Seth remained silent so she continued. “If you don’t want to tell the buwe yet, I understand and I’ll respect that. But since the rest of the community found out during church yesterday, eventually the boys will, too. We have to tell them something, otherwise they’ll be confused that I’m still here. And I don’t want Fannie’s explanations to take root in their minds.”
Seth noncommittally offered, “Maybe I’ll tell them tonight before putting them to bed.”
“Oh, okay.” Once again, Trina was disappointed by his reluctance, but she reminded herself she’d committed to showing him, however long it took, that she would honor her word.
The next day at five in the morning she woke to rapid knocking and she sat up straight, panicking. Had Martha’s headache worsened?
“What’s the matter?” she asked Seth at the door as the buwe cavorted behind him.
“Nothing. It’s time for milking. If you’re serious about living like the Amish, you need to learn how to milk a cow. No more milk from a plastic jug.”
Was he challenging her or trying to be helpful? Trina couldn’t decide, but either way, she was willing to learn. “Great. Maybe later in the week you’ll teach me to hitch the horse, too.”
Even in the dreary early morning light, Trina caught his sparkling smile. “You were going to take it slowly,” he reminded her. Then, as the boys ran to the stable ahead of them, Seth explained, “They were so excited to find out you’re staying here they woke up before I did.”
Seth must have told them the previous night! Trina was so delighted she nearly skipped to the barn like a child herself. After Seth gave her a preliminary demonstration of how to milk the cow, she returned home to make breakfast. While she was eating, Seth knocked on her door yet again, informing her Martha wouldn’t be coming that day. Her head still hurt.
Although she was disappointed, Trina decided to give her home a more thorough spring cleaning than she had before Dianne visited. Now that the house was hers, she realized she couldn’t keep Abe’s door shut forever. She’d probably want to host overnight guests eventually, so she stood in the doorway trying to decide how to brighten the room yet keep the furnishings modest and plain, in accordance with the Ordnung. That’s when she remembered she still hadn’t looked at the letters and photos in Abe’s nightstand, so she pulled open the drawer and removed the folder.
Sure enough, it contained a letter and photo for each year from the time Trina was born until she turned eighteen. She couldn’t bear to read the letters in which her mother asked Abe if she could return, but flipping through the photos was like seeing a movie of her life. In one picture, she was crawling. In another, she was smiling broadly, showing off the gap where her tooth had fallen out. There was a photo of her riding a bicycle and another one of her standing primly in a new dress beneath a blossoming dogwood tree at Easter time. Filled with a mix of nostalgia and loneliness for her mother, Trina slid the items back into the folder. Since photographs weren’t permitted, she’d have to get rid of them and rely on the images she knew by heart, instead.
Just then, something buzzed loudly in the room. At first she thought a fat housefly had gotten into the house, but then she realized it was her cell phone, still sitting on the windowsill. The last time she’d used it was to finalize a meeting time with Dianne—or was it when she entered Ethan’s phone number into it after finding the business card he’d left behind? In any case, she’d forgotten all about it. Making a mental note to cancel her service before discarding the phone, she briefly glanced at the screen and noted a text. It said:
It’s me, your father. I’m about to call you. Please pick up. It’s urgent.
She had just finished reading the text when the phone vibrated in her hand again. Fearful something was wrong, she felt compelled to answer her father’s call.
“It’s Trina,” she said into the receiving end of the phone.
“Hello, Trina. Thank you for answering. I’m here in town and I need to talk to you. Will you meet with me? I’ll pick you up and take you to lunch.”
Her father was in Willow Creek? Trina was silent, her mind reeling.
“Trina, please. You’re the only child I have. I don’t want anything to come between us. I know I haven’t been in touch, but I’d like to change that now.”
Trina thought of how her mother had never gotten to reconcile with Abe. She didn’t want that to happen with her father, too, especially since her mother had urged her not to turn him away if he wanted a relationship. Trina knew she had to listen to what her father had to say and to forgive him if he asked. She wanted to tell him about her choice to become Amish, too.
That’s when she had an idea; she’d give the photos to her father, since he’d missed seeing Trina during so many of the years her mother had caught on camera. He’d probably be as delighted to get them as Abe had been. Trina separated them from the letters and took the folder with her to her room, where she changed into a fresh top and skirt, and then went out onto the porch to wait for her father there.
To her surprise, not one but two cars were already parked in the lane by her house. Because it was drizzling, she slipped the folder inside her coat so it wouldn’t get wet and then sprang across the lawn and found both vehicles were empty. Twirling around to scan the yard, Trina spotted two men walking up from the creek. She didn’t know one of them, but the other one was definitely her father. Although Trina hadn’t seen him in years, she’d recognize him anywhere, even though he was balding now and had developed a bit of a paunch.
When he came near, he kissed her cheek and said, “You look exactly like your mother did at your age. Beautiful.” After a pause, he added, “I’m sorry she’s gone, Trina.”
He really did look sorry, too, and Trina felt a pang of guilt for being so resentful she couldn’t locate him in time for her mother’s funeral. She extended her hand to the short, dark-haired man accompanying her father and said, “I’m Trina.”
