Fraying at the Edge (37 page)

“This is a really charming café, isn't it?” Mom smiled while looking around.

Skylar set the steaming mugs on the table. “It is.” She grabbed the cream and sugar off the counter and sat down with them.

“How are you, Sky?” Dad asked.

“Good. Better.”

“Then everything is okay?” he asked.

Everything?
He was kidding, right? She hated the angry sarcasm that churned inside her. It had seemed to melt away in the last couple of months, but here it was again, making her feel like an ungrateful brat. “No, everything isn't okay. But some things are.”

“Sweetie.” Mom's voice burrowed deep. “You said you're better, which is great. Do you mind if I ask in what ways?”

“I'm clean. Completely.”

Dad clapped, making a thunderous sound. “That's great, honey.”

When had she become
honey
to him? He hadn't wanted her mom to have her, and he hadn't given a dime of child support until she was four or five years old. The story she'd heard was that his new wife had influenced him to get involved in Skylar's life. A perfect stranger to Skylar had wielded more power over her dad than she ever had. She longed to mutter, “I'm not your honey.”

Mom reached for her hand. “We wanted to see you before you come back. You know, to make some plans for the future.”

Skylar eased her hand free and slid both into her lap. “So it's true. Despite everything, you didn't manage to get Ariana to stay even three months.”

“She wanted to go home, and we thought maybe you were thinking the same thing.” Her smile quivered.

“Skylar,”—Dad softened his voice almost to a whisper—“now that you're clean—”

“I'm your daughter again?”

He flinched as if she'd hit him.

“You've always been our daughter,” Mom said, her eyes filling with tears.

“Really?” Skylar pulled out her phone and went to the YouTube clip of them singing with Ariana. She turned it toward them. “Look at your faces. Listen to the passion in your voices as you sing to her. She's your daughter.”

Dad lowered his eyes. “She's one of our daughters. You are our daughter also, Sky Blue. And for those times I've not treated you as though you were or as you deserved, I'm so very sorry. I'm hoping you'll forgive me and give me another chance. If I were you and I saw that clip, my feelings would be hurt too. And I'm not sure what to say to help you see how important you are to us.”

Skylar couldn't believe her ears. He was apologizing for being a jerk most of her life? Had his coziness with Ariana melted his frozen heart?

He pushed his coffee to the side. “But your mom doesn't deserve for you to question
her
love and loyalty. She could not have loved you more, sticking to you like glue, enjoying being your mom, working so hard to support your dreams. It sounds as if you're angry at us for sending you here. You're clean now. So I would say this has been a success.”

“Stop!” Skylar was shaking as she covered her ears. “Are you pleased with yourself about this success? Your child, who isn't even yours, is clean. So now you want to return to pretending you care?”

Mom reached across the table, trying to touch Skylar's arm. “Skylar, please—”

“You dropped me like a hot potato, Mom. Did you want to do that, or did you let him bully you into one more thing you disagreed with?”

“I…I thought you were doing well here. Has it been that bad?” he asked.

“No, actually it hasn't. But this isn't about the Brennemans or how I'm doing. This is about you two shoving me out the door, taking everything away from me, and not checking on me once these past three months!” Why was she yelling at them? What happened to not blaming them?

“Sky, honey.” Mom's eyes held disbelief. “You came here instead of rehab, and we took everything, just as we would have if you had chosen rehab. But there are phones, and we were giving you space to call or not call as you saw fit.”

“But I see how it must've looked,” Dad added. “In my mind you pushed us away, Sky. You were angry, told us to give you space, and didn't even want us to drive you here, insisting Quill do that.”

Was that accurate? That's not at all how she remembered it. Then again, she had been high a lot back then.

“We've made mistakes, a lot of mistakes. Me most of all,” he said. “None of them was a declaration that we didn't care about you. We're here now. Let's talk and figure out what
you
need so we can move forward.”

She shook her head. “No. You wanted a new daughter, and you got her.”

Mom wiped away tears. “You can't really believe that's what happened.”

Skylar pointed a finger at her dad. “I think that's what he wanted, and I think you were hopeful about having a clean slate with someone who wasn't me.”

Maybe Skylar was wrong, but his green eyes seemed to hold a truth he would never say—that he and Ariana had bonded in ways he and Skylar never would. Never could.

