The Patient One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  She shrugged. “Maybe. But more because it feels like everyone has an opinion about the accident. I never know what to say.”

  “Do you have an opinion?” He felt like he was opening a can of worms, but he also knew it had to be done. They needed to clear the air between them.

  “I’m not really sure.” Looking embarrassed, she said, “Isn’t that stupid? I mean, I thought I had opinions about everything. But now? Now, I wonder if my opinions even matter.”

  He scooted to the edge of his chair, wanting to reach out to her but not sure how she would react. “It’s not stupid at all. I think it’s smart. It’s easy to pass judgment. It’s harder to want to really think about another person’s perspective.”

  “I fear you’re giving more credit than is due, Danny.”

  “Why is that?”

  Looking even more pained, she said, “I feel guilty.”

  His first impulse was to shrug off her words. After all, they hadn’t had a single thing to do with their friends deciding to drink and drive. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s because I kind of feel like we should have done something.”

  “When?”

  “When they said that they were going to the barn to drink.”

  Now he did shrug. “Molly, come on. What do you think would have happened? You and me tell them about the dangers of drinking and they would be so impressed with our logic that they would change their plans?”

  “I know they wouldn’t have listened to me. But they might have listened to you.”

  “They wouldn’t have listened to me. Besides, I wouldn’t have told them that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it wasn’t any of our business. No one wants to be around people who tell them how they should run their lives.”

  She frowned. “I know. But I can’t help but think if more people stepped in and said things then maybe some of the bad things that happened could have been prevented.”

  Her words didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t like how she was trying to give them, and him especially, any responsibility for Evan’s death. “What happened was not our fault,” he blurted. “We didn’t even know they were going to drive.”

  “I know.”

  “You might not have been friends with Evan, but I knew him and liked him. I would have never done anything to cause him harm.”

  “I didn’t say that you did.”

  “But you insinuated it.” Angry now, and yes, also a little hurt, he added, “It’s not fair of you to say that I should have told them not to go to that barn and drink because they might have listened to me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears were in her eyes now. “Danny, I told you I was having a difficult time explaining my feelings.”

  “It seemed to me like you were explaining them just fine. What’s too bad is that you are wrong.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. “Please don’t be mad.”

  Just then her front door opened and her mother came out, holding two glasses of lemonade. “Hi, Danny. It’s a long walk over here. Would you like something to drink?”

  He glanced at Molly, but she had her face averted.

  Suddenly he wasn’t even sure why he’d come over in the first place. “Danke, Mrs. Byler, but I’ve gotta go.”

  Eyes wide, she looked from him to Molly. “But you just got here. Is everything all right?”

  “It’s fine, Mamm,” Molly said before he could say a word. “Danny only came over to tell me something. We’re finished now.”

  He felt her words straight to his gut. Without another word, he turned and started down the steps, Molly’s last statement ringing in his ears.

  She wasn’t right about everything, but she was surely right that they were finished.

  As far as he was concerned, he had no need to ever attempt to call on her again. They were too different.

  As he continued the long walk home, he had thought their differences would always revolve around her disability, or maybe even the fact that she came from a well-off large family and he and his little brother lived in a far different situation.

  But it seemed that there were now other things that were just as powerful that could keep them apart.

  TWENTY–SEVEN

  “Will always was a show-off,” Elizabeth Anne said.

  After coming clean to his father about not getting baptized, John had thought he would have felt more relaxed about his future. After all, it had been a big decision and a life-changing one. Unfortunately, he still found himself debating what to do next—and perhaps, when to take the first step in this new direction. What he needed were not only friends who he trusted, but who knew Marie well, too.

  And who could, perhaps, understand why he was thinking about the things he was.

  There were only two people he felt comfortable being completely honest with—Logan and Will. Will was his best friend. They’d gone to Amish school together, had sat together during church. They’d even goofed off together when they were little boys and everything in the world seemed like a better idea than being obedient and hardworking.

  Even though Logan was New Order Amish, he was currently having to deal with many of the same issues John was, since he was now courting Tricia Warner seriously.

  With all that in mind, John made arrangements for the three of them to go fishing in Will’s creek that evening after work. The three of them had spent many an hour there. When they were little boys, they’d built tree forts along the banks. Later, they’d walked along the banks for miles with their siblings. One crazy day, the Eight of them had had quite an adventure in the rain.

  But the three of them had always most enjoyed fishing together in a section just off the edge of the Kurtzes’ property. There, the fishing hole was deeper, the area was fairly secluded by a grouping of trees, and time seemed to stand still.

  He needed that space, and those two men, now.

  When John arrived at their usual spot, walking barefoot and holding his old fishing pole, he discovered Logan had already arrived. He was perched on the edge of a log and sipping what was no doubt coffee from a large red travel mug. “Hey, I thought I left too early,” John told him. “I’m surprised you beat me.”

  Logan shrugged. “I got off early. I was looking forward to seeing you guys, too. As soon as I brewed a fresh pot of kaffi I started walking over.”

