by Josie Bloss
Ugh. Time to change the subject. “What I was really wondering is if you’ve figured out what you’re going to do about Beau.”
He moved away, and didn’t reply for so long that I finally picked up a half-rotten tomato that had fallen on the ground and chucked it at his arm.
“Hey!” he said, throwing it back at me.
“I’m serious,” I said. “What are you going to do?”
“I guess I need to talk to Abigail about it,” he said. “I don’t know when.”
“But Beau’s coming here tonight and—”
“Faith, I know that. But we don’t know why or what’s going on. It … it could just be a normal dinner and we’re getting all worked up for—”
“It’s not, you know it’s not! Abigail said he’s never come on his own like this, without Rachel and Elijah. And he’s never come this early. Your dad is making a big deal about some conversation they’re going to have.”
Asher sighed. “I know.”
I stood up, no longer caring if anyone was observing us.
“I meant what I said before. If you don’t do anything about this, I will!”
“Shhh, Faith!” he said, looking around anxiously. “I believe you, okay? But I just really think I need to talk to Abigail first—”
“But then she’ll know that I told you!”
“Maybe I could get it out of her some other way.” He glanced anxiously around the garden, and I felt terrible. I was beginning to think I shouldn’t have told him anything.
“Maybe,” I said, and sighed. I looked over at the house and saw that Mr. Dean was watching us from the kitchen window. His face was unreadable. When he noticed me looking at him, he turned away.
“Asher, what would you do if you told your dad and he pushed ahead with it anyway?” I asked. “What if he still made Abigail marry that guy? What if he found someone for you to marry who you didn’t like?”
Please say you’d fight it. Please say you’d laugh in his face and leave this craziness behind.
I knew it was an irrational and cruel thought. This life was what Asher knew and believed in. Why would he leave?
He glanced over at me, and then off across the garden toward the fields. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m having such a hard time figuring this out. Because I guess I’d do what I’m supposed to do. Stay with my family and be a good son.”
My heart sank.
“Even if … ”
“If what?”
“If you figured out you disagreed with your dad? And if you really wanted a … a different life?”
“Like what kind of life?”
A normal life.
“I don’t know … like in a city or something.”
“What do you know about living in a city?”
I shrugged. “It’s just something I’ve thought about. I mean, I’m sure not everyone who lives in cities is bad. I bet there are all kinds of people. Good people, even. People you would like.”
He watched me with that same quizzical look, like he was trying to categorize me and was failing at it.
“I guess I’ve thought about it sometimes,” he admitted. “But it would mean the end.”
“The end?”
“The end of being his son.”
“Maybe he’ll surprise you?” I suggested, thinking of my parents, who hadn’t disowned me for my stupid mistakes. And at least seemed to forget about them for periods of time.
“Doubt it,” Asher said.
“Doubt what?” said Abigail from nearby. She had snuck up behind us.
Both of us turned to face her entirely too quickly, and she gave us a suspicious look.
“What’s going on here?” she said.
Asher and I looked at each other, then back at her.
“Um … ” I said.
“We were talking about Beau,” said Asher. “We were talking about tonight.”
“Oh.” Abigail’s eyes narrowed even more as she looked at me. “What about Beau?”
I glanced at Asher, sure that we both radiated guilt. Abigail caught on instantly.
“Did you tell him, Faith?” she demanded. “Did you … I can’t believe you did that when I asked you not to!”
“She’s worried,” said Asher with a helpless shrug. “We both are. I’ve just … I’ve just never liked him very much either, okay? I wasn’t surprised. And I just want for you to—”
“Faith, I told you that stuff in confidence,” Abigail hissed at me, with more hostility then I’d previously thought she had in her entire body. “I guess that was a mistake.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay quiet,” I said desperately, looking from her to Asher. I felt so awkward, being in the middle of two siblings. Me and my big mouth had caused this.
No, Beau and his grossness caused this, said a voice inside me.
“I was thinking that I should … I should tell Dad,” Asher was saying. “He should know about what Beau did.”
“What?” Abigail crossed her arms tightly. “No. Just … absolutely not. Don’t you dare say anything to Daddy.”
“But, Abi—”
“I will never forgive you,” she said, cutting him off. “And how do you know you’re not getting in the way of God’s plan for me? How would you feel about that?”
Asher tried to put his hand on her shoulder. “But how do you know, Abi—”
“It was my fault, okay?” She shook his hand off angrily. “Whatever happened was my fault and I don’t want Daddy to know. If you tell him, I’ll … I’ll tell him about you two.”
Asher and I stared at her.
I didn’t like the way she said that. My stomach clenched.
“Because look at you,” she spat, shaking her head slowly. “You’re practically … canoodling out here! And don’t think I didn’t notice you two last night, coming in from the barn.”
“Abigail, you have the wrong idea … ” I said, even though she really didn’t have the wrong idea at all.
