A Clean Break (Gay Amish Romance Book 2) (13 page)

“Ready.” Isaac held up his phone, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration.

With his head up straight, David stood motionless, his hands at his sides. He was wearing one of the new pairs of jeans that were “relaxed,” although with his briefs on he was still rather constricted. Maybe he needed to try the boxers tomorrow.

“You’re supposed to smile. You look as if Deacon Stoltzfus just showed up at your door.”

David did smile at that, even though the pit of his stomach clenched like a fist at the thought of the deacon’s beady eyes and stony face. After they’d pulled Deacon Stoltzfus’s daughter from the river with Joshua, David couldn’t remember ever seeing the man smile. But he vividly recalled his thunderous expression as David had said no to the church.

“Do you want one of the both of you?” an older woman asked.

Nodding shyly, Isaac handed her the phone and joined David. Their shoulders brushed together, and they stood still. Holding his breath, David lifted his lips in a smile and waited.
Does she think we’re gay? Does she
know
we are? Does she care?

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Come on now—try to look like you’re having fun and not lining up for the firing squad. Should I make the faces I do for my grandson?” She stuck out her tongue and went cross-eyed.

They both laughed, and David breathed easily again.

“That’s the ticket.” She handed the phone to Isaac. “Got a good one there.”

After thanking her, they peered at the picture on the screen. They weren’t just smiling—their faces were alight with laughter. David stared at the image. “Wow,” he whispered. “Look at us.” In their English clothes and short haircuts, it was hard to believe it had only been ten days since they’d raced from Samuel Kauffman’s house, past the benches filled with everyone they knew.

The people of Zebulon would hardly recognize them now. David brushed the pad of his finger over the screen, touching their faces. What would Mother say? He shuddered to think.
And I still haven’t written
.

He couldn’t change the past, so David shut away the thoughts as though he was sliding home the heavy bolt on the barn door. He smiled. “It’s a good first picture. Maybe one day it’ll be in a frame.”

“Yes.” Isaac nodded. “I’d like that.” He put his phone away carefully in his pocket.

They started walking, but only got a few steps before Isaac jerked to a stop. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he blurted.

David stared, his pulse already starting to gallop. He could see the fear in Isaac’s eyes, and in the way he gulped in a short breath. David waited as the possibilities tumbled through in his mind.
He’s not happy here. Not happy with me. He wants to go back. He thinks it was a mistake. He—

“I want to go to school.”

Blinking, David took this in. “Oh.” He should have felt relieved, but tension still gripped his spine.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and Aaron talked to the principal—that’s the head teacher—of this school, and even though I don’t have any identification, she said she could make an exception. This school’s different. They make tailored education plans for each student so I can go at my own pace, and I could learn enough to get my GED. It’s a school to help people who can’t go to normal school. I can learn faster there, and—” He sucked in a breath. “Say something.”

“Tailored education plans?” It was English, but sounded utterly foreign coming from Isaac.

“That’s what it says on their page on the computer. I’m going to meet the principal next week, and take some tests.”

“Already?” They’d barely arrived, and now everything was changing?

“I know—it’s really fast. But it’s February now, and the new semester is starting.”

“Semester?” There were so many words here David didn’t understand, even when he thought he should.

“It’s what they call it. They split the school year in half. I don’t know why. But if I don’t go now I’ll have to wait until September.”

“Oh.”

Isaac sighed. “Say something more than that. Please.”

“I…” David stared down at the weathered wood of the pier, nudging a forgotten penny with his toe. Gulls squawked all around, and waves rolled as a boat steamed by, and he felt like the acid in his stomach was swelling like the tide. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure what you’d say.”

There had been times that week when David had napped or sat on the deck outside with a blanket around his shoulders, trying to find the stars. He’d wanted to give Isaac and his brother time alone to catch up and simply be together. Now a sense of betrayal pricked him, even though he knew Aaron was only trying to help. After all, why shouldn’t Isaac go to school?

Because we’re supposed to work together
.

He cleared his throat. “I know Aaron mentioned school, but I didn’t think you were really considering it.”

“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew if I could go or not. I’m sorry.” Isaac sighed miserably. “I should have as soon as I realized it was a real possibility. But I thought you might be upset. And I can tell you are.”

“I’m not upset,” David replied automatically. He played with the zipper on his coat before stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It’s fine. It’s great! I just thought we’d work together again. I was looking forward to it.”

“I know! I was too.” Isaac’s eyes were beseeching, and he stepped closer. “But I’ll be nineteen this year, and if I wait…”

“You shouldn’t wait.” David tried to ignore the hollow sensation that carved through him. “I want you to be happy.”

“You could go to school too. This place takes older students. If you wanted to, that is.”

David thought of sitting in a classroom and reading textbooks. He’d always liked reading the books June lent him, even though he secretly hadn’t always completely understood them. But to go back to school while his debts piled up by the day? “It’s not that I don’t want to learn. But I have to work, Isaac. More than that—I
want
to work.”

The thought of having a workshop again—the scratch of pencil on pad as he sketched, the grind of sandpaper, and the resistance of the lumber as he sawed and shaped it to his will—it filled the spaces in him like water around rocks. Yet when he imagined it now, working alone somewhere in the maze of the city, he ached.

“I know. And I’ll still help you. I can have a part-time job. That’s what they call it.”

David spoke before he could stop himself. “Don’t you like carpentry anymore?” He’d driven Isaac away after the accident, and as the months passed, perhaps Isaac had found he didn’t miss the work.

