The Wish

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The Wish Page 15

by Beverly Lewis


  Tom directed the horse to a trot, keeping up with his father’s carriage ahead.

  Anna lapsed into silence for the remainder of the ride, which was fine with Tom, who had his own concerns . . . ones he wasn’t about to voice to Anna or to anyone else. For certain, hearing that Gloria was coming back to Colerain was a surprise!

  “With the stops we’ve been making, losing an hour means we won’t get to your house till around two in the morning, unfortunately,” Gloria told Leona as they stretched their legs outside a rural gas station that evening. “Will such a late arrival disturb your parents? I don’t want to wake them.”

  “Are ya tired of driving?” asked Leona. “We could stay overnight somewhere. I brought some cash if we need to,” Leona offered. “Seriously.”

  “So did I.” Gloria smiled. “It might give your parents more time to prepare for having a houseguest, too.”

  “On second thought, they might fret in the morning, thinking something happened to us,” said Leona.

  “We’d better keep going, then,” Gloria said, weary of driving though she was. She wondered how she was going to make the long trip back to Arkansas on her own. I’ll definitely need to get a motel halfway.

  Gloria’s phone chimed, and she glanced at it quickly before answering. “Hi, Mom. We’re near Blacksburg, Virginia, making decent time.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you girls. Everything going smoothly?”

  “Just fine. I’m glad you’re not freaking out.”

  “Well, this is your first big road trip.”

  Gloria glanced at Leona. “Leona’s keeping me company.”

  “Yes, well . . . I’m glad she’s such a good friend to you, but I hope you’re not thinking of doing anything rash. Her coming . . . this trip—it’s all so spur-of-the-moment that it’s got us worried. We love you, Gloria. And Darren thinks the world of you.”

  She felt trapped, unsure how to answer.

  “In fact, Darren just called to talk to your father . . . seems nearly as concerned as we are. This is out of character for you, after all.”

  So Dad and Darren are talking behind my back? Gloria thought. That’s just what I need.

  Mom continued. “Leaving town so abruptly . . . it’s a risk you’re taking.” She sighed loudly into the phone. “Darren thinks you might be breaking things off with him.”

  “Darren and I have to find our own way, Mom.”

  “Sure, Gloria. But I don’t see how you can do that when you’re headed to Pennsylvania.” Mom chuckled nervously.

  “I really don’t want you to worry about me, okay?”

  “Well, drive safely, dear. Text me when you arrive, no matter how late.”

  They said good-bye, and Gloria clicked off the phone.

  “Everything okay?” Leona asked.

  Gloria mentioned that Darren had called her father. “It’s not like him to solicit advice from my parents. I feel even more pressure, hearing this.” She drew a breath. “Well, maybe I’m just frustrated. He’s nervous because I need some time apart.”

  “We all do from time to time. Jah?”

  “But Darren knows I’m struggling with a serious commitment to him.” Gloria squinted into the oncoming traffic, promising herself she would never sit down again, once this trip was over. Then, laughing at herself, she told Leona what she’d just thought.

  “Funny, ’cause I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” They both laughed now, and Gloria was thankful once more for such an understanding friend.

  It was after two o’clock in the morning when Gloria made the turn into the Speichers’ long driveway and parked behind the three-story house in the pitch black. The only light to be seen was the gas light in Millie’s kitchen, a yellow glow in a sea of darkness.

  Gloria popped the trunk and got out of the car, grateful for the spray of cheerful light. Like home . . .

  Gloria and Leona kept their voices low as they first hauled their bags out of the trunk, and then the now-empty cooler from the back seat. “I’ll come back for it,” Gloria told Leona as she followed her up the familiar walkway toward the house.

  She breathed in the smell of freshly mown hay, so like the scent of the Hill View Amish farming community. Pausing on the top step, Gloria turned to look at the stars—identical to the sky she sometimes admired back home. Yet there seemed to be something different here, a very different feel. Was it because she’d discovered Leona here in sixth grade? Truly, Gloria’s years here had been special ones. Blessed, even!

