Their Convenient Amish Marriage

by Cheryl Williford

  Otto moved restlessly about the room, standing for a moment with Leviticus, only to relinquish the spot to Solomon and wander to a spare chair by the door. As the slightly bent man glanced around and observed their faces, he touched his beard, drawing his short, stubby fingers down the length of the bristled hair. He showed his edginess by stretching out the collar of his shirt with one finger, something Leviticus remembered seeing him do a thousand times while he would preach.

  Albert suddenly opened his eyes and made a sound, surprising them all. He didn’t move his head but sought to stare at Leviticus’s face with eyes the color of a summer sky. Eyes so like his own. Deep emotions, feelings he thought he’d long forgotten, stirred, causing him to gasp for breath. This was the father he knew and loved as a child. Albert looked near death, but in his mind, his daed was still the strong, single-minded father he remembered all too well. It was as if he could read the old man’s thoughts. Soh, have you wed yet?

  He pulled his gaze away from his father’s and looked toward Verity. She had sidled up to him by the bed, hovering, her face twisted in concern. There was no doubt in his mind. She loved his father as much as her own. In that moment, he knew they would marry today and bring peace to the old man’s mind before he passed. She would obey Otto’s wishes. She was Amish raised, just like Albert. Their motto was God’s will be done.

  Her chin lifted, her eyes locking with his for a moment. Silent words were exchanged between them. There would be a wedding today, like it or not. The time to fight Otto had passed. They would become man and wife, here and now, in this hospital room. Verity nodded his way, silently like-minded. Her shoulders dropped, all resistance gone.

  Reading their signs of resignation, Otto stepped forward, his Bible in hand. “For the love of Albert, I’m setting aside the rules of membership before marriage.”

  As minutes passed, Leviticus realized most of the formality of traditional Amish weddings was being set aside also. Leviticus looked into the eyes of his father’s best friend. There would be a fuss raised among the congregation, but Otto stood steady on his feet, prepared to set aside whatever was needed for his lifelong friend.

  Amish marriages were till death do us part. This was a huge sacrifice from Verity. Come Sunday, he’d join the New Order Amish church and finally be in good standing with the community. But what would his standing with Verity be after today?

  Traditional questions of loyalty to the church and each other would be left unasked and unanswered for today. There were to be no cheerful songs sung, laced with Gott’s promise to the faithful. It didn’t matter that he and Verity had no friends seated at their side, no wedding meal waiting for them at home. There’d be no family visits in other states, no days of visiting friends. Will Verity feel cheated? Naturally, she would.

  Otto motioned Solomon over, cleared his voice and bowed his head. All in the room followed suit. Leviticus’s fingers fumbled as he removed his baseball cap and tossed it on the floor. Why hadn’t he cut his hair sooner, taken to wearing Amish garb before now? Verity would have wanted that for today.

  Am I ready to be Amish? He reached out and took her cold hand in his. Her body quaked next to him. Marriage was forever. They both knew it. She was as terrified as he was. Maybe more.

  Otto lifted his chin and spoke. “Before Gott, we are here to join this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony.”

  Leviticus didn’t know where to look. He fixed his eyes across from his father’s bed, on a simple watercolor of rolling hills and meadows, where cows grazed in the bright sunshine. He forced his mind to go blank. Still, memories of his mamm’s last words to his daed screamed inside his head. I love you, my husband. I always will. Love was meant to be eternal. What they were doing was wrong. Marriage was sacred to Verity, something most woman went into after much consideration and prayer. Surely, she required a measure of love from the man standing next to her.

  Did he love Verity? The Englischer life had taught him to respect women, allow them to have a mind of their own, do what they thought best for themselves. He felt affection—but love her the way a man should love his woman? What did he know about that kind of love?

