The Wish

by Beverly Lewis

  The thought of Gloria having a chance to clear her mind and gain some perspective on her situation with Darren made Leona smile. She might miss out on Bible reading and prayer this morning, though, she thought, going back up the stairs to her room. Her mother was stirring, and Leona wanted to gather up the laundry and take it down cellar to start the first load.

  Once the clothes were soaking in the wringer washer, she stepped out to the screened-in porch and saw that Brownie and his leash were gone. She laughed, guessing Gloria had taken him along.

  She walked out to the end of the lane to pick up the morning paper for Dat to read, once he came in from the barn. The scent of lilacs caught her attention, and she raised her face to the breeze. Redbud trees and azaleas were also in bloom, and she was so glad that Gloria had come home with her and would be able to enjoy the season’s spectacular beauty. Let springtime and renewal be birthed in her heart, O Lord, as Thy grace beckons her back to where she belongs, she prayed.

  Picking up the newspaper, she heard yipping and looked up to see Gloria and Brownie walking along the roadside, Brownie poking along. She hurried to meet them. “Goodness, you must’ve gotten up at daybreak.”

  “I did. And while I was over near my former house, I saw two of the bishop’s granddaughters out walking.”

  Naturally, Gloria headed over that way. “Did they stop and talk to you?”

  “I’m sure they had no idea who I was.” Gloria smiled and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Aw . . . ya don’t look that much different.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not Plain.” Gloria chuckled.

  “Did ya notice any changes to your old house?” Leona was curious what Gloria thought of the place now.

  Gloria fell into step with her. “Things looked quite similar, but it was clear enough it’s someone else’s home. Time doesn’t stand still for anyone or anything, does it?” Gloria pulled her hair back and removed a hair band from her wrist to secure it into a ponytail. “Which reminds me, who’s living there now?”

  “Jacob and Ada Miller. They’ve been there for a year and a half. The landlord your father rented from passed away, and nearly the minute it went on the market, several farmers were vying for it.”

  “Not surprising. It’s a fine house.” Gloria walked with Leona down the drive. “I wonder if they’d let me have a peek inside.”

  “I don’t see why not. I can go with ya to ask.”

  “Oh, would you?”

  “Sure. And you must remember Ada Miller, sweet as a jar of honey. Her oldest daughter, Rebekah, was our schoolteacher when you and your family first arrived here.”

  “Is that right?” Gloria seemed ever so pleased. “She got engaged the year I was in eighth grade.”

  “Jah, and has look-alike twin boys now.”

  “Jacob Miller is a cousin to Preacher Miller, if I recall correctly.”

  “Jacob and the preacher are as close as brothers.” Leona laughed as she glanced down at Brownie, who was panting loudly. “Our dog isn’t used to bein’ walked too far, as you prob’ly found out. He romps about the fields on his own, but mostly he likes to lie around.”

  “He’s getting old. Time to spoil him rotten.”

  They headed around to the back of the house, where rows of red and white tulips grew on either side of the sidewalk. “Let’s go an’ see your old house tomorrow, once I have the ironing done and before I head to Maggie’s shop to work. All right? Unless you have other plans.”

  Gloria followed her inside and washed her hands at the deep sink in the utility room. “Not for tomorrow, but I do have plans for this morning, as soon as I wash up and change into a skirt,” she said. “I’d like to make omelets for you and your parents . . . and your grandfather, too, if that’s okay.”

  “Oh, I doubt Mamma wants you cookin’ for us when you’re on vacation.”

  “Well, doesn’t that sound familiar?” Gloria rolled her eyes.

  They had a laugh about that, then Gloria scurried upstairs to change.

  Leona was secretly relieved that Gloria wouldn’t be parading around in sweats. No need getting things off to a rough start.

  ———

  A few minutes after Gloria returned in her floral skirt in delicate muted tones and a modest white top, Mamma came into the kitchen. “Willkumm, Gloria. But what’re you doin’ in one of my work aprons?”

  “Cooking’s the least I can do to thank you and Pete for letting me stay,” Gloria replied with a smile. “Won’t you let me make breakfast for all of us? It’s my own recipe.”

