Ray of Light (14 page)

“But your family can't come with you, miss.”

Though she was trying to be brave, tears pricked at her eyes as she glanced at Elsie. “I guess I better go. All by myself.”

One by one, everyone hugged her. In between hugs, her mother asked her about money and snacks and if she had her new Karen Kingsbury novel to help pass the time.

Her grandparents reminded her to pray.

Roman teased her about being such an independent woman.

Last of all, she was in Elsie's arms. “I'm going to miss you so much,” she whispered into her twin's neck. “I don't know what I'm going to do without you.”

This time, it was Elsie who was the strong one. “Of course you do, twin. You're going to be yourself and enjoy every minute of your adventure.”

Finally, she admitted her greatest fear. “And if I decide it's all not for me?”

“Then you will know that it isn't,” Elsie said with her usual patient manner. “You need to know for sure, Viola.”

A lady in a security uniform cleared her throat. “Miss, it's time to go. You're holding up the line.”

“
Jah
. Okay.” Biting her lip, she waved to them all, then turned and walked toward the many people in their blue uniforms.

And tried not to listen for her family as they walked away.

“You've got a great family, miss,” her escort commented. “It's been a long time since I've seen someone get such a sendoff.”

“Yes. They're
wunderbaar
, for sure.” Had she ever truly realized that?

Still dwelling on her family, she handed the security person her passport and plane ticket, then walked toward the screening station.

Before she started putting her things on the conveyer belt, she turned, trying to catch one last glimpse of her family.

But they were already out of sight. She was completely on her own now. Completely on her own, for better or worse.

Chapter Seventeen

The Pioneer Trails bus had traveled through the night, with frequent stops along the way. Through it all, the rest breaks and the naps and the snippets of conversation, Amanda had felt as if she were in a daze. Well, she would have been if Regina had not kept her on her toes.

While others slept through the stops, Regina had insisted on getting out and exploring the truck stops, waffle houses, and McDonald's. Each one was a new experience for her, and Regina seemed determined to enjoy every locale to the fullest.

While others complained about greasy food or uncomfortable seats, Regina asked for seconds and cuddled close. When some men grumbled about the colder temperatures, little Regina had beamed when Amanda placed her new pink cardigan over her dress, saying that the cooler weather necessitated it.

Yes, Regina Yoder was a champion traveler, happy and excited. Her mother, on the other hand, was tired.

Mighty tired! Only Regina's obvious excitement kept Amanda from turning cranky. But sometime around two in the morning, when Regina was cuddled next to her, sleeping deeply, and most of the other folks on the bus were sleeping, too, Amanda realized that she was just as excited as her daughter.

And thankful to have something new to look forward to.

After all, it wasn't every day that a woman took a fifteen-hour bus ride north to see a man she'd only spent five days with. And to bring her daughter along, too?

She was a little embarrassed about the trip. Well, not embarrassed as much as hesitant to tell the strangers on the bus about her private business. So she kept to herself more than usual, and was thankful no one pushed her for information when she answered their questions in a vague way.

Sure enough, dawn had come, the rising sun bringing with it yet another chance for a quick breakfast, and an excellent way to see the countryside. She and Regina had passed the last two hours looking for different state license plates.

Now they were only twenty miles away from the Berlin German Village Market, where Roman had said he would be waiting for them in his buggy. Nervous flutters had begun to dance in her stomach as soon as they'd entered the state of Ohio. Now that they were so close, she wondered how she was going to appear calm and relaxed when she and Roman came face to face again.

Or when she met his whole family!

What would they think of her? she wondered. Would they be eager to meet her? Or instead wish that Roman was interested in someone a little younger, or at least a woman who hadn't been married before?

Or maybe even they wished he was seeing someone who didn't have a child.

Knotting her fists, Amanda frowned. One would have thought she would have outgrown such nervousness. After all, she'd already been married and had buried a husband. It's not like she was an anxious teenager.

Regina tapped her on her arm. “Mamm, did you see all the snow outside?”

