by Beth Wiseman
“Helen . . .” Natalie blotted her eyes with a tissue she had crumpled in her hand. Lucas prayed again that Natalie didn’t attack his mother verbally, because Lucas was sure his father would defend her. “I know you and my mother have had words in the past, and you both live different lives. But my mother has been through a lot. She is a good person and has been working hard to put her life back together after her divorce from my father. I don’t know you very well, but I do know you are against Lucas and me getting married.” She looked at Lucas’s father. “And you too,” she said. “But this man was your friend.”
Natalie looked at Lucas with the saddest look he’d ever seen, her eyes swollen, tears streaming down her cheeks, her mouth trembling. “I love you with all of my heart, Lucas. And I wanted more than anything to be your wife.”
Lucas heard her speaking in past tense and felt his own lip beginning to quiver as his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest.
“But I think we should put any plans of marriage on the back burner for now. I need to focus on this situation with my mother.”
Lucas took the steps necessary to get close enough to hold her arms. “Don’t do this, Natalie. Forget about everyone else for a minute, even mei parents.” He waved a dismissive hand in their direction. His father stepped forward and was about to say something when his mother stood, put a hand on his father’s chest, and shook her head, signaling him to wait.
“It’s us. You and me. I love you with all of my heart too.” Lucas tried to keep the shakiness out of his voice. “I’m willing to change everything about my life to be with you.”
She reached up and cupped his face with one hand. “And you shouldn’t have to. Don’t you think I see how uncomfortable you are at my apartment? Your family is so hurt that you won’t be baptized into the faith you were born into, even Levi, and it’s devastating to your parents.” She paused, sniffling. “This is going to be all-consuming with my mother for a while, and she needs me. Maybe we need to step back for a while and see our situation the way everyone else does.”
Lucas lowered his head as she moved her hand from his cheek, mostly because he didn’t want her—or his parents—to see the tears in his eyes. “Don’t do this, Natalie. We aren’t everyone else.” He looked at her. “No one is forcing me to leave my community. It is a choice I made because I want to be with you.”
She looked at Lucas’s parents. His father’s expression hadn’t changed, but his mother had tears in her eyes as she looked at Lucas.
“I am my mother’s only support system. I’m all she has. And she has been wronged because she trusted whoever lived in that house—someone she met through your family.” She pointed toward Moses’s house.
“I’m not blaming you.” Still crying, she looked at his mother. “I’m not blaming anyone.” But it sounded like she was blaming them, even if just a little. Natalie lowered her head for a few seconds, and when she looked up at Lucas she whispered, “I can’t marry you. At least not right now.”
She turned around and ran to her car.
Lucas ran after her but stopped when she slammed the car door as tears poured down his face. She said “not right now,” but he feared she was backing out of sharing their lives together at all. “Don’t go!”
But, in his heart, he knew she was already gone.
* * *
Helen reached for Lucas as he passed her on the porch, but he jerked away before he went in the house and slammed the door.
Helen brought a hand to her mouth, but it was impossible to stifle her cries.
“Let him be.” Isaac came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I know you want to go to him, but you can’t change any of this.”
“I’ve never seen Lucas like that before.” She turned to face her husband.
He gently brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “He is in lieb. And his heart is broken. But it will mend with time.”
Helen wasn’t so sure about that. She wanted to be happy that Lucas wasn’t marrying an outsider, but happiness wasn’t what she felt about any of this. “I was quick to tell the official person who came out here that I saw Moses and Cecelia kiss, that they were carrying on in an improper way. I told the young lawyer lady the same thing. Both times, I offered up the information on my own.”
Isaac sighed. “I assumed you did. But this situation is not of your making.”
Helen began pacing the porch, even though her hip rebelled. “I can’t believe Moses did this.”
“If that’s even his real name,” Isaac interjected.
She stopped pacing and lowered herself into the rocker, then looked up at her husband. “Do you think Marianne was involved in anything illegal?”
Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know. But setting up another person to pay the price for a crime you committed . . . That is about as low as a man can go.”
Helen took a deep breath, thought for a few minutes, then said, “I practically told Cecelia that our people were better than the Englisch. It sounds wrong and silly now, but that’s more or less what I told her. And I think Moses must have been Amish, baptized into the faith. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spoken our Pennsylvania Deutsch so well. And that makes what I said to Cecelia even worse.” Helen’s stomach clenched as she remembered her unkind words to Natalie’s mother.
Isaac dropped his suspenders and untucked his shirt, then sat down in the other rocking chair, sighing. “Our community has sinners like everywhere else, but I am surprised about Moses.”
Helen shook her head and was quiet for a short while, her thoughts drifting back to Lucas. “I guess I should be happy that Natalie broke things off with Lucas, for now anyway.” She looked at her husband. “So, why do I feel so awful?”
“Because our sohn is hurting.” Isaac stroked his beard. “I’m going to go see the other elders and the bishop tomorrow. We need to have a meeting about this thing with Moses. In the meantime, let’s not push Lucas into conversations he might not be ready to have. Let him work through this in his own way.”
Helen nodded. There was someone she needed to have a meeting with too.