“This is just great!” Abigail snapped, glaring at her brother. “How dare you try and get into my business and tell me what to do when you’re so weak and worldly. You’re supposed to be a leader for me and someone to look up to, but all I see is weakness.”
Asher looked stung to the core, his eyes wide. After blinking at her for a few moments, he turned and walked quickly away, heading for the barn.
“You know it’s true, Asher,” Abigail called after him. “While I’m praying and striving to continue on a godly path to marriage, you aren’t even trying.”
We both watched him go.
“Did you hear me?” she yelled. “If you say anything to anyone, I’ll … I’ll tell! About you!”
Asher didn’t turn around. He disappeared into the open barn door, his shoulders slumped.
“Please, Abigail, you need to—”
She turned toward me and held up her hand. “No. Do not dare,” she said through clenched teeth, her face red. “Do not even presume to think you can tell me what to do or act like you know the first thing about what I need to do.”
And then she looked me square in the eye and said one word. Like it was the worst word in the whole English language.
“Dylan.”
TWENTY-ONE
I blinked at her, feeling weak in the legs.
“What?” I said, hoping I just had an auditory hallucination.
“I know the truth,” Abigail said. “Your name isn’t Faith. You’re not from southern Wisconsin. I bet you’re probably not even a Christian. You’re just some weird girl who thought it would be funny to come here and gawk and pretend to be someone else for a while.”
It’s very possible that my heart stopped for a moment.
“Abigail, please don’t—”
“SHUT UP!” she screamed, closing her eyes tight.
I glanced over at the porch, where several of the little kids had assembled and were watching us with interest. At least Asher had run away. I couldn’t imagine facing both of them at once.
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“How long have you known?” I finally asked, my voice cracking.
“Since this morning,” she said. “I was in my room. Your mom called your cell phone and I picked it up, planning to take it to you. But then she asked for Dylan and I said ‘Dylan who?’ and she said ‘Dylan Mahoney, the owner of this phone.’ Apparently she thinks you’re at some sort of camp in Springfield, which was interesting. I didn’t correct her, so she probably doesn’t suspect anything. She asked that you call her back.”
Well, this is just great. Thanks a lot, Mom.
“And while you and Asher were out here having your little powwow about my life, I decided to Google the name Dylan Mahoney.”
I stared down at the ground, feeling like I’d just had the air sucked out of my lungs by a vacuum cleaner. It was obvious what that meant, and what she had found. “Oh.”
“Oh is right,” she said. “You know, what you told me before makes so much more sense now. I understand why your friends don’t want anything to do with you. I understand why you cuss and don’t seem to really know the Word. There are naked pictures of you all over the Internet! It’s the most awful thing I’ve ever seen. I had to immediately erase my browser history so Mama wouldn’t see what I looked at!”
I glanced at her face, still so pretty and wholesome even in her justified rage. It was all over. I was right back where I had began. Alone.
I sighed in resignation. “You’re right. I sent those pictures to my boyfriend at the time, and when we broke up, he sent them out to everyone and it was awful. And shameful. I was an idiot. So, go ahead and say it then.”
She squinted at me, looking taken aback.
“Say … what?”
“Go ahead and call me a whore. A harlot. A … a Jezebel or whatever you would call someone like me. I know that’s what you want to say. And it’s not like it wouldn’t be true. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”
Abigail crossed her arms and shook her head, eyes looking toward the sky. “That’s what you’d expect me to do, isn’t it?”
I shrugged. “Isn’t that the truth, though? And isn’t lying a sin?”
And without a word, Abigail sat down. Right in the middle of the garden path, next to the tomatoes. She hugged her knees to her chest and stared straight ahead toward the back field, looking deflated.
Surprised, I sat down in the next row over, watching her through the leaves of the plants. The sun was shining down on us and the warm breeze ruffled our hair. I dug my bare feet into the soft soil, feeling it slide between my toes. Except for what we’d just said to each other, the moment was perfect.
“You know what the funny thing is?” Abigail said, sounding almost amused. “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone about you.”
“You weren’t?” I was shocked.
She looked over at me with a sad ghost of a smile. “No. For two reasons. One, because I thought maybe I could still be a good influence on you and maybe even lead you to the Christ, or at least to some self-respect. Because obviously you need some sort of help there.”
I almost chuckled, even in that horrible moment. The self-respect thing was true enough.
“And the second reason?” I asked.
“Faith … I mean, Dylan … even though I barely know who you really are and even though you’re a liar and a sinner and you told my secrets … ” She stopped and took a deep gulping breath. “You’re actually the best friend I’ve ever had. And even after all this, I just … I really don’t think you’re a terrible person at all.”
We regarded each other through the tomato plants. I found myself breathing through that pre-crying pain in my lungs, trying to will the tears not to come and humiliate me.
“Abigail, you’re my best friend, too,” I said. I felt a line of tears slip down my cheek and I wiped it away quickly, embarrassed. “And even though I’ve lied, and even though I don’t know the first thing about the Bible and you don’t know the psycho details of my stupid life, you do know … me. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.”