  Leona stood back, wondering what Mamma might say about Gloria’s taking over her kitchen.

  “Your recipe?” Mamma blinked rapidly.

  Gloria pleaded further, and Mamma reluctantly gave in. “Just this once, then,” she said.

  “Not sure I can promise that,” Gloria teased. “What if I end up staying longer than a few days?”

  Leona’s heart leaped up. “You mean ya might?”

  “Wanted to see if you’re wide-awake.” Gloria winked.

  Leona groaned. “Oh, you!”

  Grinning, Gloria listed off the ingredients she needed, and Leona was surprised that Mamma went immediately to the refrigerator.

  While Gloria oiled the black skillet, Leona wiped off the table and then set it. “Do you need help with bacon or toast or anything else?” she asked.

  “Toast, sure.”

  “No bacon or sausage?”

  “Why not let Dawdi Benuel choose?” Gloria suggested. “I’d love to see him here for breakfast, too.”

  “You’ll see him, but he’s really not one to come over so early. He prefers his bowl of cold cereal and toast and coffee, which he makes for himself.”

  Mamma spoke up. “S’pose if he knows Gloria’s here, he’ll make the effort.”

  Leona was pleased at how hospitable Mamma was this morning; she hadn’t expected Gloria would find such a genuine welcome.

  “By the way, I sold all but two of your wreaths while you were gone, Leona,” Mamma said. “You’ll need to make more soon.”

  “Maybe Gloria will help me,” Leona suggested.

  “Sure,” Gloria said. “What else can I do while I’m here?”

  “Well, the fence needs to be painted.” Leona laughed.

  “Oh now!” Mamma said. “We wouldn’t think of putting our guest to work.”

  “I don’t mind. Whatever needs to be done.” Gloria began preparing the ingredients, telling Mamma about the big cities she and Leona had traveled through, including Memphis and Nashville. “And goodness, we did our share of literally running around at rest stops to get some exercise. All the coffee we drank meant we had more pit stops than we planned.”

  Mamma tilted her head. “Pit stops?”

  Gloria had a time explaining where the expression came from, but eventually Mamma seemed to understand.

  “Sounds like quite a trip. But we’re glad you’re here,” Mamma said, nodding. “Thank the Good Lord.”

  ———

  When Dat came in from the barn, he brought Dawdi Benuel with him. “Someone was itchin’ to say hullo to Gloria,” he said after he, too, had greeted Gloria, who stood next to the gas stove. “How do ya like our springtime weather?”

  “It’s nearly as warm as it was back home last week,” Gloria replied. “It’s a beautiful day to be outside.”

  “That’s the honest truth,” Dat said. “Willkumm to our home.” He removed his straw hat and headed to wash up.

  Dawdi Benuel took up the conversation. “My, my, if it isn’t little Gloria, all grown up,” he said, hobbling over to extend his wrinkled hand.

  “I was hoping you’d join us for breakfast,” Gloria said, accepting Dawdi’s handshake. “I think you’ll like the loaded omelets I’m making. That’s what my mom calls them.”

  Dawdi chuckled. “Sounds like a rare treat.”

  “I’m glad you came over.” Gloria turned back to the stove and flipped over the first
one after filling it with mushrooms, salsa, black olives, and onions. “Now, if you don’t care much for my concoction, I’ll make you some scrambled or fried eggs instead, okay?”

  Dawdi firmly shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of deprivin’ myself. Smells delicious!”

  Leona helped him to his seat at the table while Gloria beamed as she used the spatula to lift the first omelet out of the skillet and into a warming pan.

  “Be sure an’ go out and have a look at our day-old calf while you’re here,” Dat told Gloria when he returned to sit at the head of the table.

  “We will go once we get the first washing out on the line,” Leona promised, glad her parents were bending over backward for Gloria.

  Like Joe and Jeannie always did for me. . . .

  CHAPTER

  29

  Leona was tickled to have Gloria help pin the clothes on the line while Mamma took her time redding up the kitchen indoors. “My family really enjoyed your omelets,” she told her friend. “You’re spoilin’ us.”