Craning her neck over her sweet daughter's white
kapp
and black bonnet covering a pair of braids that had long since started to fray, Amanda gazed at the huge expanse of hills and valleys covered with a thick blanket of snow. “It's pretty, indeed. Why, it looks just like the clouds have come to visit us.”

As Amanda hoped, Regina giggled. “Do you think we're going to get to play in the snow?”

“Of course. I'm sure Roman will let you play in it as much as you want.”

“I can't wait to roll around in it. And make a snow angel.”

Her daughter had been fascinated by snow angels ever since she'd seen a picture book of Amish children playing in the winter. “I'm sure you will make a mighty fine snow angel.”

“And then I want to see Roman's horses.”

“You will. He's coming with a van and driver. We'll get to his farm quickly.”

“I want to see his cows, and the chickens. Oh! And the pigs, too.”

The older couple they were traveling next to laughed. “Just wait until you smell the farm animals, Regina. That's when you might change your mind. And snow is cold. You might not like that much at first. It takes some getting used to.”

“I'm going to like it all,” Regina stated confidently. “I'm sure of it.”

Amanda felt Regina would like it. She had always been a happy girl, and eager to try new experiences—or at least she had until Wesley had died. Her father had been like that, Amanda recalled. He'd been an easygoing man. The very best of husbands.

“Look,” Anna, the Mennonite lady next to them said, pointing out the window, “We're almost there.”

Once again, Amanda craned her neck. Then gulped as she saw the green sign stating that they were now in Berlin.

“You're going to love it here,” Anna said.

“We're only here for a short visit,” Amanda replied quickly. Though she wasn't quite sure if she was assuring Anna or herself.

Regina started bouncing up and down in her seat. “Settle, child,” Amanda cautioned.

Then, all too soon, they had arrived at the German Village Market. For the next few minutes, Amanda busied herself with gathering all their belongings and making sure Regina was bundled in her scarf, black bonnet, and thick wool coat.

“Let's go,” she finally said. Leading the way down the aisle, into the sunny day that beckoned through the doorway of the bus, they were met with a burst of cold air.

“Brrr!” Regina said.

“Indeed, child,” Amanda replied with a tight smile. “It is cold and snowy and sunny. All at the same time.”

“Amanda? Regina?”

She turned to find Roman striding toward them, an intriguing combination of smiles and confidence.

Her pulsed started racing as Regina pulled away from her hand and scampered to Roman. She told herself it was simply because she was no longer holding on to her daughter.

Roman picked up Regina and spun her around. Regina squealed happily.

And then Amanda felt short of breath. Surely that was due to the fact that it was so cold her breath was a puff of vapor in front of her lips.

But when he settled Regina on the ground again, then started forward, looking at no one else but her, Amanda knew she couldn't fool herself any longer.

She was foolish and delighted and excited and happy—all things that had been absent from her life for much too long.

She held the feeling tight and hoped it would stay deep in her heart for a very long time.

Or at least for a few hours.

 

“Peter, I need you home again,” Marie said into the phone, wishing—not for the first time—that they had to go to a phone shanty like the Old Order Amish. Though she was grateful not to be out in the cold, she privately thought that having a phone in the kitchen sometimes created more problems than it helped. It was a struggle to have a private conversation in the busiest room in the house.

“I know my being gone is hard on you, but the therapists say I need to stay here a little while longer. No one wants me to have a relapse.”

She was so frustrated she felt tears prick her eyes. “So you're sure you have to stay?”

He sighed. “You know coming here wasn't an easy decision for me. I don't want to leave until they say I'm ready.”

“I know you don't,” she said around a cough.

“Marie, are you sick?”

“It's just a little cough. It's nothing.”

He paused. “Marie, you have to know I wouldn't wish this on you. I know you're having a difficult time. But I have faith in you. You are a strong woman, and I have a feeling that you are doing a
gut
job keeping everything together—even with a cough,” he teased.

