Simple Choices (8 page)

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Authors: Nancy Mehl

BOOK: Simple Choices
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I gently pushed him away. “I just want you to be happy. He’s your father …”

“Grace,” he retorted, “I know who he is. So does Sweetie. You don’t need to constantly remind us.”

I slumped back down in my chair. Sam went to the coffeemaker, picked up the pot, and carried it over to the table. After taking care of refills, he sat down, too. “I love you,” he said with a smile. “And I respect you. But that’s a two-way street.”

His comment stirred up my indignation all over again. “I do respect you, Sam. How can you say something like that?”

“I can say it because sometimes you treat me like a child, and I’m not your child. I’m going to be your husband. It’s okay to try to help me, but it’s not okay to try to straighten me out all the time. Since I found out who Pat really is, you’ve tried to get your point across by shaming me, encouraging me, tricking me …”

“Hey, wait a minute! I’ve never tried to trick you.”

Sam gave me a lopsided grin. “Oh really. What about that goofy story you read to me the other day from the Topeka paper? About the man who had a fight with his brother?”

“You mean the one where he finally decides to visit his brother and finds out that he’s been dead inside his house for a year?”

Sam nodded.

“I wasn’t sharing that story because of you and Pat. I read it to you because it was just … creepy.”

His right eyebrow disappeared under his bangs, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“Okay, okay,” I said heatedly. “I get it. I really do. No more comments about Pat. But I really do think …”

“Grace,” Sam warned.

“I said
okay
.” I took a sip of coffee. “Let’s change the subject. I’m really worried about Hannah, Sam. Something’s just not right. I really don’t think she’d run away without a word.”

He stared at the table for a few moments. “You know what? I tend to agree with you. Pat doesn’t know Harmony the way we do. I realize Hannah saw something in Wichita that excited her, but to throw away everything she’s believed in her entire life and leave this place and her parents behind? It’s very hard to accept.”

I sighed with relief. “Thank God someone believes me. But what can we do?”

“I don’t know. Let’s wait until Pat goes over to the Muellers’ house. Maybe he’ll find something helpful that will point him in the right direction. In the meantime, what was the name of that boy Hannah likes?”

“Jonathan Vogler.”

“Aren’t they that Old Order family that lives right outside of town?”

I nodded. “Ida said they just recently started going to Bethel. I’ve seen them, but I don’t know them at all.”

“I think I’ll check up on him,” Sam said. “See if he knows anything.”

“Great. Can I come with you?”

“Well, I don’t mean right this minute, Grace. But I will try to find out what I can as soon as possible. Besides, don’t you need to hang around here and wait for your parents?”

I put my hand on the side of my face. “Yikes! My parents. I almost forgot.” As realization dawned, a feeling of dread filled me. “Oh Sam, I promised my mom and dad that Harmony had changed. They think they’re coming to a wonderful, peaceful town. Instead they’re coming to a place full of anger—and most of it’s directed at me.”

“Grace, Harmony is
not
full of anger. For crying out loud, just because Emily’s blaming you for the way Hannah’s acting, it doesn’t mean five hundred people are in some kind of uncontrolled frenzy.”

His frustration made me realize I’d blown the situation out of proportion. “You’re right. I’m just so anxious for this homecoming to go well. You know my parents wanted us to have the wedding in Fairbury. They were both reluctant to come back to Harmony. They only agreed because of me. If they get here and everything is messed up … Well, it just can’t happen, that’s all.” I blinked back tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks again.

Sam reached over and put his hand under my chin. “We need to pray for Hannah, and we need to pray over your parents’ trip. Then you need to trust God and stop worrying, okay?”

I nodded. Sam removed his hand from my face and took my hands in his. We prayed for several minutes. When we finished, I felt better.

“Why do I keep forgetting that God doesn’t want me to worry or fret about anything?” I smiled at Sam. “I’m so thankful I have you to get on my case when I start trying to do God’s job for Him.”

Sam stood to his feet and pulled me up with him. “Keeping you straightened out is my cross to bear, I guess.”

I laughed. “Poor boy. Do you think you can handle it?”

He put his arms around me. “I’m a pretty determined fellow, willing to spend the rest of our lives finding out.”

His warm breath on the back of my neck made me shiver, and I playfully pushed him away. “I need to clean up the kitchen and get ready for my folks. My dad said he’d call me before they left, and I haven’t heard a word. I’m guessing he forgot. I have no idea when they’ll show up.”

“I’ve got some apple picking to do. I could come back when I’m done and wait with you.”

“Oh that would be wonderful. That way I can introduce you to my folks when they arrive. And I wouldn’t have to sit here by myself.”

“Sounds good.” Sam started to walk out of the kitchen, but at the doorway he stopped. Then he turned and frowned at me. “Do I have your word that you won’t spend your time worrying about Hannah?”

I held my right hand up as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”

I followed him out to the front porch and waved good-bye as he drove away. The rising sun spread its colors across the awakening sky with blues, pinks, and oranges. I stared out across the green farmland and lush trees that made up Harmony. But my mind was filled with thoughts other than the beauty of the countryside. Where could Hannah be? Was she safe? I tried to keep my promise and cast my care on the Lord, but uneasiness filled my heart. Of one thing I was certain: no matter what Pat Taylor said, I would do everything in my power to find the young Mennonite girl and bring her home.