“Oh, sorry,” Richard apologized. “Trina, this is my business associate, Drex Watson—”
It suddenly dawned on Trina what her father and this man were doing down by the creek; they’d been scoping out the property. Drex was probably there to help persuade—no, to pressure—Trina to reconsider selling the land to her father. Trina’s temper flared and she didn’t give her father a chance to finish making introductions. “I’ve already told the realtor I have no intention of selling the property for development purposes. So there’s no need for you to accompany us, Mr. Watson.” She deliberately used a formal address to indicate they weren’t on friendly terms.
“Trina, wait. Just consider—” Drex began to protest, but Trina’s father interrupted him.
“It’s okay, Drex. My daughter wants to speak with me alone. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Drex’s eyes darted from Richard to Trina and then back to Richard before he shrugged and said, “Alright. Catch you later.”
After Drex drove away, Richard said, “Come on, Trina, it’s raining. Let’s go get some lunch in town, okay?”
Trina hesitated. On one hand, she wanted to hear him out. On the other hand, she didn’t want him pressuring her to change her mind about selling to him. She slowly walked to the car and accompanied him to Browns’ Diner. As they drove, Trina realized his vehicle was worth a fortune and she wondered if Kurt had been exaggerating how broke her father actually was.
At the diner Richard chose a booth by the front window and while they waited for their meals, Trina told him about her decision to become Amish. He looked surprised but didn’t say anything as she described the process she’d undergo before being baptized into the church.
When she was done speaking, her father said, “So, while you’re going through this—what did you call it, convincement process?—you’ll live with your mentor?”
Trina cocked her head. “No. I’ll live in my own house. Why?”
Her father’s cheeks broke out in ruddy patches. “I just wondered, that’s all.”
“Dad,” Trina said firmly, although the term felt strange to her ears, “I’m not going to sell the house. To anyone.”
“I understand,” he said, but his mouth sagged. Trina waited for him to change the subject—specifically, to talk about his desire to reconcile with her, but he stayed silent until the server brought them their meals. By that time, Trina had realized he never truly intended to come back into her life, except to purchase her house. She poked at her fries but didn’t take a bite since she wouldn’t have been able to swallow.
After her father paid the check, Trina summoned the last of her grace and reached over to clasp his hand. “Dad, even though I’m becoming Amish, I’ll always welcome you into my home as a guest,” she said. “And I’ll always welcome you into my life as my father.”
He glanced up. Green eyes. Is that all we have in common? Trina wondered as she waited for him to speak, but he didn’t say a word. Then the server returned with his change and her father pulled his hand out from under Trina’s to pocket the bills.
Trina decided she’d walk home and her father didn’t object even though it was raining harder now. Before she stood to leave she remembered the folder of photos and she pushed it across the table toward him. “I want you to have these memories from my childhood. Even though it was difficult sometimes and I wished you were with us, Mom and I were happy together.” Rising, she leaned over the table to kiss his head before saying, “Take care, Dad.”
Then she stepped outside, where raindrops and teardrops rolled steadily down her face.
* * *
Shortly before Seth was going to leave for the day, Joseph Schrock stopped in to report the south end of Willow Creek was blocked off because the creek had overflowed its banks and Meadow Road was submerged.
“I’ll walk home on West Street, instead,” Seth said. “Denki for telling me. Otherwise I would have had to double back once I got to Meadow Road.”
“I only found out myself when I returned from an appointment in Highland Springs this afternoon. Otherwise, I would have warned Trina, too. Poor maedel, it must have taken her over an hour to get home from the diner.”
“Trina was in the diner?” Seth wondered why she had ventured out in the inclement weather.
“Jah, I saw her eating with an Englischer. He looked old enough to be her daed. Anyway, mach’s gut, Seth.” Joseph gave a brief wave of his hand and slipped back out the door.
As Seth trudged home, he was so consumed with wondering who Trina met at the diner he didn’t notice the rain had soaked through his coat to his shirt until he arrived at the house and Fannie handed him a towel.
“Where’s my groossmammi?” he asked, patting his sleeves dry.
“She’s in her room with the door closed. I think her koppweh might have gotten worse. Probably from the buwe—they’ve been very loud today.”
“And where are they?”
“In the basement. I’ll start to make supper now that you’re home.”
The last thing Seth wanted was for Fannie to stay any longer. “That’s alright. I’m sure your daughters are waiting to see you. We’ll just have sandwiches.”
Fannie’s shoulders drooped in disappointment, so Seth quickly offered, “I’ll hitch your buggy for you and bring it around so you won’t get wet.”
“Denki. I’d appreciate that,” she replied. Ever so casually, she added, “Unlike Trina and her two Englisch guests, I have no interest in strolling around in the rain.”
Seth couldn’t help taking her bait. “Trina had guests today?”
“Jah. She was walking around her yard with two men. It seemed as if they were surveying the property.”
Seth’s stomach lurched as he briefly wondered if Trina was reconsidering selling. He just as quickly dismissed the notion. Trina would never do that. But why was she showing anyone the property, especially in the rain? Seth could hardly wait for the boys to go to sleep so he could go talk to her. First, he checked on Martha, who refused anything to eat, and then he made sandwiches for the boys, gave them baths and tucked them into bed.
