The Patient One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “Can’t a man visit you without an invitation?”

  She felt herself flush. “Of course, you don’t need an invitation to come over. I’m always happy to see you.”

  “Is that right?”

  When his smile widened, she shook her head at him. Sometimes it felt like he could take anything she said and give it a new meaning. “You know what I meant. What’s with the clothes?”

  He paused on the first step, suddenly looking a lot less sure of himself. “Do I really look that different to ya, Marie?”

  “Well, yes . . . and no.”

  He grinned. “That ain’t much of an answer.”

  She honestly wasn’t sure what to say. She settled for honesty. “I’ve never seen you wear a hat like that before.”

  John pulled the ball cap off his head and examined the bill, which was emblazoned by a red C. “This stands for Cleveland, you know. For the Cleveland Indians baseball team.”

  His gaze was so intent, she had a hard time looking away. She knew what the C stood for. What she didn’t know was why he had decided to wear that instead of his usual straw hat. “Um, are you a fan now?”

  “Jah.” Some of his confidence seemed to crack. “Well, I mean, I like baseball and I’ve seen the Indians play before.”

  This day—and their conversation—just kept getting stranger and stranger. “I didn’t know you liked going to the Indians games,” she murmured. Looking down at the table next to her chair, she noticed her sandwich sitting there, calling to her like a tasty beacon. “I was just having a sandwich. Would you like one? It’s no trouble.”

  His gaze softened. “Nee. But you sit down and eat.”

  “Are you sure?” She was having a hard time deciding whether to give more importance to good manners or to her growling stomach. “I would usually put the food away, but I didn’t eat lunch. Or breakfast.”

  “Oh, Marie.” He waved a hand at her, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Finish your sandwich.”

  His voice was soft. Different. That tone, combined with his completely different look, turned her mind to mush.

  Was she even hungry anymore? She wasn’t sure.

  “Actually, um, I think the sandwich can wait. It looks like we’ve got something pretty important to talk about instead.”

  “It’s important, but not urgent. I’m thinking I should be more worried about you eating for the first time all day after five.” His voice softened. “What’s going on, Marie? I thought you usually packed your lunch.”

  “I did. I mean, I do.” To her surprise, tears pricked her eyes. “It’s nothing to worry about. I just had a busy day.”

  “Too busy to eat?”

  “It was really busy.” And awful.

  He sighed. “Marie, it’s obvious that it’s more than that, jah?”

  “It was. It was filled with all kinds of things that went wrong.”

  “Going hungry now won’t help. Eat a little bit more, ’kay?” He eyed her seriously, reminding her that he might be very sweet but he was also the kind of man who was used to being listened to.

  Feeling frustrated all over again, she took another big bite of her sandwich and chewed. Then took another bite.

  Sitting across from her, his elbows resting on his knees, John smiled as she self-consciously finished her meal.

  After she was done, she smiled weakly at him. “I’m finished.” And yes, that was completely obvious.

  His expression softened. “What happened, Marie?”

  “Oh, everything.” When he remained quiet another minute, she blurted, “The truth is . . . I’m not liking my boss much right now.”

  “What did he do?” he asked as he shifted, crossing his denim-covered legs.

  “My morning started with me spilling coffee on my leg.” Though it was silly, she kicked out a foot and lifted the hem of her shorts up an inch. She now sported three red marks on her thigh.

  His eyes widened. “Marie, you burned yourself.”

  “I know. It hurt pretty bad.” Attempting to laugh it off, she said, “Next time I say I like my coffee really hot remind me about this.”

  He was still frowning. “You’re lucky you didn’t blister.”

  “I’m glad about that, for sure. The last thing I need is a couple of scars on my leg from hot coffee.”

  “What does the spill have to do with your boss?”

  “Well, I had to try to clean up the stain and put cold water on my leg, so I was five minutes late to a meeting. Mr. Black was pretty angry.”

  “I’m getting kind of angry, thinking about him being so uncaring.”

  She smiled at him. “Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, she told him about the other parts of her day, none of which—except for the mean woman—was all that bad. But when put together it had felt overwhelming.

  “I’m real glad I came over then.”

  “Me, too.” Taking a chance, she added, “Talking about it all with you has helped a lot. But I think I would have been glad to see you no matter what.”

  “I feel the same way about you. I probably haven’t told you this enough, but I’m really glad you moved back to Walnut Creek.” He looked down at his feet before meeting her eyes again. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” She smiled at him, then took a deep breath. “John, are you ever going to tell me about your clothes? And don’t even start talking about baseball again. This outfit is not normal for you.”

  After a pause, he spoke. “Marie, after what happened in that cornfield, after those kisses we shared, you know things between us changed.”

  “So you didn’t think of it as just a simple kiss either?” Of course, the moment she asked her question, she knew she was being silly. First, no one in their right mind would call what they’d done in that cornfield just a simple kiss. And second? She knew he would never have kissed her like that if his feelings weren’t involved.

  “Nee. It was anything but a simple kiss, Marie. I’ve kissed other women. This was something different.” He waved a hand. “I don’t know what happened, but there’s something about the two of us. Ain’t so?”