  Albert and her family shouldn’t be selling Verity off to him like a plot of land to be kept in the family. Especially to someone who had more mental issues than she knew about. She has a right to know whom she’s getting. Would she have considered him worthy if she understood the depth of sins he’d committed? Not in a million years. She deserved a whole man, someone who could love her the way her first husband had loved her. She’d compare him to Mark. Who could blame her?

  Solomon moved in closer, stood next to Verity as if to protect her from Leviticus. She might well need Solomon’s protection. He thought of his remaining depression, his temper when riled, thanks to the remains of PTSD.

  “Those Gott has joined together, let no man put asunder,” Otto’s words ended. They were man and wife, Gott help her.

  The room echoed with silence. He looked down, saw Verity’s true feelings written on her face. She was ashen, limp, her lips drooping at the corners. Her eyes swam with tears. She glanced up at him through pale lashes, her glassy-eyed stare unsettling him. She’s shut down. He’d seen men shut down on the battlefield. Hadn’t he done the same to keep what little sanity he had a year ago? He held tight to her fingers, fearing she’d pull away and reject him at the last moment.

  Albert made a noise in his throat. Otto motioned her over. Verity hurried closer to his father’s bed. Leviticus joined her, contemplating their situation. He looked at his father’s face. His eyes were closed, but a peaceful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. A knot in Leviticus’s stomach grew. His father was still alive but could have easily slipped away as Otto spoke words of love and trust over them, joining them as one.

  Otto stepped behind them. “Leave him for now. He needs rest.”

  Verity jerked her hand away and pressed it to her pale lips. She gasped for air and then rushed from the room, the skirt of her plain blue dress flying behind her. He made a move to follow, but Solomon’s hand caught him roughly by the arm. “Let her go, bruder. She needs to be alone.”

  He jerked his arm away. “Nee! She needs me. She’s my fraa now.”

  “Ya, she may be your fraa, but only because her love for Daed forced her into this union. She has no need of you. She needs time to gather her thoughts.” Solomon’s eyes burned with anger, his mouth an unforgiving line of contempt.

  Leviticus hurried out the door and down the hall, all the way to the empty elevators. Verity was nowhere in sight. He looked back toward the hallway, beyond his father’s room. Had she taken the stairs at the end of the short hall?

  He stood on the edge of insanity, alone and without wisdom. He didn’t know how to feel, what to think. He shook inwardly. His shoulders carried a heavy burden of guilt as he made his way back into his father’s room. This marriage arrangement had provided a mother for his tiny daughter, but what of Verity? What had she gained by it? An empty shell of a man.

  Chapter Twelve

  The toe of Verity’s flip-flop caught on the top stair, sending her stumbling across the wooden porch of the old farmhouse. The sun had finally come out, making her walk from the hospital a long hot one. Sweat trickled down her neck, trailed down her spine.

  Catching a ride on the back of Les Yoder’s cart at the edge of Sarasota had been a true blessing. Her mind swirled from the events of the day. She’d remained silent when Les dropped her off at the grove gate and waved goodbye as he drove off. She told him about Albert’s worsening condition, but not that she’d married his soh. The community would find out soon enough, and what would they think?

  Leviticus and I married. How can it be?

  Not willing to let her new husband fill her thoughts, she pictured Albert instead. His shallow, labored breathing still haunted her.

  Will he live? Please, Gott. Let him liv
e.

  She’d learned death was a part of life, something she had to accept as the Lord’s will, but losing the sweet old man was unthinkable. She had her strong faith to fall back on, but what about Leviticus? Was he truly a believer now or putting on an act just to please his father? Try as she would, she couldn’t understand why Gott would want to snatch Albert away, especially now that Leviticus was home.

  She’d never been close to her own father. Oh, he was kind to her and loving on occasion, but he was a hardworking man, someone who gave more of himself to his profession as a cabinetmaker than to his family. She’d been raised predominately by her mamm. As a child, she longed for a father who shared his wisdom and kind heart with her. She found those qualities in Albert when she came to work for him.

  Now I’m tethered to Leviticus, a man who doesn’t love me.

