They talked for another minute or so before Gloria initiated the end of the call.

  “Jah, till we meet again,” Leona replied, echoing the words Gloria had written in her final note, attached to Brownie’s collar.

  They said good-bye and hung up.

  Leona shook her head. Whatever the reason Gloria had reached out to her, she was pleased she had. Breathing deeply and thanking the Good Lord for the opportunity to help her friend, she leaned down to hug Brownie, whose small tail thumped against her. “I just talked to your first owner,” she said lightheartedly. “Do you remember Gloria?”

  Brownie tilted his head to look at her, and she laughed.

  But as she began to walk back toward the house, Brownie by her side, concerns began to rise in her mind. Will my parents or Tom object? And will Maggie even give me the time off?

  Leona’s happiness quickly dissolved into a long list of uncertainties. Was I too impulsive just now?

  CHAPTER

  13

  That evening, after supper dishes were washed and put away, Leona took time to brush her hair and put it back into a fresh bun, donning her best blue dress and matching apron for her time with Tom Ebersol. She’d scrubbed her face extra well, peering into the small mirror over the bathroom sink to look for blemishes but seeing none. Now, thinking it might rain, she decided to take along her umbrella.

  “Where are you headin’?” her mother asked.

  “For a walk with Tom.”

  Mamma nodded, a twinkle in her eye. “Enjoy your time together.”

  On her way out, Leona walked around the barn, past the stable and the corncrib, full of thoughts of Gloria and all the fun they’d had together here.

  She planned to tell Tom about her surprising letter, and of offering to go see Gloria, soliciting his advice on whether she should speak to his father, perhaps—or to one of the preachers—before she left. It wasn’t required, but as a baptized church member, she certainly didn’t want to cause undue concern.

  The heaviness in the atmosphere portended rain, although thankfully there was no lightning or rumbling thunder in the distance. Still, she had been wise to bring the umbrella.

  She tried to relax, anticipating seeing her betrothed. As she walked, she was ever so thankful that her and Mamma’s relationship had improved some during the years the Gingeriches hadn’t been a part of Leona’s life. Things have gotten even better since I announced my engagement, as well.

  Nevertheless, it wasn’t as if they were close. Most conversations were initiated by Leona, and her father was just as close-lipped. Truth be told, she still missed Gloria’s family and the easy feeling of belonging.

  It’ll be so gut to see them again, she thought. No matter the changes . . .

  Just ahead, she saw Tom, also holding an umbrella, standing near a tree so tall it dwarfed him. He was wearing his straw hat with its black band, his face beaming as she approached him at the perimeter of the clearing. She picked up her pace, delighted to see him, too.

  ———

  Leona gets prettier every day, Tom thought as she quickened her step toward him.

  “Hullo,” he greeted her.

  She looked up at him, eyes blinking. “Wie geht’s?”

  “Wunnerbaar-gut, now that you’re here.” He offered his left arm, and she took it to begin their familiar walk. “Was Maggie’s store busy this week?” he remembered to ask.

  “Lots of customers bustling about,” Leona said quietly. “Spring fever, I guess.”

  He measured the flow of their conversation as she shared about her day. When was the best time to reveal his surprise?

  Suddenly, Leona stopped and turned to him. “Oh, Tom, I feel like I might burst if I don’t get this out right now.”

  How he loved her zest for life! “What’s on your mind?”

  “You’ll never guess, so I’ll just tell you: I talked to Gloria Gingerich earlier today!”

  “Gloria?” Shock coursed through him. “But . . . how?”

  Leona touched his arm gently. “She wrote to me, apologized for not keeping in touch, then asked me to call her.” She went on to say that something seemed terribly amiss. “Something more than the obvious. You see . . . Gloria and her family have left the Amish church out there.”

  “That’s terrible news.”

  “I was actually hoping you might advise me.” She paused. “You see, I offered to go an’ visit her.”

  Visit Gloria . . . and her family? He hardly knew what to say as he reached for her hand.

  “You must be as surprised as I was,” Leona continued before he could respond.

  “That’s one way to put it.” Tom began walking again, slowly setting one foot in front of the other in the hope it would help him think. With a sideways glance, he asked, “Are you really considering going?”

  “Now that she’s gotten in touch with me, I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t believe she’s happy with the life she’s living, and I’d like to talk with her heart to heart, like we used to.” Leona had never sounded so earnest. “Just think, Tom—what if I could persuade her to return to the Amish?”

  Simply put, Tom had deep misgivings about his fiancée spending any time with such a family, but at least she was looking to him for guidance. “I’m not too keen on it,” he finally admitted, “considering that Arkansas Joe is a shunned man.”

  Leona shook her head. “This is about Gloria, though. Remember how dear she always was to me?”

  He stopped walking again. “If I told ya I’d rather you didn’t go, would you at least think about it?”

  Leona’s face grew solemn. “Gloria’s reachin’ out to me for a reason,” she said, her lower lip quivering. “And if there’s any chance of bringin’ her back to the fold, then I feel I should go.”