  “More likely I’m just worn out,” she murmured. She heard Brownie yip softly as he came to her from the screened-in porch. “Hey, you sweet, furry thing,” she whispered. “Could you possibly remember me?”

  Tired as she was, Gloria sat on the step and nuzzled the dog as he licked her chin. Oh, how she’d missed his warm greetings!

  Next thing, Leona was beside her, too, whispering that her mother had gotten up briefly to say they should help themselves to whatever they might be hungry for. “And the spare room’s all ready for ya,” Leona added quietly. “Mamma’s thankful we made it safely.”

  “Awful nice of her to get up.” Gloria smiled in the darkness, relieved the nearly endless drive was over. “I feel bad we woke her.”

  “Not to worry—Mamma’s a light sleeper.”

  Gloria yawned as Brownie licked her hand.

  “Betcha never want to get back in that car again,” Leona said.

  Gloria stifled a laugh. “Yeah, and I shouldn’t have sat on these hard cement steps, either.” Giving Brownie another hug, she got up. “Your dog’s quite the welcoming committee.”

  “He was yours first.”

  “So we’ll share him while I’m here. How’s that?”

  Leona grinned. “I just knew he’d be happy to see ya.”

  I wonder if anyone else will be, thought Gloria as Brownie followed them inside to the kitchen.

  CHAPTER

  27

  Once in the spare room, Gloria texted her mom by lantern light to let her know they’d arrived. She’ll see this when she wakes.

  Knowing she would sleep better if she showered, Gloria hurried downstairs in her robe to what she recalled was the only bathroom in the house.

  Why am I so wound up? Then, remembering all the coffees and Cokes she’d sipped throughout the trip, she knew why.

  Gloria removed a towel from the beadboard cupboard in the bathroom, recalling that when Pete Speicher built the addition, her father had come over to help. Millie made sandwiches thick with meat, lettuce, and sliced American cheese, and Gloria managed to be polite and ate it, although she’d never cared much for beef tongue. “You’ll learn to like it,” Gloria’s mother had said, chiding her when she’d complained afterward.

  “I doubt it,” Gloria had whispered to Leona as they helped carry odds and ends of construction debris out to the trash behind the barn.

  Presently, Gloria set the small lantern in the corner of the bathroom. She started a bit at her reflection in the old medicine cabinet mirror, small though it was, and turned to get the water running in the tub, noticing the same rust stains where the faucet dripped. For a split second, she was eleven years old again and visiting Leona after school, though Leona had always preferred going to Gloria’s house.

  I must be really tired, she thought as she turned on the shower and stepped in.

  Suddenly, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to charge her phone tonight, not in a house without electricity. I guess I failed to take some things into consideration, she thought, surprised at herself.

  ———

  Snug in bed, and before she let herself fall asleep, Leona thanked the Lord God and heavenly Father for traveling mercies . . . and for giving her and Gloria ample opportunity to talk heart-to-heart. Stretching out across the mattress, she could smell the appealing scent of fresh air and sunshine on the sheets.

  I’m home. . . .

  When Leona fell into a deep sleep, she dreamed that Gloria Gingerich was the
new neighbor girl just over the creek and up the hill. . . .

  ———

  After a quick shower, Gloria dried off and slipped into her bold cheetah-print pajamas—a far cry from what she’d always worn as a Plain girl.

  Spotting her phone, she decided the best way to recharge it was to do so in the car, which could wait until tomorrow. If she needed Wi-Fi, there was always the option of going into town to the nearby coffee shop where she and Orchard John had sometimes gone to talk for hours at a time.

  As Gloria tiptoed back upstairs, a promising idea came to her. Why couldn’t she simply go unplugged? Can I do it? she wondered, toying with the notion, and slipped under the sheets, then checked her phone once again. Darren had left several texts, but she was too tired to read them. She did take a moment to let him know she was safe and sound in Amish country, however, momentarily thinking that he might say she was anything but.

