Amish Sweethearts (24 page)

Beth placed the jar on the table and then faced Lila again, her arms crossed. “I thought I would come to love him. That’s
what my parents told me. And I’m guessing that’s what his family told him—if he even asked. We were taught to make a commitment. To respect each other. All of that.”

Lila nodded.

“I never would have left him,” Beth said. “Ever. Even if I never felt an ounce of love along with all that commitment. But he had a different level of tolerance than I did. In retrospect, I wish our parents would have advised us to wait another year. Until we were a little older. Until we’d spent more time together. We never really connected, not in an emotional way.”

Lila’s face grew warm. “Reuben and I have known each other since we were children,” Lila said. And then she added, wanting to change the subject, “I’m surprised your district allowed you to teach.”

“Well, they didn’t. But several years later I moved to an aunt and uncle’s district, with a more sympathetic bishop.” She hesitated a moment and then said, “I had a few bad years—I can tell you that. But after a time I was thankful for what happened to me. It taught me compassion.”

Lila pursed her lips together, wondering if Beth realized that Dat was short on that particular virtue. As she turned to the stove to pull her thoughts together, Trudy burst through the door. “I got to see Zane!”

Lila’s hand flew through her throat, but when she realized Beth was watching her she reached for Trudy’s hand. “On Skype?”

Trudy nodded. “He was wearing his uniform. The camouflage one.”

Rose stepped into the kitchen. “He has a beard,” she said and then grinned. “He looks great. All tanned. His hair has these gold tints. So does his beard.” She laughed. “It’s so funny. He doesn’t have a mustache though. It looks like an Amish beard.”

“Why does he have a beard at all?” Lila asked. It didn’t seem right for a soldier.

“Joel said it’s because he’s on a special assignment. They want them to have beards because the Afghan men do.”

Bewildered, Lila continued with her questions. “Did Shani know they were going to Skype?” Lila couldn’t imagine Shani setting it up while Trudy was visiting.

“No,” Trudy said. “Zane called on his phone as he was trying to get through on the computer. Shani opened up her laptop, clicked on something, and there he was.”

“He was only on base for a few hours,” Rose explained. “He was headed back to the mountains.”

“How did he seem?”

“Gut
. Excited about what he’s doing.”

Lila was glad he was satisfied with his work, but for someone who had once considered pacifism it seemed to be a strange shift for him to be enjoying his time in the Army. She sighed. But maybe that had all changed. She patted the e-mail in her pocket. Maybe he changed even since he’d written to her.

“It’s not like they’re shooting people,” Rose said. “Joel said they’re helping families, whole tribes. Getting them clean water and safer cookstoves. Working with the women so they can take better care of their families.”

Relief rushed through Lila. No wonder Zane was excited about his work. It was perfect for him.

Lila had forgotten all about Beth being in the kitchen, but now she glanced at the woman, self-conscious. Beth was watching her. “Zane is our Englisch neighbors’ son,” Lila explained. “We grew up together.”

Beth nodded, a little too knowingly. “Your father mentioned him.” The woman turned to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of rhubarb punch.

“Go wash up,” Lila said to Trudy. “Dat should be in soon.”

Rose followed her sister down the hall.

“Zane must be a good friend,” Beth said as she stirred the punch.

Lila shook her head. “He
was
a good friend.”

Beth smiled. “You can’t end a
friendshoft
—not if you still care.”

Lila didn’t answer. She did still care. But one had to communicate to have a friendship. She patted her pocket again. Zane had reached out to her. But what purpose would it serve to return his e-mail? Knowing he was doing well—and in relatively little danger—helped her resolve not to communicate with him. Maybe she wasn’t in love with Reuben per se, but they did respect each other. And they were committed to each other. They were nothing like Beth and her husband. Although Beth’s comment about not connecting emotionally did nag at Lila. . . .

She shifted her thoughts. Zane was all right. Maybe he was lonely and needed a friend, but he was fine.

And she would be too, with time.

Two weeks later Lila worked in the shop while Shani and Eve stitched Zane’s quilt in the back room. Mammi was doing well enough to help a little. Lila listened to their murmurs between waiting on customers. Today she’d work all day, and tomorrow she had church and then her membership class. She yawned, tired from working the night before at the Plain Buffet and then getting up early to help with the milking. As she covered her mouth, the front bell rang. Lila turned toward the door.

Beth appeared, taking off her black bonnet. “Hallo,” she said and then smiled. “Your Dat said you’d be working today.”

“Hi,” Lila said, surprised to see her. “What brings you this way?”

“I’m working on a quilt and needed more batting.”

Lila pointed at the far wall and started toward it. “I’ll show you what we have.”

“I also wanted to speak with you,” Beth said.

“Oh?” That was the last thing Lila wanted. More serious talk with a woman she didn’t even know, especially when three women she knew very well were in the next room.

“I’m afraid I shared too much when we spoke about my brief marriage.”

“It was fine,” Lila said.

“I certainly didn’t mean to insinuate that there are any similarities between our lives.”

“No, I didn’t gather that at all,” Lila answered.

“And your father said again, later that night”—the two of them had visited in the living room while the girls retreated to their room—“how pleased he is that you and Reuben are courting.”

Lila nodded.

“I didn’t tell your father this, but I couldn’t help but notice the expression on your face when your sisters mentioned the neighbor boy.”

Lila inhaled sharply. “His mother is here today. Along with my grandmother and Aenti.” She took Beth’s arm, determined to stop the conversation about Zane. “I’d like to introduce you to them.”

As they entered the room she made eye contact with her grandmother. “Mammi, I’d like you to meet Trudy’s teacher.”

“Oh, goodness,” Mammi said, standing. “The famous Beth.”

The woman laughed. “Perhaps infamous.”

