The Wish

by Beverly Lewis

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She reached for her cup, glad for the comfort of something to hold.

  “I’d rather not embarrass ya, Gloria, but I’d like to ask ya something.”

  “You were never shy.” She smiled.

  “One night before you and your family moved away, I tossed some stones at your window. . . . Were you in your room?”

  She looked at him, stunned that he was bringing this up. “Yes . . . I heard them.” Drawing a long breath, she continued, “But my father wanted me to date other fellows before settling down with a serious beau. It had only been a year since I’d started going to Singing and other youth gatherings, remember?”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I only asked because I wanted to know if it was your choice . . . or someone else’s.”

  It wasn’t necessary to go a step further and say how distressed she’d felt. Pointless now. “I simply could not disobey my father . . . you understand.”

  “And he was right: You hadn’t had much chance to get to know other young men.” Orchard John kept his attention on her as she sipped more of her latte. “What about now, Gloria . . . are ya seein’ someone?”

  She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask. “Actually, I’m here to sort things out with my boyfriend. Well, not with him, but about him. And there are some other things to mull over, too.”

  “I see.” His eyes squinted in confusion. “Do yous have much in common, then? Has he always been an Englischer?”

  Her thoughts right now were beyond her ability to verbalize. Besides, John’s questions were tying her stomach in knots.

  “I’m sorry, but what if we talked about you instead—your work, your family and friends?” she suggested.

  John didn’t seem to mind switching topics and told her about his day tending to hundreds of apple and peach trees with his father and other workers. He also mentioned that his sister Naomi had left a message on their father’s barn phone to say that Gloria had stopped by the fabric and notions shop where she worked. “Daed heard the voicemail first and wanted me to listen. Guess he doubted I’d believe him if I didn’t hear it myself.”

  Gloria was embarrassed they had made such a big deal of it. “It was real nice seein’ your sister again, even so briefly.” Then she mentioned she ought to head back to Leona’s. “She’ll be waiting for me, no doubt.”

  “It was great to see you again, Gloria.” John walked her out to the car.

  “You too . . . and thanks for the delicious treat.” She opened her car door and got in as he walked to his father’s old horse cart and untied the mare from the hitching post.

  What a great guy, she thought wistfully. Hopefully, he’ll find someone special and move on with his life.

  CHAPTER

  34

  Deacon Ebersol sat at the head of the table, his palms flat against the green-checkered oilcloth. His plump wife, Sallie, sat at the far end reading Echoes of the Past, a genealogy book. He reiterated what Leona had told him. “You say Gloria Gingerich is struggling with some life choices?”

  “Jah, and I’m not sure how to help her.” Leona paused to be respectful.

  The deacon nodded, his graying eyebrows furrowed. “Well, your friend has nearly reached the end of what’s considered her youth. It’s high time for her to either be solidly in or out of the church.”

  Agreeing, Leona said, “I worry she’s already chosen for the world by goin’ along with her family, but there are moments she seems betwixt and between.” She sighed, hoping she was doing the right thing by sharing this way. “That’s why I invited Gloria to come home with me. I do hope it’s all right for Gloria to stay awhile with us.”

  “I understand from Tom that your goal is to win her back permanently,” the deacon said.

  She nodded. “I hope she’ll find what her heart is longing for right here in Colerain, amongst the People.”

  Deacon Ebersol nodded slowly. “With the Lord’s help, perhaps you’ll help win her through your meek and gentle spirit.”

  “That’s my earnest prayer.”

  “Then that’s mine, too, Leona.” He gave her a gentle smile.

  She thanked him for making time for her and said good-bye to Sallie when Tom’s mother glanced over her bifocals. The deacon kindly walked Leona to the back porch, where she saw Tom sitting beside a lit lantern.

  “Looks like someone wants to see ya home,” Deacon said, his eyebrow quirking up as he bid her good-night.

  Leona smiled, glad for the surprise of seeing Tom, who rose and walked down the steps with her under a brilliant moon. He reached for her hand. “Feel more settled now?” he asked, the lantern’s glow leading the way along with the moon’s light as he took her the long way home through the field.

  “The Lord God surely chose a patient man to be deacon of our flock.”

  “He did indeed.”

  They walked slowly, her hand still clasped in his. “I missed ya while you were gone, Leona.” He squeezed her hand gently.

  She embraced his thoughtfulness. “It seemed like a long time away. I hope you received my message from Maggie.”

  “Was mighty glad for it.” He looked down at her. “Did you have yourself a gut time out there?”

  She told him how very tiring the trips to and from Arkansas had been. “But I believe it was the right thing for me to go.” She tried to describe the interesting sights she’d enjoyed with Gloria—the sprawling farmland, the rolling hills all around, and the quaint downtown. “There was a perty tearoom, too.”

  “Are any of her family showing signs of leaning toward the People again?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I can tell,” she said. “Gloria planned to do baptismal instruction with the Hill View deacon, but they left the Amish before she could take more than a few classes. I know that baptism is a sacred act a person must accept without any persuasion. But I have faith that God’s at work in Gloria’s heart.”

  “So we’ll both keep praying to that end.” Tom slipped his arm around her.

