Amish Sweethearts (13 page)

Sunday afternoon, after they’d all returned from church, Lila took the buggy over to her grandparents’. Trudy had wanted to come, but Lila told her to stay home and rest. The girl had a cold, and Lila didn’t want her to get worse.

The day was overcast, but the temperature had warmed up some and the road was slushy, causing droplets of ice to fly against the windshield of the buggy as cars sped by. Lila pulled the horse to the right, onto a side road to take the back way, hoping to save him from being pelted. By the time she reached her grandparents’ house shadows were already falling.

She unhitched the horse, put the blanket over him, and then knocked on her grandparents’ front door. Finally Dawdi opened
it. He wore slippers and a rumpled sweater and seemed a little out of sorts, as if she’d woken him.

“Were you napping?” she asked as she gave him a hug.

“No.” He tugged on his gray beard. “Just resting.”

“Simon said Mammi left a message.”

“Jah,” he answered. “She did. Friday afternoon.” He turned toward their bedroom. “I’ll wake her.”

Lila had never known her grandmother to nap. “Is she all right?”

Her grandfather kept walking. “I’ll let her explain,” he said over his shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Lila sat down in the rocking chair. A cold cup of tea sat on the coffee table next to her grandmother’s Bible and a box of tissues. Perhaps her grandmother had a cold too.

Her grandfather left the bedroom and stepped into the kitchen. The water ran for a moment, followed by the hiss of the gas and the burst of the flame, just as her grandmother stepped out of the bedroom. She wore a housedress and her gray hair was in a single long braid, nearly to her waist. Lila had never seen it down.

Her grandmother’s hand went to her throat.

Lila stood, alarmed, and hurried across the room. “Mammi? What’s wrong?”

When she reached her, Mammi leaned against Lila. “Oh my. You looked like your mother for a moment, rocking in my chair.”

Lila’s heart pounded as she stood and led her grandmother to the sofa and sat down beside her. She sensed her grandfather watching, but he didn’t join them.

“Simon had just been born when she was the age you are now.” Mammi’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ve always looked like her, but never more than just now.”

Sadness spread through Lila. She knew she resembled her mother. Rose looked like Dat’s side of the family while Trudy
favored their mother too. Mamm had never told Lila what her biological father looked like. Eve had known him, but she never talked about him either.

“Simon said you called.” Lila was eager to change the subject.

“I did.” Mammi took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “I had some tests done, before Christmas. I got the last of them back on Friday.”

“Tests?”

“Medical tests.”

Lila’s heart raced. “What kind?”

“A biopsy.” Mammi paused. Lila wanted to put her hands over her ears. Her grandmother sighed. “I have breast cancer. I wanted to tell you first, before the other children.”

That’s what their mother had died from. “What stage?” Lila managed to squeak.

“Four.”

Lila wrapped her hands around her grandmother’s bicep and clung to her.

“It’s not a death sentence,” Mammi said. “I’m older than your mother, which in this case is actually a good thing.” Lila quickly did the math. Her grandmother had been twenty when Lila’s mother had been born. Her mother would now be thirty-eight if she hadn’t died. Mammi was fifty-eight.

“Breast cancer usually grows faster in younger women,” Mammi said. “And remember your mother didn’t start chemo until after Trudy was born.” Mammi patted Lila’s hands. “Our insurance is good, so we don’t have that concern.” The Amish didn’t buy insurance, at least not most of them. They relied on mutual aid—helping one another out in times of medical emergencies, but as Mennonites her grandparents could buy insurance.

“Your Dawdi will go talk with your father tomorrow and explain. And talk with him about telling Trudy. Rose too.”

“Simon’s leaving soon.”

Mammi nodded. “I’ll tell him and Daniel. The three of you are grown now, I feel all right talking with you. But I wanted your father to know before we tell the younger ones.”

“All right,” Lila said.

Mammi took Lila’s hand. “I also wanted to let you know that I shouldn’t have pressured you about the job. Before I knew I was ill, I thought having you here would be good. I thought I could spoil you some before you marry and have a family. But I’m glad you declined. I don’t want this to be your burden.”

A sob rose up in Lila’s throat. “Oh, Mammi,” she said. “What about the shop?”

“We’ll hire another girl. We’ll manage. I’ll have chemo after the surgery.”

“When is the surgery scheduled?”

“It’s not yet—first they need to make sure my heart is strong enough for surgery.”

Lila leaned closer, breathing in Mammi’s lavender scent, still clinging to her arm. “Do you have heart problems too?”

Mammi shook her head. “A heart murmur is all. It’s a standard procedure to run some tests.”

A rustling from the kitchen stopped the conversation. Dawdi came toward them with mugs on a tray.

As they drank their tea Mammi said, “I asked the doctor, and he said my having cancer doesn’t mean it’s hereditary. It’s a different kind than your mother’s.”

Lila nodded. She hadn’t even thought of that.

Mammi took her hand. “No matter what happens, I want you to know I’ve had a good life. Losing your mother broke my heart, but you children have brought me so much joy. And I’m grateful to have had this life with your grandfather. I’ve had the privilege of loving him for forty years.” Mammi squeezed Lila’s hand. “I pray for that for you and Reuben, for a marriage of love and respect. For years of happiness too.”

“Thank you,” Lila managed to say, fighting back her tears. She thought about talking with her grandmother about Zane for a split second but decided not to. That would only burden Mammi, and that was the last thing she needed right now. “You’ve had a good life, Mammi, and you have decades more of it to go.”

Mammi squeezed her hand. “I hope so.”

Lila left after she finished her tea, and as she drove home she forced herself not to think about what her grandmother had said about loving Dawdi, that it was a privilege. Instead she thought about her grandmother not wanting her to move in with them now—not wanting Lila to care for her.