Chapter 17
Cecelia tightened the belt on her white robe, opened the bottle of vodka, and added it to her glass of orange juice. She’d found another bottle this morning that she’d forgotten about. It had been awhile since she’d felt the need to drown her sorrows with alcohol. And most of those times, she ended up pouring the drink down the sink, like she had recently.
After staring at the glass for several minutes, she brought it to her lips and downed the entire thing in a few large gulps. Natalie would be disappointed in her. Cecelia was disgusted with herself. But she poured another one anyway.
Tom had reconnected with Olivia via text message from Mississippi. Coward. And he hadn’t called Cecelia since he’d gotten word of her legal issues from Natalie. And that was fine. In addition to helping her see how he’d tried to play her, his cowardly actions had enabled Cecelia to view the situation as someone looking in from the outside. Her ex-husband would always be Natalie’s father, and once the dust settled, Cecelia hoped Natalie would make an effort to be closer to her father, but that was up to her. Cecelia was done pining over the loss of her marriage. She also didn’t care if she ever saw Moses or heard his name again.
Halfway through her second drink, she flipped through the bills on the counter, then sorted them by the most demanding, and the mortgage company landed on the top of the pile. She didn’t even open it. What was the point? She still didn’t have the money to pay it, and she wasn’t asking Natalie for another dime. Her daughter was blowing through her college money in an effort to keep Cecelia out of prison. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
She scooted across the floor in her fuzzy white slippers, dotted with orange juice she’d spilled, and wondered who would be knocking so early in the morning. After glancing at the clock on the mantel, she decided ten wasn’t really that early to most people.
“Oh, perfect,” sh
e said after she opened the door. “Helen, if you’ve come to rub my nose in my own poop, this isn’t a good time.” Cecelia raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.
“Can I please come in? I want to talk to you, and I’ve asked the driver to wait.” She nodded over her shoulder, then looked back at Cecelia. “I found your address in the phone book.”
Cecelia didn’t know anyone even used phone books anymore. She tossed hers every time a new one showed up in the mail or on the doorstep. Cell phones and Google had made phone books obsolete. Apparently, not for the Amish. She moved aside and waved an arm. “Sure. Why not? Come on in, Helen.”
She closed the door and motioned to the couch. “Have a seat.” She raised an eyebrow. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Helen sat on the edge of the couch, her little black purse in her lap. “Nee. I’m fine.”
Cecelia sat in the chair across from Helen, keeping her eyes on the woman, and took another drink. Helen would surely dub Cecelia as an alcoholic, even though Cecelia hadn’t had a drink before noon in a long time.
“So, what brings you to my neck of the woods this fine morning?” Cecelia crossed one leg over the other and kicked her fuzzy slipper into motion, willing it to fly off and smack Helen in the face.
“I wanted you to know that none of us knew about Moses.” She lowered her eyes, sighed, and looked back at Cecelia. “We are so upset about this. Isaac is meeting with the bishop and elders right now.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t give it too much thought, Helen. I’m sure everyone in your little community will survive. And look at the bright side. I now own Moses’s house. I’ll be your neighbor.” She let out a fake gasp. “Oh, wait. No. Let’s see.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “I won’t be living there, even though this house is probably going to foreclose soon, because I don’t have the eleven thousand dollars needed to catch up on the mortgage, so that property will likely foreclose too. I guess I’ll be homeless.” She let out a louder gasp. “Ha! I almost forgot. Who needs a house when you’re in prison?” She chugged the rest of her drink.
“Cecelia, we are sorry for your troubles. We really are. We believed Moses to be a gut man.” Helen looked down.
“Well, okay. You’ve come to clear your conscience, so, mission accomplished.” Cecelia wondered if she was slurring since she wasn’t used to drinking, and she suspected she wasn’t going to feel very good about herself later. She stood, empty glass in hand. For now, she wanted to be alone. “As you said, your driver is waiting.”
“Did you know Natalie called off her marriage to Lucas? Or, at least, put things on hold.”
Cecelia sat back down. “No. Are you sure? I just talked to her last night.” Thinking back, Natalie hadn’t sounded like herself, but Cecelia assumed it was because of this legal stuff.
“Ach, I’m sure. She told Lucas in front of me and Isaac.” Helen lowered her eyes again. “Lucas is heartbroken.”
“I’m sure Natalie is too. She loves Lucas.” Cecelia tried to picture how the scene must have unfolded when Natalie told them there wouldn’t be a wedding anytime soon. “Well, we got our wish.” Although, Cecelia felt worse than ever now.
Helen dabbed at one eye with a tissue she’d pulled out of her apron pocket. “Ya, I guess we did. But I can’t stand to see Lucas so upset. Maybe I didn’t realize how much he really loved her. I’ve been so caught up worrying about him leaving us that I couldn’t see past that. But, seeing them together last night, and all the tears . . .” She wiped her eyes again.
Both women were quiet for a while.
“Did she give a reason?” Cecelia set her glass on the end table, resolved not to have any more. She rubbed her temples, hoping a migraine didn’t come on.