  “I worked with Will, but I know he likes to check in with his mother when he gets home,” John said. “I reckon he’ll be along in a few.”

  “I imagine so. You got bait?”

  “I do.” Opening up a container he’d tossed in the top of his tackle box, he said, “I asked Ezra to get us a mess of night crawlers.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow. “And he did it?”

  “He’s still young enough to not mind digging for worms from time to time.” Grinning, John added, “He left them for me in the refrigerator. Mamm was none too happy about that.”

  “We used to do the same thing,” Logan said.

  “What did we used to do?” Will asked as he approached.

  “We stored our voahms in our muddah’s Tupperware.”

  Will winced. “You might have. I did not. Mei mamm would have blistered my rear end if I did that. You know she liked keeping a clean refrigerator.”

  “Oh, we know,” John said. Remembering all the summers he’d spent at the Kurtz house, either being babysat or simply playing, he shuddered dramatically. “Your mamm had to keep a tight rein on it, though. Otherwise we would have eaten everything in your kitchen.”

  “I’m thinking my father said the same things from time to time.” Will pulled out his rod and reel from its case and started adjusting the fishing line and hook. After he walked over to a particularly wide boulder—the source of many discussions over the years—he reached out a hand. “Send one of those worms this way.”

  John sat down and handed him the open container. After Will pulled a worm out and attached it to his hook, John baited his own line. He
poked the hook through the worm, wincing slightly as the worm wiggled in his fingers. “This used to bother me none. Now? Well, it feels a bit mean.”

  “You’re getting soft there, John,” Will said as he approached. “Next thing you know, you’ll be wanting to become an Englischer.”

  Here it was. His opportunity. John felt his cheeks flush. “Jah. Well, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Will smiled at Logan. “Told you.”

  “Told you?” he sputtered.

  “Logan and I have been guessing why you wanted to get together to fish. Looks like I was right.”

  It wasn’t a shock that his friends read his mind so easily. But it still was a bit disconcerting to realize that it hadn’t taken them more than a minute or two to figure out what had been on his mind. “No need to be quite so full of yourself there.”

  Will didn’t even attempt to hide his amusement. “Come on, John. Surely you didn’t think your relationship with Marie was a secret.”

  “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

  Logan, who had always been more diplomatic than Will had ever tried to be, easily baited his hook and cast the line. “It might not have been real obvious to everyone. But for those of us who’ve known you both all our lives?” He waved a hand. “It was hard to miss.”

  “What was hard to miss?”

  “The fact that you’ve always been smitten with our Marie,” Logan said. “Not that anyone would blame ya.”

  Will winked. “Don’t you remember Andy telling us how half the boys in the high school had set their caps for her?”

  “I remember.”

  Logan grinned. “I think we met at least four or five of them. Remember the black-haired guy with all the freckles?”

  Oh, John remembered. “He was a know-it-all.”

  “Nee, he was annoying, that’s what he was,” Logan said. “I’m pretty sure I told Marie never to bring him by again.”

  “I don’t think he was all that fond of us either,” Will said. “We didn’t have much in common.”

  Knowing he was one of Marie’s many admirers didn’t make John feel any better. Nor, he realized, did grouping him with the other boys she used to date convey the depth of his feelings for Marie. “You know it’s not like that.”

  “It’s not like what?” Will asked.

  “I’m not just taken in by a pretty smile and a bunch of golden hair.” Thinking about Marie, he stared out into the creek. “You know what? Marie Hartman is more than just a pretty face. She’s a hard worker, and is genuinely kind. She’s been a gut friend to us all, too.”

  Will looked taken aback. “I know that, John. I didn’t say she wasn’t special.”

  “Sorry.” John took a deep breath. “Obviously I am having some trouble talking about my feelings, and what I want to do.”

  “You’re doing fine. All we’re trying to say is that our Marie has been a gut friend, indeed,” Logan murmured.

  Feeling encouraged, John continued. “What’s more, returning to Walnut Creek after being gone so long hasn’t been easy, you know.”

  “I’m sure it has been an adjustment. She was in the city for years,” said Will.

  The words tumbled onward, practically falling from his mouth. “She came to a smaller bank and is having to prove herself all over again. And then there are her parents. You know how her mother is. Mrs. Hartman has her own goals for her. Poor Marie has been having to remind them that she’s not a little girl anymore, that she’s her own person.”

  Logan cleared his throat. “Jah. She’s wunderbaar.”

  Still looking out at the creek, John ignored the faintly snarky tone of his buddy, still concentrating on trying to find the right words. “I’m being serious. Marie’s been trying hard to find her place. That ain’t easy.”

  “It might not be easy, but I’d wager that her struggles might be over,” Will said.

  Taken aback by the statement, John glanced at him in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You know what I mean. She has you on her side now. If she has you, she won’t ever have to face things on her own again.”

  “Me and Marie being together isn’t going to be that easy,” John said quickly.