  She entered the great room and called out to Clara. Silence greeted her. She breathed a sigh of relief. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts and calm down before she told Clara that she and Leviticus had married.

  She moved through the familiar rooms of the house, toward her bedroom, and found a note attached to Albert’s favorite chair with a large safety pin. She unfolded the slip of paper and recognized her mother’s neat script. I’ve got the girls with me and will return later in the day. Clara’s gone to the hospital to be with Solomon.

  Perhaps she should have stayed with Leviticus. He was her husband after all. But the day had proven to be too much for her. Running away showed the weak side of her she wasn’t proud of. Albert would have expected more of her now that she was his soh’s fraa.

  Tears blurred her vision. She began to refold the paper and then noticed a scribble in purple marker just under her mother’s message. A smiley face and Faith’s name had been carefully drawn and printed at the bottom of the page. She half smiled. Her sweet girl might have her father’s above-average intelligence, but she had Verity’s terrible handwriting. She tucked the paper in her apron pocket and continued down the hall, past Albert’s room, the back of her hand wiping a fresh tear from her cheek.

  She shuffled through her bedroom door on rubbery legs. Inside, everything was neat and tidy as usual. Her bedroom window was open a crack, the lightweight curtains at her window dancing in the wind. It had been in the low sixties for days thanks to the hurricane, but now it had rained again, and the Florida humidity was back with a vengeance.

  Moments later, a sound behind her made her turn and look. Leviticus stood just inside the dimly lit hall. “When did you come home?”

  “Just now. You shouldn’t leave the main door unlocked when you’re alone.”

  Amish people seldom locked doors, but he was right. “Ya, times are changing. I’ll have to form new habits now that Albert’s not in the house.” She dropped her voice, her words falling off into a deep dark well of misery. She was sure he wasn’t ready to discuss their impromptu marriage or his father’s worsening health any more than she was. She looked up, saw pain etched deep on his face.

  He stood stoop-shouldered, as if he were an old man.

  “Solomon and Clara are with you?” she asked. Inch by inch, she edged toward her bedroom door. Her bare toes curled under as she paused just outside the door.

  “No. I left them comforting each other. Clara mentioned they’d soon be going back to their own place—in a week, perhaps more. The workers are almost finished with the repairs to their house. There was nothing I could say or do to help Daed.” Leviticus looked hard at her, his eyes searching. “I had to come home, see if you were okay.”

  “Of course I am.”

  Their words echoed through the quiet house and died.

  He said what she’d been thinking. “The place feels empty without him, doesn’t it? Like Daed is the heart of this home and without him here there is no home.” He wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, but it was replaced by a fresh one.

  She took a step toward him and then another, compassion and her own pain drawing them together in misery. She grabbed his limp hand. It was cold and trembling. He’d left the grove when his mamm died. Would he leave the grove again if Albert passed?

  Somehow, she found herself wrapped in his arms, his tears dampening her shoulder as he wept like a child. They swayed together as one, grief and concern for Albert tearing away all past angers in that moment in time.

  Her ear pressed against his chest. She heard his heart beat as he took in quick, unsteady breaths. Moments passed. The old clock in the great room chimed. He hadn’t moved in minutes, but his arms were lax now, almost limp at his sides. She took in a deep breath, prepared to move.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, stepping away. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He rubbed at the gristle on his chin, his hand sliding down to grasp the back of his neck.

  “Don’t be silly. You didn’t embarrass me,” she insisted, even though she felt heat warming her face. “You needed comfort. We both did. I love Albert, too, you know.” She cleared the roughness from her voice. “Let me get changed and I’ll fix a quick meal.”

  He looked down the hall, toward his bedroom. “I’m not up to eating right now. I have a headache.”

  “I’ll get you something to drink instead.” She took another step back.

  “Yeah, sure. That would be great.” He ran his hand through his long, tangled hair, went to move down the hall and then turned back around. “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. Okay?”