  “I just hope Orchard John is cautious,” she said. “He’s havin’ coffee with Gloria this evening.”

  Tom fell silent for a moment. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since he’s pined for her since the day she left.”

  She turned to look at Tom. “You know this for sure?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? John puts up a gut appearance by spending time with die Youngie. But if you’ve noticed, he rarely pairs up with anyone.”

  “I can’t imagine my cousin going against the ordinance if Gloria doesn’t budge and come back to the church.” Leona stared up at the star-filled sky and drank in the beauty of the evening. “But love sometimes makes people do peculiar things.”

  “Nee, you have nothing to worry ’bout there. Trust me. John’s a dedicated church member.”

  “I do trust ya,” she whispered, and he drew her closer, their strides in unison.

  He slowed the pace. “That evening in the clearing, before you left for Arkansas—”

  “When it rained on us?” She turned again and patted his arm. “I want to say something about that.”

  “Jah?”

  She breathed deeply. “I should’ve been more sensitive to your worries . . . ya know, before I left to visit Gloria.”

  Tom shrugged it off. “I wasn’t that worried, not about you.”

  “I mean . . . about Adam.”

  He paused. “I was more concerned ’bout Arkansas Joe . . . well, you know I don’t trust the man. I wasn’t sure how it would be for you, staying with his family out there.”

  They stopped walking altogether. “I used to wonder why God brought Gloria into my life, only to let her go,” Leona confessed. “And I regretted her leaving. On one count, though, I’m actually very glad the Gingerich family left.”

  Tom looked confused. “Really?”

  “Jah, ’cause you and I had a better chance with Adam gone.”

  Tom seemed intent on her every word.

  “I’m bles
sed that the Lord planned for us to be together.”

  Tom put a finger to her lips. “Ach, I love you, Leona.”

  She smiled. “Just wanted you to know.”

  They turned and walked silently for a while. Finally, Leona spoke again. “I interrupted you, Tom. You were goin’ to say something.”

  Tom cleared his throat. “Jah, that evening in the clearing . . . I’d planned to show you the gift of land my father’s offered. It’s at the far end of his cornfield, with a view of your Dat’s woods and, in the other direction, the neighbor’s meadow. There’s plenty of room to build a house there and a nice-sized farm.”

  “Oh, and I spoiled your plans with my fussin’ over goin’ to Arkansas!”

  “That’s all behind us now.” He stopped walking and faced her. “I’ll take ya to see the land when you’re able to get away. We can pace off the perimeter, picture our home there.”

  Leona sighed with happiness. To think, she’d have a brand-new house to live in with her husband and their little ones to come! Not many young brides had such a luxury. “I can hardly wait to see it, Tom. How kind of your father.”

  “He’s awful fond of you, Leona. You must surely know.” Tom went on to talk about the blueprint he was having drawn up. “I’d like you to look it over soon.”

  “I doubt I’m the best person for that, but I do have an opinion on how big our kitchen should be.” She laughed softly, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  “And our bedroom, too,” he said as they turned and continued walking. “Space for all the little ones in cradles . . . someday.”

  She smiled. “One wee babe at a time, jah?”

  Tom chuckled, and she had never felt more at home with her truly wonderful husband-to-be.

  Even with all the kitchen windows wide open, the house was warm and quiet when Gloria returned. Millie was sitting at the table writing a letter, or so it appeared.

  Gloria took a spot across from her. “Is Leona around?”

  “She went to see Deacon Ebersol when you left.” Millie glanced at the wall clock. “Might’ve stayed to visit with Tom and the rest of the family.”

  Noticing Millie’s stationery, it crossed Gloria’s mind that now might be a good time to write a letter to her grandmother in upstate New York. “Would you happen to have some writing paper to spare? Nothing fancy.”

  “Here, use this,” Millie said, offering some with hummingbirds and flowers along the bottom. “How many sheets do ya need?”

  “Two is fine, thanks.”

  Millie reached into her stationery box and removed the pages.

  “I’ll wait up for Leona,” Gloria said, then rose and headed for the stairs.

  Evidently, both of us need to speak to the deacon. . . .

  Going to the spare room, Gloria was glad for some time to reflect. Back when her mother was Amish, she would encourage their family to evaluate the day prior to going to sleep at night. It was one of Gloria’s more pleasant memories of growing up. So she took the time now to consider her rather awkward meeting with Orchard John. Seeing him after such a long time had touched a nerve, though she had tried not to let on.

  As had always been her habit before turning fancy, she went to each window and pulled down its dark green shade, then turned on the gas lamp beside the bed. Quickly, she undressed and put on her bathrobe and got cozy for a while before her shower.

  She spotted the King James Bible on the dresser and recalled what Benuel had said. “Gott calls us one by one. . . .”

  “Individually,” she whispered. Community is everything for the Amish, so why did Benuel say it that way?

  She picked up the Bible and opened to Second Corinthians, searching for the verse about being separate from the world. It took a moment to locate it in chapter six, verse seventeen, and she read it twice, realizing this was a command from the Lord himself.

  Must a person be Plain in order to live set apart? she wondered.

  Something in her recoiled, like a punch to her stomach. She thought of praying but was too restless.