  “Well, tellin’ the truth, I’m not surprised they abandoned the Plain life,” he blurted.

  “Please don’t say that.” Her voice wavered as her eyes filled with tears. “Please, Tom.”

  “Joe Gingerich was the most underhanded church member to ever farm in this area!” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. He was never supposed to voice this. Not to a soul.

  Leona looked stricken, and Tom felt foolish. Furthermore, he questioned his own motives. Was he worried for Leona, or for himself? After all, for a short while, Adam had been a very promising beau.

  Tom took a deep breath. I can trust her, he assured himself. The Gingeriches aren’t even Amish anymore.

  “I’m so sorry,” Tom said, reaching for her. “I shouldn’t have said that. You and Gloria always were like sist
ers, ain’t?”

  She sighed. “That’s exactly why I need to go, Tom. You know my heart in this, but I want your blessing.”

  For a long moment, he held her near. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

  Leona gave him a small smile as she nodded. Then he gently led her out of the beautiful area she so loved just as the rain began to fall.

  The news of his father’s gift of land would have to wait for a more suitable time.

  When Dawdi Benuel joined them for Sunday breakfast, Leona told her family about the call to Gloria and her desire to make a trip to Arkansas, hoping the news might go over better with them than it had last night with Tom.

  Mamma gasped, and Dat gave Leona a long look. “Arkansas?” he said. “Have ya thought this through, daughter?”

  “I really don’t know how everything will fall into place,” she confessed, passing strawberry jam to Dawdi for his toast, “but it sure sounds like Gloria’s in a pickle. I’d like to help if I can.”

  “And they ain’t Amish any longer, ya said?” Dawdi Benuel frowned.

  Mamma, calmer now, said nothing, her attention seemingly on buttering her toast.

  “That’s what Gloria told me,” Leona replied.

  Dawdi Benuel raised one thick gray eyebrow and shook his balding head. “Ach, such a shame.” He sighed. “I often wondered ’bout Joe . . . comin’ all that way with his family to join our community like he did. Why would anyone do such a thing?” He raised his coffee cup and took a slow sip. “Never seemed quite right.”

  “No one questioned it back then—or did they?” Leona asked, glad to have this opportunity to discuss something she’d long pondered. “I was too young to notice.”

  Dat wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist. “As I recall, some of the ministerial brethren did.”

  “Is that right?” Leona wondered now about her father’s willingness to let her stay with the Gingeriches when she was in fifth grade. He must have done so with serious reservations.

  Mamma nodded her head and finally spoke up. “I remember the family dressed different when they arrived. It was clear they were from a more progressive district.”

  “It didn’t take long, though, and Jeannie sewed new clothing like ours here,” Leona pointed out.

  “And Joe and Jeannie joined church right quick, too . . . never seemed to hesitate,” Dawdi noted, then asked for some water from Leona, who got up right away. “They joined nearly as quickly as they left,” he said thoughtfully, thanking Leona when she brought back a tumbler full.

  Leona agreed. “It does seem peculiar.”

  “Guess we shouldn’t be surprised they went fancy, really,” her father said with a glance at Mamma. “Would have been a challenge for them to adapt to a stricter Ordnung.”

  When they were finished eating, Leona rose and cleared the dishes to the sink while her parents and Dawdi talked further around the table. The subject of the Gingeriches had certainly made for a lot of conversation tonight, but she realized her parents hadn’t really addressed her hope to visit Gloria.

  By the time she rejoined them, Dawdi’s eyelids were beginning to droop. What with all he’d eaten of the simple fare, it wasn’t surprising. How will he stay awake through Preaching now?

  “I’m glad we talked ’bout this,” Leona said softly.

  “You and the Gingerich girl practically grew up together, ain’t?” Dawdi said, perking up a bit. “All the hours you spent with her and her family. There for a while, before they moved away, I was beginning to think you’d adopted each other.”

  Leona blushed and hoped his remark wouldn’t upset Mamma.

  “Yous were awful close.” Dat sighed. “Yet that’s never affected your respect for the Old Ways.”

  Dawdi ran his knobby fingers through his lengthy gray beard and pressed his thin lips together as if considering this. “I ’spect you pray for Gloria, now and again.”

  “Oh, every day.”

  A gentle smile spread over his wrinkled face. “Well then, the Lord above knows your heart, Leona. He knows why you want to go all that way out there to see her.”

  She nodded, grateful. “I want to see things made right between Gloria and her heavenly Father.”

  “Is Tom okay with this?” Dat asked. “If so, then I s’pose a short visit with Gloria would be all right. The brethren would likely be fine with it, too, knowin’ your reasons.”

  Leona replied that Tom knew. “And I feel so strongly that this is the right thing for me to do.”

  Dat gave a nod of acknowledgment as he folded his hands, ready for the silent prayer. But it was Mamma who surprised Leona by patting her hand beneath the table.

  CHAPTER

  14

  After Preaching service, while waiting for the fellowship meal, Leona found Maggie outdoors with her three children. “Could ya manage if I took a few days off work?” she asked timidly. “How would ya feel ’bout it?”