  Verity backed up against her door, her hand grasping the knob. “Ya, just give me a moment.”

  He nodded and then ambled off, his head down.

  She hurried into her room, shut the door firmly behind her and slipped out of the old blue dress that had become her wedding dress. With little interest in what she wore, she grabbed one of her everyday dresses and left her apron and prayer kapp on the bed. Still barefoot, she hurried into the hallway. Albert would want her to see to his son’s needs now that she was his wife.

  The reality of her situation hit like a ton of bricks. She paused. The wedding... Everything had happened so fast. She hadn’t had time to absorb any of it or come to terms with the new position she held in this household. A jumble of thoughts rushed in, more concerning than before. She turned back toward the opened bedroom door. Would he expect to share that bed with her tonight?

  She shoved her shoulders back and marched away from the bedroom door. “Ya, well. He can think again,” she whispered to the silent hall. “I’m not prepared for any such matters of the heart.”

  The kitchen still smelled faintly of bacon. Leviticus grabbed the pot of old coffee from that morning and placed it back on the gas burner to reheat. Blue flames licked around the bottom of the old metal pot. The brew would be bitter, but he didn’t care. Military life had taught him to like his coffee strong.

  As he moved around the room, he looked out the kitchen window. The wind was kicking up again, wildly blowing a set of white sheets someone had hung on the line earlier. He took down a thick mug from the cupboard, poured the dark steaming liquid in and then jerked out a wooden chair. The mug thumped loudly as he placed it in front of him. His hands were trembling again, his PTSD rearing its ugly head. He tried to relax, forced his breath to be deep and regulated.

  But his mind would not stop racing, no matter how hard he tried to master the art of bringing every thought into captivity as the Bible suggested.

  If only I had a breathing technique for that.

  A headache at the base of his skull thumped hard, reminding him to take one of his little blue pills or he’d be sorry later. The headaches had started in Afghanistan, long before he’d been shot and almost killed.

  Memories of the war flooded in. Running for cover during a barrage of gunfire, he’d taken a fall and hit his head on a rock. He’d seen stars but hadn’t gotten the bleeding goose egg seen to. There was no time. The do
ctors were busy saving brave men’s lives.

  He stared down into the coffee and then slowly sipped, welcoming the unpleasant, bitter taste as something infinitely familiar. He’d experienced a lot of losses the last few years. The loss of his army buddies who never made it home, the loss of his way of life as part of a troop. He was glad when they released him from the army on a medical discharge. No more wars. No more moving. He could give Naomi the stable life she deserved as an Amish child with a mother by her side. But still, the ground didn’t seem solid under his feet. He was attempting to live his old Amish way of life again, embrace old ways of thinking, and some days failing miserably.

  He looked down at his jeans, tugged at the sleeve of his knit T-shirt. It was past time. All this garb would have to go. It was the behavioral changes that would challenge him most. He was a father now, and husband, too. His shoulders lifted and fell. Would Gott show him the way to complete redemption? Could he do right by Verity, their daughters? He pushed the coffee cup away, his stomach too acidic from nerves.

  He ought to be able to relax about Naomi’s future now, but what about Verity’s and Faith’s futures with him as head of the house? His daughter would have a loving mother, a big family who loved her. They’d meet her needs better than he could alone. He and Naomi profited from the marriage, but Verity and Faith had come out with the short end of the stick.

  The kitchen door swung open with a squeak. Verity entered the room wearing a plain dark blue dress without an apron. She approached gingerly and set a stack of clothes on the table next to him.

  “These were Solomon’s things. Clara thought she’d help out and selected them for you a few days ago.” She let her hand linger on the roughly sewn trousers on top of the pile. “The pants may be a bit short. Solomon’s not as tall as you.”

  “Danki.” Leviticus noticed a pair of suspenders tucked under the edge of the pants. They looked new, like Verity had bought them specially for him.