“Trudy has told me so much about you,” Mammi said, shaking her hand. “It’s a privilege to get to meet you. What a wonderful surprise.”

“And this is my Aenti.” Lila pointed toward Eve. “And Shani, our neighbor.”

“I’m so pleased to meet everyone,” Beth said. “Trudy has told me about all of you—not to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Eve laughed. “I’m a teacher too. I know how this works.”

“Right,” Beth responded. “I tell parents I won’t believe everything their student says about home as long as they—”

Eve interrupted her. “Don’t believe everything the student says about school.”

They both laughed.

Beth smiled again. “But honestly, Trudy’s said wonderful things about all of you. I can tell she’s a well-loved child.”

Everyone agreed that Trudy was well supported, and silently Lila confirmed that everything Trudy said about home was probably true. As much as Beth had been around their home in the past month, she must have seen the dysfunction of their family firsthand. Although there wasn’t as much drama now with Simon gone.

“What are you working on?” Beth asked, stepping toward Zane’s red, white, and blue quilt.

“It’s for my son,” Shani said.

“The one in Afghanistan?”

Shani nodded.

“How wonderful,” Beth said, touching the topper. “Trudy’s told me about him too.” She glanced toward Lila but didn’t say anything. “I have some extra time today. May I help?”

“Sure,” Shani answered, nodding toward a folding chair leaning against the wall.

The door chimed and Lila hurried back out to the shop, thankful to have evaded Beth’s questions. The woman was nosy, but besides that she liked her. She seemed to have a keen sense of intuition—except for maybe when it came to Dat. Perhaps she was blind, once again, to a bad relationship.

Beth’s story about her marriage made Lila think about her
parents and their first years together. She knew her parents didn’t always agree—but she also knew her father adored her mother and loved her deeply. Her death had wounded him to his core.

Lila continued to work as the other women quilted. Between customers she’d pop into the quilting room. One time Shani was talking about Zane. Another time Eve spoke about her classroom and how much joy the children brought her. Lila was certain her aunt wanted children but hadn’t been able to have them yet. Dat would say God was punishing her for having an Englisch boyfriend during her Rumschpringe and then leaving the church for good and marrying Charlie. But Lila was sure God didn’t work that way. Instead, she was certain he had other plans for Eve and Charlie.

The last time Lila stepped into the quilting room, Beth was gathering up her things. “This has been delightful,” she said. “Do you quilt every Saturday morning?”

“Jah,” Mammi said. “Please join us again. We’d all like that.”

Aenti Eve and Shani nodded in agreement.

Lila walked Beth through the shop.

“Zane’s mother seems like a good woman,” Beth said as they reached the door.

“She is,” Lila answered. “His father is a good man too.”

“How about the son?”

Lila grimaced.

“It’s none of my business, but . . .” Beth peered at Lila, her hazel eyes full of concern. “Life can be complicated, jah?”

“Not so much,” Lila said. “We all have our places. I’ve always known that.” But she hadn’t always believed it. She used to think there would somehow be hope for her and Zane. That by some miracle she’d spend her life with him. That had been when she was a child. She’d grown up since then.

Beth took a long time to say anything. When she finally did, she simply said, “I suppose you’re right.”

Lila waited at the door as the woman left, hoping she wouldn’t say anything to Dat about what she suspected. If she did, her father would encourage her to marry Reuben as soon as possible, probably right after she joined the church.

15

Z
ane hoisted his duffel bag onto his back as he made his way through the crowd of people at the Philadelphia airport. He’d texted from Atlanta that his flight was delayed by a couple of hours, and that he would call and meet them at the curb once he had his luggage. Hopefully his parents had received the text before they left for Philly.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” an older man said as Zane strode by him.

Zane slowed and told the man he was welcome. He appreciated the gratitude, but it always left him feeling a little awkward too. He hadn’t sacrificed that much.

He inhaled deeply as he walked toward baggage claim. So many people. And the smells of the food seemed overpowering. He missed the mountains and fresh air. He missed the thin bread and chutney and Aliah’s gosh-e fil. He missed Jaalal and even Benham, although he certainly didn’t have a relationship with the young man like he did with the grandparents.

In an effort to connect with Jaalal on a deeper level, Zane had shown him some photos of his family and their farm. The higher-ups encouraged it to dispel the misconceptions that all Americans lived fast, self-centered lives. As he went through the photos on his phone, he zipped past the ones of Lila. Jaalal had asked him to go back to those and Zane complied. Jaalal was curious about her, and Zane explained she was Plain. Then he tried to explain the Amish to Jaalal, who couldn’t believe there were Americans like that. Several times he repeated the word
Amish
, as if intrigued by the word. Zane explained their religious and nonresistant beliefs and that they educated their children in parochial one-room schools and pretty much operated like a village, even though they lived on farms spread across the countryside.

Jaalal listened closely and then said, “You like the girl, no?” Zane had answered she was a friend, but Jaalal laughed and said he didn’t believe him.

Yes, he missed Jaalal and his insights and wisdom, but Zane also missed his team—most of them. Sarge. Casey. Wade, who little by little was becoming more of his own man. Not Grant, though. The more Zane connected with the Afghan people the more resentful Grant became. He was as far from civil as possible. He continually made derogatory comments about the Afghan people.

At least Wade was backing off from supporting Grant. There were a few times when he seemed downright uncomfortable with what Grant was saying—not enough to call him on it, but at least enough not to back him up.

Zane swiped his hand across his chin. He’d shaved his beard off once he’d reached Bagram, but he was having a hard time getting used to his bare face. Grant never did stop harassing him about his lack of a mustache, but each time Zane weathered the man’s barbs, he thought of the Amish resilience and
prayed for some measure of hope for the Afghan people, that someday they would know peace.