  “It might not be easy, but you don’t have to make it seem so hard,” Logan said. “Things will work out.”

  John sighed. “You both know as well as I do that just because someone might want something, it don’t mean that getting it is the right choice.”

  “I would agree with you if we were talking about a new fishing pole or a horse. But you are talking about your feelings for her. You can’t stop those,” Logan said.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I’m falling in love with Andy’s little sister,” Logan said. “If you don’t think that took me off guard, then you would be mistaken. Even though I’ve never regretted my feelings for Trish, I can’t deny that I did have some doubts about whether it was realistic to be together.”

  “But you two are still together.”

  Logan nodded. “Having Tricia has been worth all our struggles. I bet you already feel the same way about Marie.”

  “That brings up the next thing. She’s not Amish.”

  Will laughed. “I noticed that, too.”

  “Come on. You know what I’m getting at. Logan, what did your parents say? How did you feel when you started thinking about courting Tricia?”

  After taking a generous sip of his coffee, Logan turned to him. “I felt confused, I’ll tell you that. I couldn’t even fool myself into pretending that my feelings for her took me by surprise. I’ve spent the last couple of years hoping that I wouldn’t see Tricia because I thought she was too young, she was English, and she was Andy’s sister, which was a whole other can of worms.” Glancing at the Tupperware container, he rolled his eyes. “No pun intended.”

  “Did you ask her to change or did she volunteer to become Amish?”

  “We didn’t have much choice. I had already been baptized. I told her that I wasn’t going to break my vows. They were too important to me.”

  “I can’t see Marie being Amish.”

  Both Logan and Will started laughing. “That’s putting it mildly there, John,” Will said. “You’re gonna have to be the one who jumps the fence.”

  “I know.”

  “And?”

  “And . . . I think I’m ready.” Even saying that much out loud felt scary. “I value our beliefs and love Jesus, but I love Marie, too.”

  “I reckon it’s going to be hard,” Will said, “but other men and women we know have gone the same direction. What do your parents say, John?”

  “I spoke with my daed. He wasn’t surprised.”

  Logan, who had been reeling in a catch, glanced over at him. “I wouldn’t think he would be. Everyone knew there was a reason you didn’t want to get baptized when I did.”

  He was starting to think the only person he’d been fooling was himself. “I was relieved that my father wasn’t upset with me, but to be honest, I felt too old to be asking my parents for permission about my choice. I’m going to want their blessing, of course, but this is my life, not theirs.”

  “No offense, John, but I think you came here to ask our blessing, too,” Will murmured.

  “What?”

  “Your mind is made up. We all know it. You need to simply come to peace with it,” Logan added.

  “I guess that’s what I’ll do, then.” Steeling his spine, he added, “I’m going to do this then. I’m going to soon begin to be an Englischer.”

  “You’ll be fine. We’ve all spent the night at each other’s houses enough to not be too scared about the changes,” Logan said.

  “Plus, you already work at the trailer company with Englischers. You and me both do,” Will said. “It ain’t a different world.”

  “We’re thinking what you’re really going to have to do is think about buying a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and visit Marie and tell her you want to move for
ward.”

  John swallowed. “And hope and pray that she hasn’t changed her mind.”

  To his surprise, Will and Logan started laughing again. “What’s so funny?”

  “Well, she is a woman, John,” Will said. “They change their minds all the time.”

  Casting his line again, John grinned because he knew they were teasing him.

  But Will had just brought up his biggest fear.

  TWENTY–EIGHT

  “When it started thundering and lightning, we closed the cabin door, let the kittens free, and huddled in front of the fireplace. We decided to wait out the storm. But it was really hard, because by that time, it felt like we were having our own little squall right there in the cabin. From time to time, even the best of friends can get annoyed with each other.”

  By five o’clock Wednesday evening, Marie was certain it had been one of the longest days of her life. From spilling hot coffee on herself to running late to meetings, to getting yelled at by a customer, everything had gone wrong.

  She’d skipped breakfast, missed lunch, and couldn’t seem to do anything right. Things had gotten so bad, she’d ended up leaving at four thirty. She hadn’t cared one bit that she was the first employee to walk toward the parking lot.

  As soon as she got home she put on a pair of old shorts and a sweatshirt and made a huge BLT, her favorite stressed-out snack. Then, eager to spend at least part of the day outside, she walked out to the front porch of her little house, popped in her earbuds, and turned on her favorite playlist.

  She’d just taken a massive bite of the sandwich when John walked up the driveway.

  Or, it was someone who looked a lot like John. But couldn’t be, because this man was definitely not dressed Amish.

  Thinking that her headache, lack of food, and generally bad day had gotten the best of her, she continued to stare. The man was wearing a navy baseball cap, soft-looking denim jeans, and an untucked oxford shirt.

  Looking at the way that shirt hugged the man’s muscles, she almost choked. She knew those lines of that body.

  Putting down the half of sandwich she’d almost forgotten she was holding, Marie took off her earbuds and got to her feet. “John, what is going on?”