She smiled in spite of herself. “I'm doing my best. I don't know if it's good or not.”

“I'm sure you are doing great.”

His confidence in her felt good, but Marie ached to lean on him. Usually, they'd end each day going over things, rehashing discussions they'd had with the kids or with friends or other family members. She'd grown to rely on that time to reflect on the way she or he handled things. “I hate complaining to you.”

“Complain all you want,” he murmured. “You've earned that right.”

Just because she was strong didn't mean she wanted to be strong all the time. And just because she knew it was all right to complain and whine, well it didn't make her feel any better. If anything, it made her feel like she was living a lie. Here, everyone in the family thought she was being supportive and kind.  . . .

But inside, she was harboring a multitude of secret complaints. The worst of which was that she resented Peter for leaving her to deal with everything.

His voice as smooth as silk, Peter prodded her to open up more, “Why don't you tell me what's going on?”

“Roman is picking up the woman he met in Florida right now. And Viola left for Belize.”

“How was she when you dropped her off?”

“Excited, but nervous.”

“That sounds like our Viola.”

She smiled, enjoying his comment. Then, she steeled herself. “And, ah, it turns out your father was married before and had a child.”

“What?”

“Oh, yes. He only met your mother after they passed away. Peter, did you know about any of this?”

“
Nee!
Not at all.”

“Well, it was news to all of us, too,” she said.

“What happened? Did he say?”

“He didn't tell us much, but I went and asked him for more information. And,” she added proudly, “after a bit of hemming and hawing, he told me a bit more.” Briefly, she told him about how Aaron had met Laura Beth and Ben, how they died . . . and about how Laura Beth's family blamed him for her death.

“Maybe that's why he married Mamm and moved away.”

“Maybe so.”

After a pause, he said, “What else is going on?”

“Nothing besides preparing for Lorene's wedding.”

He whistled low. “That's enough, I think.”

“Indeed.” She twirled the telephone cord around her finger and chuckled, enjoying their conversation.

“How are the livestock? Have the seeds come in that I ordered for spring planting?”

“I don't know.”

“What do you mean? Marie, that's our livelihood.”

Sometimes men were so dense. “Come now, Peter. You know I haven't had time to think about plants. You'll have to ask Roman or John or Sam about that.”

“Please ask them and let me know next time I call.”

“I'll try. But please, try to come home soon.” Closing her eyes, she felt full of regret. She didn't want to be this kind of person. But it was as if the devil had gotten ahold of her and was making her say things where before she'd only thought them.

A clatter jangled outside the kitchen window, followed by Elsie's happy cry. “They're here!”

“I must go, Peter.”

“Oh. Well, all right . . . I'll try to call you again soon.”

“Don't worry about calling. Just get better,” she snapped, then immediately felt contrite. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound so terrible. I'm just feeling overwhelmed.”

“I know. Hey, Marie?”

“Yes?”

“
Ich liebe dich
.”

Her heart softened. “I love you, too.”

“Soon, this will all be in the past. Try to remember that.”

“I'll do my best,” she said wearily. She knew he was right. But she feared she was just about at the end of her rope.

She needed her husband. She needed her partner, her helpmate back. Quickly.

Lord, what was happening to her? Opening her eyes, she looked across the room and spied Lovina lurking in the doorway. It was obvious that she'd been eavesdropping.

Marie wished she would have been surprised. “I guess you heard me talking about Aaron and Laura Beth and Ben?”

Twin spots of color lit her cheeks. “I . . . I did.”

“Peter needed to know,” she said in a rush.

“I agree. If I've learned anything over the last few weeks, it's that some secrets come back to haunt us. It's better to talk about things.”

As they heard the van doors close, Marie pointed to the door. “I better go out there.”

“
Jah
. I . . . I think I'll wait here. No sense in us all descending on poor Amanda.”

Feeling wearier than ever, Marie turned away and started walking outside. Ready to greet their houseguests . . . and to pretend that everything was a wonderful as it ever was.