  He might be dressed as an Englischer, but he still spoke like an Amish man. It was oddly comforting to know he hadn’t completely changed overnight.

  She swiped a crumb off her lap and nodded. “It’s different with you.”

  He clasped his hands together. “Different, jah. But maybe it’s better to say it was also intense. Passionate, maybe?”

  Her cheeks heated again. “It was certainly passionate.”

  “Things could have gotten out of control if we hadn’t been careful.” He sighed. “By the time we walked back to your car, I knew everything had changed between us. At first, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about it. I guess I needed time to think about it, and to figure out what I wanted to do.”

  She was trying to keep up. “But . . .”

  “But then we had the accident.”

  She swallowed, still feeling responsible. “That accident changed everything, didn’t it?”

  He nodded. “I know we both felt that it was a reminder that anything can happen.” He stood up. “After Andy’s death—I’m not going to lie—it shook me up. But now, going to Evan’s funeral? Realizing that the Lord took him so quickly? Well, it made me realize that maybe I’ve been thinking too much.”

  It almost seemed like she was hearing a buzzing in her ears. Everything John was saying was so sweet. But it felt intense, too, like every word he was saying could change her life. Could change both of their lives.

  Though, maybe that was his point. Their lives already had changed. She’d tried to be everything her parents had wanted. She’d tried to make corporate life and the big city her focus. Maybe had even tried to slip the Eight into her past, tried to pretend their long friendships didn’t mean what they used to. Of course, she’d learned fairly quickly that she’d been wrong. She didn’t want to worry about work or start new relationships with people who had never lived outside the city.
She needed people who shared her roots.

  With Andy’s death, she had realized that she’d needed to make the change sooner rather than later.

  So maybe she, just like John, had been ready to make a change.

  Still looking at her directly, he said, “I don’t want to think anymore. It’s time for action, don’t you think?”

  Realizing that he’d just voiced her thoughts, she nodded.

  “Since I know you could never fit completely into my world, I decided to bend a little and move farther into yours.”

  Was he really saying what she thought? A whole mixture of emotions ran through her. Excitement. Worry about him making the right decision. Gratitude that he would do something so life altering for her. “You are going to leave the Amish?”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever really been there. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been straddling two worlds for some time. I’ve finally just decided to pick a side and stand tall.” His voice lowered. “I realized that if I’m going to stand tall, I want to be standing next to you.”

  While she gaped at him, he continued. “All you have to do, Marie, is decide whether you want me standing there or not.”

  Staring at John, her heart was so full. Realizing what he had done, knowing that she was the first person he’d come to outside of his family after he’d made that decision? It was humbling.

  While she had secretly dreamed of such a thing, she hadn’t really thought John would choose her over his faith and his family’s traditions. So it was a surprise, too. Actually, she felt a little like a child on Christmas morning who had been given a new pony but wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

  She wanted to honor the moment by saying the right thing, to make John glad that he’d made such a big sacrifice. However, right at that moment, she wasn’t sure if she could think of anything to say that would even come close to what his choice meant to her.

  Then, she suddenly remembered something that Andy had said to her long ago, back when she’d been so scared to give Katie Steury one of her dolls for Christmas, thinking Katie or her parents would get mad at her. Andy had said that actions always meant more than words.

  So, she stood, looped her hands around John’s shoulders, and gave him a hug.

  When he immediately hugged her back, she relaxed against him. She’d done the right thing.

  TWENTY–NINE

  Katie paused, looking at everyone gathered in the room. Andy’s relatives, friends, and neighbors. All the people who had loved him so much. Each one was dressed in black. But maybe they all no longer looked quite so ravaged by grief? Bracing herself, she continued, hoping her words would help them as much as they helped her.

  Marie was in his arms. Though he was holding her against him and loved how she was relaxed and seemed pleased, John was a little dismayed.

  To be honest, he’d expected a far different reaction. On his way over to her house, he’d imagined all kinds of things. Marie dissolving into a torrent of happy tears. Her gaping at him, obviously overwhelmed and overcome by what he was saying.

  His favorite scenario had involved her talking a mile a minute, asking him a million questions, all interspersed with words of excitement and a whole lot of heartfelt words about how pleased she was about the changes he was willing to make in order to be by her side.

  He’d even thought about her peppering his face with kisses, being so joyous that she couldn’t contain herself.

  Never had he thought that she’d simply stand in front of him for a few minutes, gaping at him. Or calmly walk into his arms and give him a hug.

  Obviously, he should have given a little more thought about the way he told Marie about his decision.

  He’d shocked her. Maybe made her upset. Nothing in his life had been more humbling. For all of his talk about being patient, it seemed he should have been a little more patient, waited a little bit longer.

  Maybe even given her some warning.

  All of a sudden he felt silly in his ball cap and jeans, like he was an imposter, or a little boy playing dress up. Maybe he looked silly. Turning embarrassed, John just wanted to walk back down her driveway. Go for a walk, but not go home yet.