“Is everything okay?” Trina asked as she let him in.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’d like to tell me,” he said, crossing the threshold.
“What do you mean?” Her face was puckered with confusion.
He wasn’t in the mood for their usual repartee. “Don’t play games, Trina.”
“What are you talking about, Seth?” Now her hands were on her hips. “And why do I suspect Fannie is at the bottom of whatever’s troubling you?”
“Maybe it’s because you know she knows you had men here looking at your property.”
“Oh, that.” The scowl faded from Trina’s face as she sat down at the table, waving her hand dismissively. How could she be so casual? “Jah, my daed and his business associate came here and, jah, they were looking at the land. But I made it clear to them I wasn’t interested in selling.”
“Was this before or after you ate lunch with them in the diner?”
Trina’s head jerked back. “Wow. I know Willow Creek is a small community, but I didn’t realize just how many people are interested in my business.”
“So it’s true, you had dinner with them?”
“Not with them. I ate dinner with my daed. Alone. Is that a crime?”
“Was it your idea?” Seth was annoyed he had to grill her for details. If she had nothing to hide, why wasn’t she being more forthcoming?
“I don’t know why that matters, but neh, he was the one who texted me. He wanted to get together and I felt I owed him that much. I wanted to tell him I’d always—”
“He texted you? You still have your cell phone?” Seth was astounded.
“Jah. I’d forgotten all about it until I heard the text notification go off.”
Seth paced the length of the kitchen. This was exactly how things had started to unravel with Kristine’s plans to join the Amish. First, it was her cell phone she couldn’t give up. Then it was her favorite pieces of jewelry. Next, it was her laptop. She always had a compelling excuse for keeping whatever it was she wanted to keep—including Freeman. Now here was Trina, making similar excuses just one day after she promised him she’d put every last Englisch thing out of her life. Worse, it was just one day after he’d told his young, vulnerable sons about her plan to convert! Seth was seething.
“Your cell phone. Your father. Your father’s business associate.” He counted on his fingers, listing her offenses. “What other parts of your Englisch life are you still holding on to?”
“Are you kidding me?” Trina asked with knives in her voice. “After everything I’ve given up, do you really believe there’s any aspect of Englisch life I’m deliberately hanging on to?”
“Clearly there is,” Seth barked. His volume rose as he continued, “I just wish you would have recognized you weren’t fully committed to leaving your Englisch life behind before I told the buwe you were converting. It will devastate them if you change your mind.”
“You know I understand that better than anyone!” Trina countered, her nostrils flaring. “I’d never break such an important promise to Timothy and Tanner because I remember exactly how destructive it was when my daed didn’t keep his promises to me.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” Seth glowered back at her. “Maybe it’s like daed, like dochder. Can’t trust him, can’t trust you.”
Trina slapped her palms against the table and jumped to her feet, leaning forward to glare directly into his eyes. “The problem isn’t that I’m untrustworthy—it’s that you’re untrusting. So if you want to live the rest of your life distrustful and afraid, go right ahead. But you’re not the only one who’s going to miss out—your attitude is going to harm your buwe, too. And that’s as unfair to them as my daed was to
me.”
She twirled and stormed out of the room at the same time Seth stomped outside into the rain. As angry as Trina was, he was twice as livid. He didn’t regret it one iota that he’d challenged her commitment. No matter what she said about his so-called distrustful attitude affecting Timothy and Tanner, if there was even an inkling of doubt Trina wasn’t going to stay, it was Seth’s parental duty to protect his sons from becoming even more attached to her. He resolved from then on to keep them away from her—and to keep himself away from her, too.
Chapter Ten
Trina waited until she was sure Seth had left before she emerged from her room, slamming the door behind her. Who did he think he was, acting as if she’d committed a crime by meeting with her father? And who did he think she was to suggest she didn’t want to let go of her Englisch life? She circled the parlor, ranting aloud, “If I wanted to hold on to my Englisch life, I wouldn’t have forfeited a half a million dollar sale in order to stay here!”
Her anger gave her a surge of energy. She pulled a sack of flour from the pantry and yeast from the fridge and began making bread. Nothing ever felt as good as kneading the dough hard and punching it down. She made four loaves in succession while flashes of lightning illuminated the sky and thunder raged outside as tempestuously as she did.
She realized she was sick and tired of trying to prove herself to Seth. She was almost grateful he’d said such awful things because it showed her he wasn’t going to change. What good would it do for him to trust her after she’d become Amish? That wasn’t trust; that was proof. She wanted him to trust her now, before she converted. She wanted him to have faith in the best, not to always suspect the worst.
And what about him keeping his word? He’d said he’d support her however he could during her convincement process. What hypocrisy! He accused her of being like her father, but he was more like Richard Smith than she’d ever be. She was crushed to discover he was like every man who’d ever left her when she most needed help, and suddenly her anger completely fizzled out, leaving her feeling dejected and alone. Desperate for consolation, she read and reread the letters her mother sent Abe until the accounts of happier times soothed her heartache enough that she could finally go to sleep.
Her New Amish Family Page 16