Isaac’s face softened. “Of course I do, and I learned so much from you. Maybe it’s what I’ll end up doing anyway. But in Zebulon, it was all I
could
do. I was never going to make a good farmer, and I’d always liked carving. It made me so happy to work with you every day. It did. I love doing carpentry with you.”

“You’re not just saying that?” David winced, knowing he sounded pathetic.

Isaac looked around the thinning number of people on the pier before he tugged David’s wrist, took his hand from his pocket, and thread their fingers together. “I’m not just saying that.”

David exhaled a long breath. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s just that now we’re here in the world, I want to discover what else there is.”

It made perfect sense, but David wished he could stop the slivers of hurt from burrowing into him.
Enough. Don’t be selfish
. He nodded and squeezed Isaac’s hand. “Of course.” A gust of wind howled across the water, and he turned his back to it, shielding Isaac from the worst.

“Thank you for understanding. I knew you would.”

“I want you to do whatever makes you happy. That’s what’s important. This is good.” David smiled, trying to forget his fears. Isaac would be happy, and it really was the only thing that mattered. “This is great.”

“In school we learned English and math, and not much else.” Isaac smirked. “I guess obedience was our biggest subject. There’s so much to learn here, and I want to face it head on. I don’t want to be afraid.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m making sense.”

David couldn’t imagine a life of not being afraid. But it was Isaac who’d already been planning to leave when they’d run. He was the brave one. David rubbed his thumb over the back of Isaac’s hand. “It makes sense. I want you to do everything. See everything. You deserve it.”

His eyes imploring, Isaac gripped his hand. “You deserve it too. You know that, don’t you?”

David heard Mother’s plaintive wail to the Lord in his mind. He wasn’t sure what he deserved, but he didn’t want to worry Isaac. He smiled. “Of course. And going to school is the right thing for you to do.”

“You really think so?” Isaac’s breath puffed out as he grinned. “I never imagined I’d get to do anything like this. We’ll find you the perfect place to work, and get you the best tools. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Even if it wasn’t what David had wished for, seeing Isaac so hopeful gave him a surge of confidence. “You’re right. I’ll find a workshop and set up my business on my own. I’ve done it before. I’m sure some of the customers I had with June will still be interested. I can do it by myself.”

“Even if I don’t see you all day, I get to be with you every night. I feel so blessed. I don’t know if God listens to my prayers now after the things I’ve done, but sometimes I think He must.”

Looking into Isaac’s radiant eyes and holding his warm hand, David dreamed it was true.

“David?”

He jerked up from where his chin had fallen to his chest, blinking at Isaac standing by the bed. “Uh-huh. I was just…” He looked at the pen and pad of paper abandoned on his lap.

Isaac smiled softly, reaching out to brush back a wisp of David’s hair. “Sorry to wake you.”

David rubbed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be napping anyway. I’ve only been up a few hours.” Granted he’d woken just after five, which somehow seemed early now. The wooden blinds were open, and the room was warm with morning sun.

“How’s your letter coming?” Isaac asked as he climbed onto the other side of the bed near the mirrors. He leaned beside David against the padded headboard, and their shoulders rubbed. They were both wearing new T-shirts and what the English called sweatpants. Isaac hadn’t put the gel in his hair, so it sat flat against his head, giving him tiny bangs again.

The only words on the page were
Dear Mother
. “Still working on it,” David answered. An understatement if ever there was one. “I thought you and Aaron were having breakfast and spending some time together.”

“We were. But you know you don’t have to hide up here, right? Unless you want some time alone. Which is fine.”

“I know.” Truthfully David didn’t want to be a…third wheel, as the English said. But he’d also been determined to finally get his letter written.

“I meant to ask—is that the side of the bed you like? I guess I’m used to sleeping on the left, but maybe you are too.”

“I had my own bed at home, so I don’t mind which side I take now. I hope you like sharing with me better than Nathan.”

Isaac pursed his lips and tapped his chin. “Hmm. I
suppose
so. But if you start snoring all of a sudden the way he did, I’m pushing you to the sidewalk.” He frowned. “No. The curb. I think that’s how that goes.”

David smiled. “I’ll do my best.” He nodded at the paper in Isaac’s hand. “What do you have there?”

“It’s what I wrote to my parents. I wanted to sleep on it before I mailed it. Can you…?” He held it out.

David unfolded the page. Isaac’s script was tight and neat, as if he’d been concentrating on making every letter perfect.

Dear Mother and Father,

It is hard to know what to say. You all must be hurt and angry at my decision to leave. I need you to know that I did not make this choice lightly. I cannot live in Zebulon or any other Amish place. I prayed on it a lot, and I know in my heart that God has a different path for me.

I was not sure whether to tell you this or not, but I am with Aaron in San Francisco. That’s in California. You should know that he cares about you all very much. He teaches math in what they call a high school, and he has a very nice wife. There are no children yet.

David is here with me. Neither of us wanted to hurt you or his family, but we realized we could not stay. David has been a loyal friend. He helped me see the truth in my own heart. I hope you can forgive us for going into the world. I will write more soon, and if you will write back to me, it would make me very happy. I hope Ephraim, Nathan, Joseph, and Katie are well. Please tell them I miss them. I have enclosed a note for each of them as well.

Your son,

Isaac

David refolded the paper and exhaled a long breath. “It’s good. That was nice, what you said about me helping you see the truth. Thank you.” Although he was sure Isaac’s parents wouldn’t thank him for it.

Isaac smiled. “I didn’t even know I was gay.” He shook his head. “It still feels odd to say that out loud.
Gay
. But without you I’d still be there, miserable and hopelessly confused about why I didn’t want to date any of the girls, no matter how pretty they were.”