“I deserve your resentment,” he said. Then he lowered his voice. “I was a jerk to your mom for years, and I ignored you. I regret that. When I look at how I acted, my heart literally hurts. When Lynn and I married, she poked and prodded me until I began to understand how wrong I was.”

“See, I don't get that. Why would Lynn be the one to make you understand that I had some value to you?”

“I…I don't know. I was self-absorbed, and until her children entered my life, I'd never been around children enough to realize how vulnerable they are. Even then I bumbled in being a parent to you. Often causing a lot of pain. I tried to control your mom and you rather than nurture you. That's been made abundantly clear to me, and if I could go back, I'd do it differently. I promise I would. But your mom gladly gave up every opportunity for herself in order to make your life as good as she could. Criticize me if you want to, but you're not being fair to her.”

Skylar hadn't prepared herself for him accepting any blame or respecting Mom, who was crying. Is this what Skylar wanted—to hurt them the way they'd hurt her? Remorse flooded her.

“Mom, I'm sorry.”

She rushed to Skylar and pulled her to her feet. “I love you, Sky Blue. I've missed you so much.” She held her tight. “Not a day has gone by without Gabe saying how the house feels so empty without you.”

That felt good to hear, but Skylar was sure Cameron never said anything like that.

Skylar hugged her back. “I love you too, Mom.” At least she thought she did. She wasn't good at understanding what it meant to truly love someone. Still, it was the right thing to say. “But I don't think I'm coming back anytime soon.”

Mom grabbed her shoulders and backed up, staring into her eyes. “What?” She looked at Dad as if to say, “Fix this!”

Had he been more of a support to her mom over the years than Skylar knew?

He stood. “I've changed, Sky Blue. I'd like a chance—”

“I can't.” Skylar should hug him, but all she managed was a brief smile. “I appreciate it, though.”

“Is this your way of rebelling against me?” he asked. “Ariana is returning to this nightmare of a religion, and you're choosing to stay?”

Was it? “I don't think so.”

“I can't imagine any other reason you wouldn't want to come home.”

“I'm not fully sure why either, except this has been a fresh start for me, and I'm not ready to leave.”

“So you're staying with the Brennemans?”

“No.” She would, except that Ariana, the queen of everyone's heart, was returning in two weeks. Emotions were light and merry.

Dad choked up. “Where will you go?”

“I don't know.” That was the great question. She had no interest in returning to college and no interest in pursuing a career onstage. “I only know what I'm not going to do. I'm not coming back right now.”

A
riana pushed the last straight pin into place, weaving its sharp tip between the fabric of her cape dress and black apron. Finally it was time to return to Summer Grove, nine months ahead of Nicholas's original time line.

“Yep.” Cameron was sprawled across Ariana's bed, her head propped up on her hand. She lowered her eyes, flipping through the photo album they'd made together. “When you arrived, you looked just like you do now.” She reached out and nudged Ariana's open and almost-full suitcase. “You emerged as if you'd traveled through time to get here.”

Cameron could be depended on to be honest at all times.

“Yeah, I get that time traveler thing a lot. But God is timeless, and evidently so are the Amish.” Ariana moved to the full-length mirror, checking to see if everything was in place. Her reflection was jarring. Emotionally she felt modern, slightly traveled, and decently informed on numerous topics, but she looked puritanical and severely religious. She inched forward, staring into her eyes, and she suddenly felt at odds with herself.

Who was that young woman peering back at her?

Maybe a better question was, why did she feel so different now that she had on her Amish clothes? It had taken three months of extraordinary effort and patience to win the right to go home. And she felt weird.

“Cameron.” Ariana moved closer to the mirror, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl she used to see. “Is it normal, you know, for the Englisch to be unsure exactly who they are?” She didn't think it was for the Amish, or at least it hadn't been normal for her. Decisions and viewpoints were limited to two choices: the right one as set forth by the Amish church and the wrong one as set forth by any views outside of the Amish church. That's how she'd regarded everything until recently. Now each subject splintered into a thousand viewpoints, many with reasonable validity.

Cameron sat upright. “Are you second-guessing whether you want to go back?”