  Maggie turned to her in surprise. “Am I workin’ ya too hard, maybe?”

  Leona shook her head. “I called Gloria Gingerich yesterday. She sounded all ferhoodled—my heart went out to her, so I offered to go and see her, and she agreed.”

  “That’s a big step.” Maggie looked momentarily happy for her before becoming somber. “Well, I suppose I can manage for a bit, but not for too long, jah?”

  “I sure don’t wanna be replaced . . . and I understand if you can’t spare me.” Leona felt self-conscious about asking for favors even from her sister-in-law. “I’ve already talked with my parents and Tom. I’m also going to try to see the deacon ’bout it later this afternoon.”

  Maggie nodded thoughtfully. “’Tis prob’ly wise, since Gloria’s a Yankee now.”

  Hearing this spoken aloud made Leona feel unsettled. “It’s still hard to believe it even though she admitted it to me herself.”

  “I’m sorry for your friend.” Maggie bowed her head. “What a disgrace.”

  Leona felt on edge as they waited together on the bishop’s side porch while the appointed women readied the meal of cold cuts and homemade bread for the first of several seatings. “I best be makin’ some calls from the phone shanty tomorrow. I need to find out what the trip will cost—Gloria’s offered to help pay.”

  “You really think this is a gut idea, goin’ clear out there, spendin’ time with folk who’ve left the People?”

  Leona wondered if she was getting the carriage before the horse. Even so, she was willing to do whatever she could to bring Gloria back home—where she belonged.

  My dearest wish.

  Leona didn’t feel at all nervous about talking with Deacon Moses Ebersol, well-known for his kindness and care—“a gut man,” her Dat had said of his longtime friend. And trusting that all would go well, Leona knocked on the back door of the deacon’s big farmhouse.

  No one stirred inside, so she knocked again. Yet all remained quiet.

  Leona had moved to one of the windows to peer in when Miriam emerged. Tom’s seventeen-year-old sister looked a bit wide-eyed when she saw Leona there. “Hullo, Leona,” Miriam said, holding open the door.

  “Is your father home?” Leona asked, moving toward her.

  “He and Mamma went with Rachel to check on my mother’s sister up in Bird-in-Hand.”

  “Hasn’t taken ill, I hope.”

  “Well, she’s had some trouble with her asthma flarin’ up.” Miriam looked sad, like her aunt was worse than she was letting on.

  “Do ya happen to know when they might return?”

  “Oh, not till after supper.” Miriam gave her a searching look. “Can I help?”

  “Nee . . . I’m sorry to bother ya.”

  “Tom’s round here somewhere.” Miriam motioned toward the barn.

  “That’s all right.” Leona smiled. “Denki, though.”

  “Have yourself a nice evening.”

  “You too.” Heading home, Leona wondered what she should do. Since her parents and Tom had given their okay, wouldn’t it be all right for
her to commit to a quick trip before talking to any of the brethren? Surely so . . .

  Tom was amused when his sister Anna insisted that her beau, and Miriam’s, too, would be counting on both girls being at the evening’s Singing. The fact was, he didn’t really want to take both of his sisters to Singing tonight unless they were certain of a ride home. He was holding out for an opportunity to spend time with Leona, mighty curious if she was still planning to go to Arkansas. After mulling it over further, he continued to have concern about Leona’s spending time with anyone under Joe Gingerich’s influence, Gloria included. It had crossed his mind that it seemed strange for Gloria to reach out to Leona now. Can any good come of it? he wondered. I’d hate to see Leona hurt again.

  “Please, Tom?” Anna asked from beside his perch on a stool there in the front room.

  “Why don’t yous get a ride with Danny—he’s taking his buggy tonight,” Tom suggested.

  “All right, then,” Miriam said. “As long as he’s goin’, too.” She pitched a small throw cushion at him, and Tom caught it, tossing it back.

  He frowned. “Where is Danny, anyway?”

  “Still in his room.” Anna motioned toward the stairs.

  “By the way, I think he does have a sweetheart-girl,” Miriam whispered, “so don’t let him play innocent next time ya ask.”

  Lately, Tom had seen Danny talking with Preacher Miller’s granddaughter at youth activities, and while Linda Miller wasn’t deaf like Danny, she had picked up sign language remarkably fast. And Danny could read lips pretty well, too.

  Just then, Danny wandered downstairs, his hair all scruffy, something Anna pointed out to him.

  Seeing the mischief in his brother’s eyes, Tom grinned and decided to stay out of it. If Danny was courting Linda, he’d want to look his best for the evening. Who knew but Danny might marry this year, too?

  I’m a blessed man, Tom thought, remembering again Leona’s happiness at his proposal. Things were falling nicely into place, and he promptly dismissed any further thoughts of the Gingeriches.

  As it turned out, Tom drove Miriam to Singing that evening, and Danny took talkative Anna. Upon arriving, the girls hurried inside, saying it was too chilly to dillydally in the open carriages while Tom and Danny tied up the horses.

 

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