  Obviously, the latte she’d enjoyed had boosted her energy. She got up and went to the dresser, where she looked into the narrow mirror.

  I need to talk to Leona. She thought of Naomi Speicher’s suggestion to stay around for Preaching this Sunday. Millie’s response had been so favorable.

  What if I did stay longer?

  CHAPTER

  35

  Nearing her father’s house, Leona gasped—the light was still on in the spare room, lantern light visible around the edges of the window shades.

  “Are you all right?” Tom asked.

  “Gloria’s still up. Should I tell her where I’ve been?”

  “Tell her the truth. Gloria’s gotta know how unusual it is for someone like her to come back to visit her former church district.”

  “You’re right,” Leona agreed. “I just hoped she might be asleep by now.”

  “Are ya worried your talk with my father might throw a wrench in your plans?”

  “Hard to know. She might think I overstepped.”

  Tom stopped walking again. “I hope you’re not tiptoeing on eggshells, nervous that something you say will offend her. Convincing her to return to the Amish ways is ultimately a job for the Lord alone.”

  She grimaced. “I know you’re right.”

  “You’re trying very hard to help Gott out . . . maybe too hard.”

  Lowering her head, she sighed. “I understand what you’re sayin’.” Tom knows me so well.

  “Sleep peacefully.” He took both her hands in his. “And no frettin’, jah?”

  She promised, glad he’d been honest with her.

  Tom walked her to the back steps and waited till she was in the house. When she turned, she saw him headed back across the field, his straw hat glinting like a halo in the light of the moon.

  ———

  Tom counted his blessings as he walked home, Leona amongst the most treasured. Had he ever felt life was going along this well? Truly, he was mighty thankful.

  The thought, however, of his best friend having coffee with Gloria Gingerich disturbed him more than he’d let on to Leona. He sincerely felt sorry for Orchard John, who’d never been able to get Gloria out of his mind . . . or heart. But if Gloria had no intention of joining their church, John could be setting himself up for further heartache.

  Or unnecessary temptation.

  It was odd, really, how closely linked the four of them were—as cousins and friends. And would-be sweethearts.

  He contemplated John’s enduring affection for Gloria, and Leona’s for Gloria. Both Leona and her cousin cared deeply about Gloria, and it was a concern.

  What happens when she returns home? Tom thought.

  Yet, looking up at the heavens, he scolded himself. With God, all things are possible.

  Gloria was sleeping soundly when Leona peeked in on her, a couple of pages of Mamma’s best stationery and a pen beside her on the quilt. She reached down to remove the ballpoint pen and placed it on the dresser, then outened the lantern, which had spread its cheerful glow. She hoped Gloria might have a peaceful rest, although she couldn’t help wondering how things had gone with Orchard John.

  Closing the door, except for a crack, Leona wandered to her own room, feeling very much like her friend’s guardian.

  She opened the middle dresser drawer and removed a clean nightgown. It was soft pink in color and had two tiny decorative buttons at the neck opening—her one and only slightly fancy nightdress.

  Leona pulled back the sheet and quilt and then put out the gas lamp Mamma had surely lit for her. She knelt beside her bed, her particular habit, and folded her hands to offer the request she’d made a hundred times or more. Yet she believed that the Lord God and heavenly Father knew Gloria’s heart—saw her worries and fears—and cared for her enough to want to see her where she belonged. For this night, that was enough to bring Leona serenity.

  Around midnight, Gloria’s phone dinged loudly
, signaling a text. Squinting at it—having abandoned her earlier plan to go unplugged—she read her father’s text. When are you heading back?

  Dad, she typed back, I just got here.

  Leona’s home now, so why are you still there?

  She suspected she shouldn’t tell him all that was really on her mind.

  Her father texted back before she did: Don’t ruin your chance with Darren!

  Was that all this was about? That’s MY concern. Good night, Dad.

  Her father’s texts ceased, and she felt a sense of relief, unable to handle more of the same.

  Then, just as she was about to click off, another text appeared. I fear you’re being brainwashed.

  It was futile to try to make her point any longer. Gloria deleted the text thread, turned off her phone, and stuffed it under the pillow next to her.

  Then, in the darkened room, she realized someone had turned off the lantern after she’d fallen asleep.

  Dear, thoughtful Leona.

  Early the next morning, after Leona and Gloria had helped clean the house, Gloria offered to work with her to make another wreath or two for market.

  “You’ve already done enough,” Leona insisted while they beat throw rugs in the side yard with brooms, lapping them over the clothesline to make the task easier.

  “I want to pull my weight.”

  “But you didn’t come here to work, jah?” Leona said, reminding her that she’d planned to take time to walk in the countryside and to pray about her future with Darren.

  “True, and I will do that.” Gloria nodded. “I also wrote a long letter to my grandmother last night while you were gone.”

  Leona was surprised.

  “I just figured it’s time she heard from me, so we can get to know each other before she passes away—not that it will be anytime soon.”

  She’s really changing . . . connecting with people again, Leona thought as Gloria described what she remembered of her grandmother. It was clear that writing to her grandmother had revealed things about Gloria’s struggles and priorities.