  Maybe he could go back to Will’s creek and do a little bit more praying before he returned back home? He was going to need as much support as he could get for when he faced his family again. Both Amanda and Molly had sent him off with big smiles and dreamy expressions, loving the idea that true love conquered all.

  Now he was going to have to tell them that Marie . . . well Marie was rather quiet about the whole thing. A knot formed in his stomach as he imagined what James and Anton would say to that.

  Boy, his grandfather would probably act disappointed in him and call him back into his kitchen for another pep talk.

  Striving to keep his voice a whole lot lighter than he felt inside, he pulled away and then stepped backward, giving them both some space.

  “John?” Marie asked. “What’s wrong?”

  What was wrong was that nothing was feeling very right. He cleared his throat, hoping to sound less devastated and more . . . casual. “You know what? I think I’m gonna just head out.”

  Her green eyes widened. “Now?”

  “Ah, jah. I mean, yes.” Fumbling over each word, he glanced at her face again, then concentrated on a point just above her head. “It’s obvious that you are stunned.” Maybe disappointed. “I realize now that I well, um, rushed things a bit.”

  “Rushed what?” She looked completely confused.

  Which was exactly how he was feeling.

  “Marie, I think I was too hasty about telling you about my decision.” Boy, he was sounding stranger and stranger. So stiff and formal. He tried to smile. “You know, maybe I’ve put the cart before the horse or something.”

  Her eyes brightened. “You think you’ve put the cart before the horse when it comes to telling me about your news?”

  Now he felt even more stupid. Because yep, only he would show up like an eager Englischer all while spouting Amish-themed analogies. He took another step back. “Never mind. Look. I’m sorry, Marie. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  All traces of amusement vanished. “You don’t?”

  “Obviously. So, how about this? I’ll get on my way and give you some space. Then, um, tomorrow or the next day I’ll come back and we can talk about our future.” There he went again! “I mean, my future.” And if she wanted to be in it. “You know what? How about we just forget the last fifteen minutes?”

  “Oh, John. I don’t think I am going to be able to do that.”

  His heart sank. He’d ruined everything between them before they’d even had a chance. “All right, then. I understand.”

  She shook her head as she stepped forward, reaching out and taking hold of his hand. “I can see we have a problem here.”

  Ah, yes. Yes, they did. “Jah. That is why—”

  “No, I don’t think you understand what I’m getting at, John,” she said, her eyes brightening again. “You see, what you just said to me, and what . . . well . . .” She waved a hand at his clothes. “What you have done . . . What you intend to do . . .” Her voice drifted off.

  Feeling a small kernel of hope, he ran a finger along one of her knuckles. “Finish your thought, Marie. I’m afraid I need to hear the words.”

  “All right.” She inhaled and smiled at him brightly. “What I’m trying to say, even though I’m terribly tongue-tied, is that what you have done is one of the most meaningful things anyone has ever done for me.”

  Meaningful sounded good. But it wasn’t really saying that she liked what he’d done, now was it? Or that she wanted to spend the rest of her life living with him. “I’m glad you aren’t mad.”

  “John, I’m the opposite of that! I’m floored. I’m amazed. I’m so, so happy that I can hardly form any words.” She grinned at him. “Obviously.”

  “You really mean that?”

  “Of course.”

  Now h
e felt tongue-tied. “Ah. Well, then. Danke.”

  She stepped closer to him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to do that anymore.”

  Her perfume floated around her again, teasing him, making it difficult to concentrate. “What shouldn’t I do?”

  “Speak Pennsylvania Dutch,” she said softly as she reached out a hand.

  He curved his fingers around her own. Tugged her closer. It seemed his body was no more able to pull away from her than his heart was. “Marie?”

  “You’re going to have to practice speaking English a lot more, since, you know, I don’t know much Amish.”

  Finally her words were sinking in. “Because?”

  She stepped even closer, so close that her blouse was brushing against his shirt. So close that their arms were sliding against each other. So close that he could smell the mint shampoo in her hair and the flowery lotion she rubbed into her skin. “Because I’m not going to let you leave just yet, John Byler.” Her voice turned husky. “Just like I’m not gonna let you take back a single word that you just said.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yep. You might as well face it, John. You’re my boyfriend now.”

  No, he was more than that. He was simply just hers.

  Maybe he should have pulled out more words from his head. Attempted to tell her how much her acceptance of what he was doing meant to him.

  But they’d talked enough.

  Instead, he bent down and claimed her lips again. Kissed her softly. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer, he curved his own arms around her waist and kissed her some more in an attempt to show her how precious she was to him. How much she meant to him.

  Marie responded in much the same way, seeming just as eager as he was to seal what had happened.

  When he at last lifted his head, he looked down into her eyes. Her eyelids were a little lower, and she had a soft expression in her face that he’d only seen once before—when he’d kissed her in the cornfield.

  Suddenly, he hoped another person would never see that expression. He wanted it to be his own.

  Even though it looked like she would step into his arms again with only the slightest bit of encouragement, he dropped her hands. “Sit down, Marie, and we’ll talk.”