  Gloria awakened just before five-thirty, feeling surprisingly renewed despite sleeping only a few hours. She got out of bed, put on her navy blue sweats and tennis shoes, quickly brushed her hair, and then made her way downstairs. The house was still at rest as she headed out to the porch, where she saw Brownie’s leash hanging from a wall peg.

  “Guder Mariye, Brownie,” she said as the dog came toward her, tail wagging. “Let’s go for a walk, okay?”

  At his hopeful expression, she leaned down to attach the leash to his collar and led him out the back door, then down toward the familiar road. The morning was fresh and brand-new in the gray light before sunrise, and Gloria’s cares began to slide off her shoulders.

  “The perfect weather for Weschdaag,” she murmured, deciding she would return after a morning jog to help Leona and her mother with the Monday washing. “Maybe I’ll cook breakfast, too, if they’ll let me.” She remembered how Leona had tried repeatedly to help in the kitchen during her short visit.

  It might not have been the wisest idea to go for a jog on so little sleep, yet she followed the road, moving slowly at first to stretch her muscles, still stiff from yesterday, Brownie at her side. The road turned north and crossed the rippling stream, and then the hill where, as a girl, she’d ridden her scooter or pulled her younger brothers in the wagon. Soon, the stately redbrick house came into dim view.

  Slowing but not stopping altogether, lest she be seen as a stalker in sweats, Gloria glanced at the front yard as she neared, taking in the pretty white porch and the long lane to the north. Things looked nearly the same. Even the rope swing still hung from the giant oak in the side yard over near the potting shed.

  Where you could swing so high you might fly . . .

  How she yearned to stroll down the driveway lined with pink-and-white flowering dogwoods to the back of the house, knock on the door, and tell the residents she had absolutely loved living there. Did the new family have any idea what a wonderful house it was? Sometimes in the wee hours, the wind in the eaves had sounded like angels whispering. In the winter, the crackling of the front room’s fireplace had given her the feeling of safety, as well.

  Do Amish live here?

  She picked up her pace again but craned her neck to look back at the barn and outbuildings. There was no sign of a carriage.

  The sky was growing lighter, so she could see that the washing was not yet out on the pulley clothesline. “Still early,” she whispered.

  Leona would surely know who lived there, Gloria assumed, slowing again for Brownie, whose nose was propelling him into the grassy roadside as he followed the trail of some scent. She laughed at the sight of him on such an adventure.

  She noticed the old stone wall that edged the pasture, the same grazing land that had offered nourishment to her father’s mules and other livestock, and felt a certain longing. Unable to resist, she sat on the wall and found that it was still cool to the touch. Fortunately, the sun’s rays began to warm her back as Brownie sat in the grass at her feet, panting hard, not having captured his earlier prey.

  What was it about childhood memories? Were they sweeter because they were distant, hazy images? Ones without the stain of disappointment?

  Gloria wanted to just sit there in this lovely spot where she used to wait for Orchard John to pick her up in his courting buggy. If I’d stayed against my father’s will, I could be married to Leona’s cousin by now. . . .

  Recalling leisurely long walks with her Amish beau, and the work frolics they’d happily attended, she also recalled going with Orchard John when he went to help build a pig barn for his older brother. Only a few other girls were present that day, mostly there to bring food hampers to share with the young fellows.

  Why did my father choose to take our whole family away from the life we’d built here? she mused.

  Other questions flitted through her mind, but Gloria would not let herself get bogged down during what was supposed to be a time to get her thoughts straight. She needed this respite from the busy world she was now a part of.

  Two Amish teenagers—the bishop’s granddaughters, Mary Sue and Sarah Ann Mast—came walking, carrying large wicker baskets, looking toward her at first, then glancing away quickly, talking in Deitsch.

  Mary Sue said, “Would be nice to dress so relaxed like that sometimes, ain’t?”

  Thank goodness she doesn’t recognize me, thought Gloria.

  “I’d choose something brighter than dark blue, though,” Sarah Ann said, tittering at her sister’s remark.

  Gloria squelched a laugh, knowing they didn’t realize she understood what was being said.