  “I loved cooking on your mother’s gas range,” Gloria replied. “And your Dawdi was so cute, going on and on about how appeditlich the omelets were.”

  “Well, they were tasty.”

  Gloria removed a clothespin from between her lips and used it to pin the shoulder of one of Dat’s shirts. “He was always more talkative than your parents.”

  Leona grimaced. “And a gut listener, too.”

  “Not so easy to find,” Gloria said, leaning down for the next item in the laundry basket.

  “You were always the best listener,” Leona added. “Honestly.”

  Gloria made a face. “Before I, well . . . disappeared.”

  “We’re past that, ain’t?”

  “Jah . . . and at least you had someone to talk to.”

  Leona smiled at Gloria’s use of jah. “Maggie’s probably been the person I turn to the most, but there have been a few times when Dawdi pestered me till I opened up. Guess he could tell something was up from my long face.”

  Gloria laughed.

  “Sure ain’t the same as sharin’ with you, though.” Leona wanted her to know that no one had replaced her friendship, not even Tom. “But then, no two friendships are alike. Tom’s somebody else I can share with . . . it’s a blessing to have a fiancé who cares so much.” She gave Gloria a sideways glance. “Do you feel that way about Darren, too?”

  Gloria was solemn as she answered. “Darren’s a good guy, but I wouldn’t say we’ve built that kind of friendship yet. And he’s awfully perplexed now.” She explained that she intended to check her phone one last time today, then try to go unplugged for the duration of her stay.

  This startled Leona. “Really?”

  “I just want to be here and not so there, and if I’m on my phone, that won’t be the case. It’s just for a little while.”

  “Well, maybe you should tell Darren and your parents first, so they don’t worry.”

  “You’re right.” Gloria reached down for another shirt from the laundry basket. “You think of others first, Leona. I love that about you.”

  Leona felt her face turn red as she kept working, hanging up her and Mamma’s clothes while Gloria pinned Dat’s shirts and britches on the line. The next batch of washing—Dawdi Benuel’s things—would be ready to hang out soon.

  “Thanks for helpin’ with the laundry,” Leona said, changing the subject. “You really didn’t have to.”

  “I need to keep busy.” Gloria’s voice wavered.

  “You all right?”

  She nodded without speaking.

  “This chore must seem time-consuming to you now,” Leona observed.

  “An automatic washer does make everything easier. Put the detergent in, pile in the clothes, leave the room, and it still gets done. Real convenient.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been ruined,” she joked.

  “It’s hard to turn up your nose at modern conveniences. There are so many advantages. Surely you noticed that when you visited.” Gloria finished hanging up her basketful and came to help Leona with the rest of hers.

  “Enough advantages, as ya say, to turn away from Plain living for good?”

  “Of course,” Gloria said, her tone enthusiastic. Yet Leona noticed that not a speck of that confidence registered on her freckled face.

  While sitting at a table outside a fast-food place, about to wolf down a cheeseburger, Tom spotted Orchard John.

  Does he know Gloria’s visiting? Tom squeezed a plastic pouch of ketchup onto his burger, then did the same with two packets of mustard.

  John reappeared in a few minutes, carrying a sack and a large fountain drink.

  Tom waved him over. “Busy mornin’?”

  “Typical Monday.” Orchard John took a seat across from him and bowed his head before he dug into his grilled-chicken sandwich and fries.

  “Looks like you didn’t have time to pack your lunch, either.” Tom grinned. “Gut excuse to grab a burger.”

  “Mamm offered to send some food along, but she’s got enough to do on Weschdaag.”

  Tom nodded. “Not sure what people did before fast food.”

  Orchard John agreed as he picked up several thick fries. “Did you take the usual way to work this mornin’?”

  “I did, why?”

  John shrugged and set his burger down to wipe his mouth with a paper napkin.

  Tom studied him. “Did ya maybe think you saw Gloria Gingerich sittin’ on the old stone wall?”

  “You saw her, too?” Orchard John asked, eyes popping.