But that was exactly what Lila wanted to do. She felt more herself with her grandmother. More connected to her mother. More the woman she thought she might have grown into if her mother hadn’t died. More confident. Less worried about what others thought.

Mostly though she wanted to take care of her grandmother. She
needed
to care for her. Simon was right. It was time for her to do something
she
wanted.

The day after New Year’s, Trudy was well enough to go to school. Lila drove her, lost in her thoughts about Mammi again, trying to figure out how to approach her Dat. It had been three days since she’d spoken with her grandmother, but she still hadn’t come up with a plan. She had a goal though—by the time Mammi had her surgery, she wanted to be living in the cottage with her grandparents. She wanted to care for Mammi. It was up to her to make it happen.

Trudy prattled away. “I wonder if the new teacher will really be as strict as everyone says,” she said once the school was in sight.

“That’s right,” Lila said. “I’d forgotten she was starting today.”

“Will you come in and meet her?”

Lila squinted into the morning sun. “Sure,” she answered and smiled at her little sister.

The new teacher was middle-aged, probably around forty. Her hair was streaked with gray, and she was a little plump. As Trudy turned shy and half hid behind Lila, the woman’s hazel eyes brimmed with kindness and dimples flashed as she smiled. “Whom do we have here?” she asked.

Lila took her little sister’s hand and pulled her forward. “Tell her your name.”

“Trudy Lehman,” she answered.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” the woman said. “I’m Elizabeth Yoder. But please call me Beth.”

Trudy nodded.

“We’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Lila said. “I’m Trudy’s sister. Her other sister, Rose, sometimes brings her and picks her up. And our Dat too.”

“Excellent,” Beth said. “I look forward to meeting the whole family.”

“I have two brothers too,” Trudy said. For a moment Lila feared she was going to tell Beth that Simon had joined the Army, but Trudy stopped.

A flash of concern passed through Beth’s eyes, as if she just realized that Trudy didn’t have a mother. “I have two brothers also,” Beth said. “But I bet mine are quite a bit older than yours.”

That made Trudy smile.

Beth met Lila’s gaze. “Come in anytime you want. Before school, after school, the middle of the day. You’re always welcome.”

“Denki,” Lila responded and then bent down and kissed Trudy’s cheek. “See you after school.” She headed out the door and then hurried down the steps. She liked Beth. A lot. It would be good for Trudy to have an older teacher—to have someone around the age Mamm would have been if she’d lived.

8

Z
ane stopped on the sidewalk outside one of the gyms, dreading going in. The Texas sun warmed his face. He turned toward it. It was the middle of January and the forecast was for a high of seventy.

Fort Hood stretched out in front of him. He’d never get used to how flat and brown the landscape was. Like the dry back of a Texas rattlesnake. True, way off in the distance along the horizon were some hills, but they were just as brown. He slipped his cap from his head, shoving it into the side pocket of his uniform as he pushed through the doors into the cavern-like warehouse. Zane’s unit and scores of others had to update their paperwork, make sure their vaccines were current, and that all their legal documents were in order before deploying. Squinting, he scanned the signs around the room, found the one for vaccinations, and stopped at the end of the line.

A half hour later, he stepped out of line to try to gauge how much time he had until he reached the front. He’d hardly
made any progress. At this rate, it would take all day to check on his shots.

“Hurry up and wait, huh?” Casey said as she bumped into him.

“Yeah,” he answered.

She’d pulled her dark hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, the exact same way Lila wore hers—minus the white Kapp. Casey’s camouflage cap was neatly folded and slipped into the side pocket of her pants. Just like his. And her neat-as-a-pin jacket was buttoned over her brown Army T-shirt. Camouflage looked good on her. Better than it did on him. She embraced the Army more wholly than anyone he knew.

His first day back from home, she’d said how much she missed him and hinted at an interest in a closer relationship. He’d quickly said that he was very thankful for her
friendship
, emphasizing the word. He’d been relieved she’d only hinted and then dropped it. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend.

“How many shots do you have to get?” she asked.

“I think I’m all caught up.” He grimaced. “I hope.” But he needed to have his paperwork rechecked and approved.

“What are you up to tonight? Reading?” She teased him a lot about how much he read.

He shrugged.

“Want to come out with us? We only have another week until we’ll all be forced to become teetotalers.” It was another thing she liked to tease him about. That he didn’t drink.

He shrugged a second time.

“Seriously, Zane. You should work on shedding your holier-than-thou rep before we deploy.” She
wa
s serious. “You’re not endearing yourself to the other guys.”

He met her eyes. “Thanks for your concern. I get it. But I’m not going to go to a strip club with them in the name of bonding.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to a strip place—I promise. Just one of the local dives. We’ll play some pool. It will be fun.”

“One problem,” he said. “I’m not twenty-one.”

She shook her head. “Right. And you’re probably the only twenty-year-old on base without a fake ID.”

“Was the Army supposed to issue me one?” He smiled. “Because if they were, someone dropped the ball.”

“Stop it,” she said. Casey had just turned twenty-one, but he was pretty sure she’d had a fake ID before that. “Maybe we could all meet at someone’s house. Would you come then?”

“Probably.” He saw her point about bonding. He did get a weird vibe that some of his team had a problem with him.

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, but he ignored it.

“Go ahead,” Casey teased. “I don’t mind. I’d do the same to you.”

It was a photo from Simon, showing a close-up of his shooting range target—his bull’s-eye was practically a black hole. Zane frowned. Simon had been texting him constantly since he got his new phone. Another buzz and a photo of an evergreen tree covered with snow came through.

A pang of homesickness shot through Zane.

“Gonna share?” Casey teased.

He turned the phone toward her, to show her the tree, just as the phone buzzed again.