Abigail put her chin on her knees and looked at me.
“I believe you.”
I was so surprised, I couldn’t think of what to say for a moment.
“So, um, what happens now?” I eventually asked.
She shrugged. “I have no idea anymore. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been praying and praying.”
“And?”
Abigail shrugged and glanced at the sky again. “Nothing. The Lord seems to want me to figure this one out on my own.”
“Do you … ” I hesitated. “Do you think He wants you to forgive me?”
She gave a short laugh. “Um, probably. That’s sort of what He’s all about, if you get right down to it.”
“I guess,” I said. “I mean, you’re the expert.”
“ ‘Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye,’ ” quoted Abigail.
We sat in silence again, and I realized that some giant chunk of tension had been released from the base of my spine. I hadn’t even realized it had been there until it was gone. The worst had happened, but the sky hadn’t come crashing down and I had survived.
So with nothing else left to lose, I decided to keep talking.
“Abigail, I’m really, really sorry about telling Asher your secret,” I said. “But he’s your brother and I’m just so worried about you.”
“I know,” she said with a sigh.
“So, what about Beau? What about what he did to you? And what he wants?”
Abigail pulled her knees in even tighter.
“It’d kind of weird, you know? If you weren’t who you are, if you were really part of my world, there’s no way I could actually tell you this. But … I just don’t know. I should be happy … I have to be happy. This is what I want for my life. This is what my parents want. But Beau is just … not what I was picturing. Not at all. And I wonder if it’s punishment, if the Lord is showing me that He is in control of my life, not me. That I need to submit to His will. But I just don’t know, I don’t … ”
Tears were slipping down her cheeks now, leaving wet spots on her denim skirt. I reached through the leaves of the tomato plants and put my hand on her arm.
“For whatever it’s worth, I’ll still be your friend. Whatever you choose.”
She nodded slowly, not speaking. I took my hand back.
“Can I ask one thing, though?” she said. “Just one.”
“Yes, please. Anything,” I said.
Our teary eyes met again, and she looked at me fiercely.
“Don’t break my brother’s heart. You’ve made a fool out of me, but don’t do it to him. He’s already so confused and has been hurt so badly.”
I bit my lip and then said, “Believe me, hurting him is the last thing I want to do.”
“Okay, well, then one more thing,” she said. “You have to tell him who you really are.”
I sighed and watched a ladybug crawl ponderously up my arm. “But won’t that break his heart?”
“Not if he really adores you.”
I looked over at her sharply. “Adores me?”
Abigail shrugged. “It shows in the way he looks at you. Anyone can see it.”
“But—”
“Do you care for him?”
I thought of Asher’s handsome face, his strong arms around me, the way it felt like he could look right into my eyes with no trace of deceit or guile because he didn’t have an ounce of that in him. I thought of how I wasn’t scared when I was kissing him, because I knew he was good, because he always wanted to do what he believed was the right thing, because I’d seen him with his family and knew how kind and gentle he was, even when he thought no one was watching.
And I thought of how bright his face could be when he was looking at me, like I made him feel happy as well.
Even though there were entire oceans of things between us, an eternity of things we’d still need t
o figure out about each other, I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting him.
“Yes. Even though I’ve only known him for a week, I care about him a lot. But … don’t you disapprove? Aren’t you concerned about the fact that I’m not … like your family?”
“Look,” she said, shaking her head. “I just want my brother to be happy. He’s been miserable for months and, to be honest, I don’t think this”—she gestured to indicate the farm—“is ever going to make him happy. And if you, Dylan-of-wherever-you’re-from, are what he wants, then I’m not going to stand in his way. In fact, I think you could be good for each other. Maybe you could make each other better people.”
“But your dad will stand in the way,” I pointed out.
She laughed a little, morosely. “I think my father will stand in the way of whatever Asher wants to do if he doesn’t exactly follow Daddy’s vision. And Daddy’s vision is almost impossible to live up to. That’s just how Daddy is, for better or worse.”
“But if you think that, why are you—”
She interrupted me. “Don’t. It’s not the same.”
“But—” I said, frustrated.
“No. It’s different for girls. Asher can head off into the world and do what he needs to do. But my place is here. The Bible itself says my place is here, in training to be a helpmeet to my husband.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “ ‘Wives, submit to your husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church.’ ”
I cringed, wishing I could reach into her brain and shake it, convince her that women could be more than just submissive daughters and wives if they chose, that they were fully equal to men and she was wasting herself out here in these fields. But I felt so helpless and weak against her convictions.
“But, Abigail—”
“That’s what I believe,” she said, looking at me, no expression on her face. “It’s not up to you.”
“Girls!” called Mrs. Dean from the porch. “Time to come in and get dinner ready! Where are you?”
“Here, Mama,” Abigail said, standing up.
“What were you doing sitting in the garden? Come on up here and get yourself cleaned up! It’s a big night!”