  Then, looking down at herself, she knew she must get back to Leona’s house before her friend’s parents saw her dressed so casually. I’ll do my best to fit in . . . wear the long skirts I packed.

  Three teams of horses and carriages were coming up the road, the second buggy a buckboard with two young men riding atop. She turned away so as not to be recognized.

  ———

  The morning was dewy yet bright, and Tom and Danny had set out with Tom’s mare and their father’s spring wagon right after sunrise, wanting to get a head start on a few errands before either of them went to work. Tom hoped Leona had gotten home all right, though he guessed her and Gloria’s arrival was quite late, probably well after midnight.

  How did Pete and Millie feel about hosting Gloria Gingerich now that she was no longer Amish?

  Not far ahead, he spotted a young English woman in dark running pants and tennis shoes sitting on the stone wall with Leona’s dog, Brownie. He did a double take.

  He turned to Danny. “Say, did ya see that young woman?” he asked, and Danny quickly signed that he, too, thought she looked familiar.

  “It might’ve been Gloria Gingerich,” Tom said.

  Red hair, Danny replied.

  Danny has a good eye, thought Tom with a smile.

  Whoever it is looks out of place here, Danny added.

  They talked further, wondering who else would have Brownie out on a leash if it wasn’t Gloria. But why on earth would she be out so early if she and Leona had arrived in the wee hours?

  It was a puzzle to Tom, but he’d already made up his mind to keep out of Leona’s way during Gloria’s surprise visit.

  How long will she stay?

  CHAPTER

  28

  Gloria continued to jog in the direction away from Leona’s house, now thinking it was still early enough to extend her run before she returned. She passed three more large farms, then spotted a lone windmill amidst a vast pasture—Deacon Ebersol’s. Brownie had slowed his pace significantly—it was probably more of a trip than he was used to. She winced and stopped in her tracks in front of the beautifully kept lawn. A wave of emotion overtook her, and she thought she might cry.

  I wish my father would do something about his outstanding debt. . . . If I could go back and change the past, I would.

  But she couldn’t fix it. And thinking about it now made her feel vulnerable. How can anyone here be glad to see me? It was almost as if Gloria owed the money hersel
f.

  It was my father, she thought. My family. She remembered what a kindly man the deacon had always been.

  College classes could wait, Gloria thought. What if I—

  Gloria abruptly shelved the idea and forced herself to think instead of the special breakfast she would make for Leona and her parents, and Leona’s Dawdi Benuel, too, if he joined them. She hoped to visit with the older man, dear soul. Being around him as a teenager had often made her wish her own grandfathers were alive. Her only living grandmother resided in a senior residence for Englishers in upstate New York—not her first choice, from what Gloria understood. Grandmother had moved to be closer to Gloria’s mother’s oldest brother, who’d relocated to the Finger Lakes area to acquire a larger spread of farmland.

  Sighing now, Gloria felt bad that she’d never gotten to know her mother’s mother. It dawned on her that she might write her grandmother a letter while she was here visiting.

  A buggy rumbled in the near distance. Coming this way were two young men, and a shiver ran down her back. Can it be?

  Her heart beat a little faster, and she pulled her shoulder-length hair across one side of her face to shield it. She wished for the first time since she’d arrived that she still owned her large black outer bonnet, long since discarded. Anything to conceal my face.

  But thinking the better of it, she looked up and smiled back as the young men waved in unison. For goodness’ sake, she was staring into the face of the most wonderful fellow she’d ever known: Orchard John.

  Recalling their year of courtship brought back a rush of feelings, and she was thankful he and his cousin kept going, scarcely giving her a glance.

  No beard? But surely he’s married . . .

  Feeling off-kilter now, Gloria tried to pull herself together. It would never do to become so emotional about someone who’d probably forgotten her three years ago. Besides, Darren awaited her back in Hill View.

  Tired but grateful to be home, Leona dragged herself out of bed, showered, and dressed. On her way back through the kitchen, she spotted Gloria’s note—Out for a quick jog!

 

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