“She gave several reasons. She was upset that Moses was our friend. She’s upset about what happened to you, but she also said she’d be asking Lucas to give up too much.” Helen tipped her head to one side. “It was so sincere, so giving, to make such a sacrifice. But now I worry if Lucas will ever love anyone as much as he loves her.”
Cecelia was quiet.
Helen stood. “Thank you for allowing me to come in. Isaac and our family—actually, our entire community—is saddened by what Moses did. We feel sure the truth will come out and you won’t go to jail.” She tucked her chin and limped toward the door.
This was a Helen that Cecelia had never seen. Humbled.
Cecelia stood, walked her to the door, and opened it for her.
After Helen stepped across the threshold, she turned to face Cecelia, her eyes filled with tears. “Mei family will be saying extra prayers for you—and Natalie—each and every day.”
Cecelia stared at the woman, then said, “Thank you for coming, Helen. I’m going to talk to Natalie to make sure that any decision she made wasn’t influenced by my situation.” Even though Cecelia knew it was.
Helen nodded before she hobbled down the sidewalk.
Cecelia closed the door, went to the kitchen, and poured out the bottle of vodka. Then she went to call her daughter, who obviously needed her but probably assumed Cecelia had already checked out emotionally.
That was the old Cecelia, she reminded herself as she got dressed. There’s a new gal in town, one who wants to be a better mother.
* * *
Natalie shoved a spoon into the container of chocolate ice cream, her feet propped up on the coffee table. As she savored the bite, she ran her hand along her red sofa and wished Adeline was here to comfort her.
Natalie had been questioning God all morning. She’d worked hard to be a good person, to get to know Him, and she couldn’t understand why He was letting all of this happen. Her thoughts returned to the fact that maybe she wasn’t worthy. And every time she thought about Lucas, she started to cry again. He’d sent her several texts and called twice since last night. She hadn’t answered.
And then it hit her. This is why God is letting this happen. Lucas isn’t meant to be with me, and he’d never have the heart to break things off. Natalie might not have had the strength to end things either, if all this business with her mother hadn’t happened. Maybe she needed an excuse to end the relationship. She loved Lucas enough to let him go lead the life God had planned for him. While they’d been discussing things like his learning to drive, where they would live, and a whole bunch of other transitions, maybe they had overlooked the more important issues, the ones that revolved around the spiritual aspects of their being together.
She stood when there was a knock at the door. Squeezing her eyes closed, she hoped it wasn’t Lucas. After a few seconds, she looked though the peephole. It was her mother. She wondered how she would summon up enough energy to comfort her mother when she couldn’t even eat enough ice cream to lessen her own pain.
With the spoon hanging out of her mouth, Natalie eased the door open and stepped aside.
Her mother swooshed past her into the living room, then turned to face Natalie before she sat on the couch and patted the spot beside her.
After she took the spoon from her mouth, Natalie closed the door, then lumbered her way to the couch and plopped down with the ice cream in her lap. Her mother gently took the ice cream and the spoon and placed them on the table. Then she pulled Natalie into a hug and rubbed her back.
Within seconds, Natalie started to cry. She sobbed for a while before she eased out of the embrace.
“I sensed you might need a hug.” Her mother pushed hair away from Natalie’s face, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, then handed the ice cream back to her. “Although sometimes ice cream is exactly what we need.”
Natalie shook her head. “I’ve had enough.” She handed the container to her mother, who placed it on the coffee table again. Natalie waited for her to state the purpose of her visit. A phone call from Dad? Or maybe a call from the lawyer had her worked up.
“Helen came to see me this morning.” Her mother slipped her feet out of a pair of black flip-flops. “She said you broke up with Lucas.” When Natalie didn’t
say anything, her mother picked up the ice cream, then eased her feet up on Natalie’s coffee table as she leaned against the back of the couch. Natalie got comfortable, too, and stretched her legs out.
Her mother took a giant bite of ice cream. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Natalie waited for her mother to force the conversation, but she just took another bite, then offered Natalie the spoon. This time, Natalie took it and plunged it into the ice cream, pulling out a large spoonful.
They continued to share the ice cream, and eventually Natalie laid her head on her mother’s shoulder, and her mom reached an arm around her and held her.
They stayed that way for a long while.
“Today is Good Friday.” Mom kissed Natalie on the forehead. “I was thinking maybe we could go to church Sunday for Easter.”
Natalie looked to see if her mother was teasing. “We don’t have a church.”
Shrugging, her mother smiled. “Maybe we should find one. Then after the service, I’ll cook a ham, and we can have mashed potatoes, green beans, and whatever else I can dream up.”
Natalie nodded as a tear slid down her cheek. “That would be great.”
Maybe God was hearing her prayers. Natalie’s life was in shambles, but He had returned her mother to her, the woman she remembered before the divorce. And her mother’s effort was particularly appreciated since Natalie was sure she was equally distraught.
She smiled. “Thank you for coming, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, baby girl.”
* * *
Lucas arrived at Mary and Levi’s house at their normal suppertime Friday night, not surprised that Natalie’s car wasn’t there.
“Have you heard from her?” Lucas asked Mary as he followed her to the kitchen. Only three places were set at the table. “I guess you have.”