“No. Of course not.” Ariana held her gaze in the mirror, asking herself that same question. Pleased at the measure of reassurance she felt, she lowered her eyes. Still, even without looking at herself, she felt displaced somehow. The odd feeling began a few days ago, or maybe it began the day she arrived. “I long to go home, but I'm second-guessing every thought I've ever had about life in general.”

Cameron pulled her feet onto the bed and crisscrossed her legs. “I'm lost.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Ariana opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of neatly folded black stockings, none of which she'd worn in months. “Whatever thought comes to me these days, I immediately counter it with oppositional data.”

“Like?” Cameron studied her, listening carefully.

Ariana tucked the stockings into the suitcase. “When I woke up today, I was looking forward to attending an Amish Sunday meeting, and,
bam,
I was struck with memories of what I've read concerning home churches and the negative effects of obsessive dedication. Then I thought how wonderful it'll be to come under Daed's authority again and, later, Rudy's, when we marry. And,
bam,
I was hit with a dozen facts about giving up my autonomy, a word I didn't even know existed until I came here.”

“The horse blinders you grew up with have been ripped off. You've been forced to see the world around you, and you've learned that everything has multiple sides. Welcome to the new millennium. That sort of stuff happens to me all the time.”

Ariana plunked on the bed beside her. “Yeah, I guess I now have a gazillion new ways of viewing myself, religion, people, and even God. It's not much fun, is it?”

“My grandpa always says getting old is no fun, but it's better than the other option. Having so many new ways of looking at things may not be much fun, but it's better than the other option—knowing only what you've been told. I would rather wade through a ton of ‘oppositional data' and use it to decide for myself what I believe.”

“And if a person just wants those thoughts to leave her alone?”

“I guess she'll do her best to tune out anything outside her chosen area of focus. That part will get easier once you're back inside your insulated life, right?”

“I don't know. Nicholas calls it a filter of analytical thinking. Some of the books refer to it as freethinking. Whatever it's called, I'm not sure I'll ever make it stop.”

“But it'll grow fainter. You'll just need a little time.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Ariana picked up the photo album and flipped through the pages. The images of Berta's sons and their families made her heart raw. They were good men, and Berta had much to be pleased about, but the consequences and devastation from the sons leaving the Amish made it seem more like an act of war than adult children merely moving away.

“You okay?”

She turned the pages, seeing the Schlabachs celebrate birthdays and holidays as if they'd never been raised Amish. “Something keeps nagging at me, and I can't figure out what it is.” She tapped her finger on a picture of Quill. He was in a porch swing, clearly unaware his picture was being taken, and he looked peaceful. “I bet he would know what's eating at me.”

“Call him.”

She shook her head. “No. Like a lot of things, I need to figure this out on my own. I'm just not sure I know myself well enough to figure it out anytime soon.”

“See, that kind of talk worries me. Maybe you're going back before you should.”

“Ha.” Ariana nudged her shoulder into Cameron's. “Not soon enough is the problem. The answer is to go home and begin anew the only life I've ever wanted.”

“Maybe. My dad has a cardinal rule: even if something is legal, I have to be old enough to know myself before I'm free to make a decision that has sticking power—like getting a tattoo or quitting school. Neither of those things has the kind of sticking power that joining the Amish faith and getting married does.”

Cameron's words tightened around Ariana's neck. She drew a deep breath, trying to settle her frazzled nerves. Why was she just as nervous as she was thrilled about returning home?

Ariana stood and put the album in her suitcase. “It's a transition, and they are always hard.” She felt really anxious in leaving behind, at least for a while, this world and the people she'd come to love. In some ways she was leaving them forever.

Cameron shrugged, looking sad. “Just about the time Princess Jasmine understands her new world, she leaves it.” She wrapped her arms around her bent legs. “I'll miss watching movies with you.”

“Ditto,” Ariana said. “Come visit me as soon as I get permission, okay?”

“How long will that take?”

“I doubt even the bishop knows the answer to that. I'll go through a proving time, and the length will be determined by how well I do or how well they think I'm doing. Probably six months or more.”

“That's not very long. Can I bring a generator with me? I'm not sure I'd do well without electricity or movies for an entire evening.”

Ariana exaggerated a sigh while closing her suitcase. “Kids these days.”