  “She drove Leona back all the way from Arkansas.”

  “Why on earth?”

  Tom took a drink of his iced tea. “Don’t know much ’bout it, but Leona was out visitin’ her for a few days,” he told his friend, “and now all of a sudden, Gloria’s decided to come here.”

  John’s face lit up, and he looked like he might just take off flying. “Well, ain’t that the pig’s tail!”

  “Just a warning, John. She’s not Amish anymore.”

  John nodded. “Her hair was down when I spotted her, and it looked like she had on a running outfit.”

  “I’ll be interested to see if she comes to Preaching service with Leona . . . if she’s staying that long.”

  John seemed to be taking it all in. “’Tween you and me, I’d like to see her again, but . . .” His voice trailed off. “Not sure I oughta.”

  Because you’re baptized, Tom thought, certain they were thinking along the same lines. He didn’t know what else to say; it was obvious Orchard John had not forgotten the pretty auburn-haired girl.

  “Wouldn’t it be wunnerbaar if she’s comin’ back to the People?” Orchard John said, his voice lower.

  “I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

  “Jah,” Orchard John said. “But stranger things have happened.”

  “Maybe you and Leona can help the Lord along.” Tom instantly wished he could take back the words—he didn’t want to encourage his friend to spend much time with an attractive former Amishwoman. Like walking on thin ice . . .

  “Never told a soul, but I almost proposed to her before she left.”

  “Almost?”

  “Went to her house and everything . . . even tossed pebbles at her window.”

  “And she didn’t come to see?”

  Orchard John shook his head. “Her room was lit up behind the shade, too. Was so sure she was there.”

  “Are ya certain you got the right window?” Tom asked. “Plenty of fellas have gotten the wrong one.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it was Gloria’s.”

  Tom could see the frustration on John’s face. “There’s always a chance she might not have been in her room,” he reassured him. “How many stones did ya throw?”

  “I heard two hit the pane.”

  Tom considered that. “Maybe it’s for the best. After all, Arkansas Joe would be a challenging father-in-law. Mighty friendly, but in other ways . . .”

  “Like a st
ubborn child, jah?” John finished the sentence. “Digging in his heels.”

  Tom stifled the urge to say more. No one really knows what goes on in a household, he thought. Besides, Orchard John didn’t need to know everything about Gloria’s errant father.

  A moment of silence fell between them, and Orchard John looked to be lost in thought.

  Best to change the subject.

  After breakfast the next morning, Leona ironed pillowcases and her father’s for-good trousers while Gloria sat out in her car to charge up her phone yet again, even though she had sounded so sure yesterday about going unplugged.

  “She’s entangled in the fancy world,” Mamma said as she wiped down the kitchen appliances. “Once the fancy grabs ya, it seldom lets go.”

  “Sometimes it does,” Leona said, unwilling to give up hope so easily.

  “Jah, sometimes,” her mother said. “She seems awful ferhoodled, poor girl. Kinda doubt she knows her own mind.” Mamma reached for a towel to dry the front of the refrigerator.

  Mamma was right about that, but Leona didn’t want to reveal what Gloria had shared back in Arkansas. Nor did she want to talk about Darren Brockett. “S’pose Maggie’s ready to have me back at work this afternoon.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “When I’m done with ironing here and Gloria’s ready, we’re goin’ over to see the Millers.”

  Mamma’s eyes blinked.

  “Gloria wants to ask if they’ll let her look around inside her old home. Seems really bent on it.”

  “Well . . . how ’bout that.” Mamma went to the sink and rinsed her cleaning rag, then wrung it out tight.

  “I’ll wash the kitchen floor tomorrow mornin’,” Leona volunteered.

  “It’ll need it by then.”

  “By the way, did Deacon Ebersol ever say anything to you about my trip to Arkansas? I never got a chance to speak to him before I went. Tom planned to tell him ’bout it . . . I hope he did.”

  “Might be wise to seek out the deacon yourself,” Mamma advised. “’Specially now that Gloria’s stayin’ with us for a bit.”

  “I thought of that, too.”