Someone tapped on the open bedroom door, and when Ariana turned around, her Englisch parents were standing there, looking vulnerable and resigned. Skylar had refused to return home to them, and now Ariana was leaving.

She lifted the suitcase off the bed and set it on the floor. “There's a bright side. I talked to Susie last night.” Ariana pulled her cell phone from the hidden pocket of her apron and held it up. “Skylar is still living at the house and working at the café. Maybe that will give us a chance to get to know each other. And with a bit of time, I can find ways to assure her that you love her and want her to come home.”

It was easy for Ariana to see where Brandi and Nicholas had made mistakes that left Skylar feeling abandoned and unwanted. But they loved Skylar just as much as if she were their own child. Ariana believed that as strongly as she believed in Rudy's love.

Nicholas and Brandi began a sentence at the same time and then stopped. “You first,” he said.

Brandi looked from the suitcase to Ariana. “I was going to ask the obvious—if you had packed everything.”

Ariana's parents were as changed as she was. They easily yielded the floor to each other, and they were supportive rather than combative. They hardly reminded her of the people who had been at each other's throats when she arrived.

“This isn't the end, guys.” Ariana looked each in the eyes, trying to assure them of her words.

They nodded.

“Once I've gone through the proving time and joined the faith, I'll have more freedom to invite you to visit. When I'm married, you can come to my place, and I can come to yours.” At least she hoped it worked that smoothly.

As far as the church and community were concerned, Nicholas and Brandi had a long list of strikes against them—threatening to sue the Amish, having sway over her as her biological parents, and living in sin with their new spouses. The church leaders wouldn't consider her relationship with Brandi and Nicholas to be the same as most interaction between Amish and Englisch friends. It would be more complicated, with more objections to her having contact with them. But it could be done.

And may God help her navigate these murky waters if the church leaders learned that Nicholas was an atheist. Did God want her to cut him off because he wasn't a believer? She didn't think so. What better way for Nicholas to see that faith has value than to witness it in a believer's life? But for a while, maybe for always, the church would see to it that Ariana and her Englisch parents didn't have complete freedom to visit each other. Still, with Rudy's support, the church leaders' permission, and careful steps, Ariana was sure they could make periodic visits.

Brandi fidgeted with a dangling earring. “I'll hear from you about the wedding next fall, if not before, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

Ariana was sure Rudy wouldn't mind her extending wedding invitations to her Englisch family. Not a lot of Englisch were invited to Amish weddings, but a few were. For some reason, attending Ariana's wedding was very important to Brandi. Ariana doubted Nicholas would come, not because he didn't love her, but because he did. Since he felt she would be stripping herself of all her reasonable rights, he would be hard pressed to attend her wedding. She had yet to understand why she enjoyed his company when he was so far off base about things. Maybe God had placed that fondness for him in her heart.

She put her hands on Brandi's shoulders. “You aren't losing me. I'm moving away, and you will come when I get married and have babies and at other times too. But Amish life is what God intended for me.”

Nicholas picked up her suitcase. “You always have a place with either of us. Know that. And don't let what the church teaches keep you there out of fear.” He shifted, looking more perturbed than sad. “Remember all that we talked about. How to analyze and think independently.”

“I won't forget.” How could she? But Ariana was weary of being talked to about life and God in ways that drained and challenged her. She longed to get back to Summer Grove.

She had said her good-byes to her stepsiblings at a family gathering last night, an event that included both households—Brandi's and Nicholas's. She turned and waved at Cameron. They had said all they knew to say, and Cameron wasn't a hugger. Cameron returned the gesture, and Ariana walked down the hall of Brandi's house. Gabe was at the bottom of the stairs, watching his wife more than Ariana. This had to be difficult for a man who loved his wife so much and only wanted to make her life better.

Once they were beside Nicholas's car, Ariana hugged Brandi and Gabe, and then she got into the car and waved as he drove them away. During the drive Nicholas talked about different aspects of the long trip they'd made together and some of the things he'd learned from her. She prayed for him—silently, of course. He talked about his regrets with Skylar and how vicious his regret would be if Skylar never gave him a chance to make up for his years of apathy and hardheadedness. Finally they entered Summer Grove.