Chapter Seven

S
am made it back to my place by two. A little after three o’clock I heard a car door slam outside and rushed to the front door. I flung it open in time to see my father get out of his car. When he saw me, he smiled widely and said, “Hi Snicklefritz!”

I ran down the steps and flung myself into his open arms. Even the use of a nickname I hated couldn’t take away my joy at seeing him. There’s something about fathers and their daughters. I can’t explain it, but every time I see my dad I instantly feel safe.

“Don’t lean on him,” my mother exclaimed loudly. “His leg is still giving him problems.”

I let go of him. “I thought your leg would be completely healed by now.”

“It’s getting stronger every day,” he said. He scowled at my mother. “You hush, Bev. You’re making me sound like an old man. I’m fine.”

“Phooey,” she retorted. She reached into the car and pulled out a black cane. “He still has pain. The break hasn’t healed just right, and the doctor told him to take it easy.”

She came around the car and handed the cane to my dad who took it reluctantly. “Well, bum leg or not, I’m still glad to see you.”

“Me, too, Dad.”

As I hugged my mother, I could smell her perfume. Chantilly. The only scent she ever wore. “I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered to her.

“Not as much as I’ve missed you.”

I looked toward Sam who had come down the stairs and stood watching us. I ran over and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward my parents. “Dad and Mom, this is Sam.”

My father stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “Sam, I’m happy to finally meet you. I’m sorry it took us so long to get together. First I couldn’t travel, and then Gracie spent all those weeks in Wichita. I regret that. I don’t like meeting my son-in-law-to-be only two weeks before he marries my daughter.”

I looked closely at Dad. There was an edge to his voice I recognized. He’s a very civilized man, but I can always tell when he’s upset. Sam obviously noticed, too, because his smile tightened.

“I’m sorry about that, too, sir,” he said. “I would have come to Nebraska to meet you, but it seemed like every time I could find the time to leave the farm, Grace was in Wichita. I hope we’ll have some quality time together before the wedding.”

“I hope so, too.” My father’s serious tone matched his expression. An uncomfortable silence was interrupted by my mother’s cheery voice.

“Well, I’m certainly grateful we’re getting together now.” She shot my father a quick look of disapproval. “We would have come to visit before now, but Daniel’s leg and his attitude toward Harmony prevented it.”

My father started to protest, but my mother hushed him. “Now Daniel, why don’t we let Sam help us with our bags? You need to stretch that leg out, and it wouldn’t hurt you and Papa to take a nap before dinner.”

In the excitement I’d almost forgotten about Papa Joe. My father opened the car door to the backseat and held out his arm.

“’Bout time,” my grandfather said as he climbed out of the car. “Thought you were gonna leave me in there all day.”

“Papa Joe,” I cried. “I’m so glad to see you!”

Although he was frailer and his hair was much thinner, his smile reminded me of the grandfather I remembered. I was thrilled to see the old familiar twinkle in his eyes. I rushed over to hug him. He felt thin beneath his Windbreaker.

“I’m glad to see you, too,” he said.

“It’s Gracie, Dad,” my father said loudly.

I let him go and looked into his face. Didn’t he know me?

“I’m aware that it’s Gracie, Daniel,” he responded brusquely. “I haven’t completely lost my mind.”

My father shot me a quick look. He was obviously concerned, and I felt the same way. The last time I’d seen Papa Joe, I couldn’t get him to talk to me at all. He’d just stared at me as if he’d never seen me before. I’m no expert on Alzheimer’s, but I’d read that people can suddenly seem to snap out of it, and then without warning, retreat behind that black curtain again. Could that be what worried my father?

“Let’s get you inside,” I said, taking his hand. “I’ll bet you’d like to rest a bit before dinner.”

He took his hand from mine and wrapped it around my arm for more support. “I am a little tired,” he confessed. “It was a long drive.” He suddenly stopped and stared at the house. “Oh my,” he whispered. I looked into his face and saw tears well up in his eyes.

“What is it, Papa?”

“I wondered if I’d ever get to see this place again.” His eyes scanned the house and the yard. He pointed to the flower bed surrounded by bricks in the middle of the front yard. “Essie’s irises,” he said, choking up. He swung his gaze back to me. “Thank you for keeping this place, my darling Gracie. Thank you for letting me come home.”

I hugged him, too emotional to speak. But in my heart I thanked God for guiding me to my decision to stay in Harmony so I could be a part of this moment. What if I’d sold the house the way I’d originally planned?

I saw my father wiping his eyes. My mother grabbed his arm and helped him up the steps and into the house. Papa, Sam, and I followed behind them. Thankfully, except for a few changes, I’d kept the inside as close to the way I’d found it as possible. Papa Joe stopped at the large cherry secretary and ran his hands over it.

“This is where I work, Papa.” I opened the rolled top to show him my keyboard that pulled out on a sliding shelf. I also opened the cabinet doors so he could see my flat-panel monitor. Sam had removed one of the shelves so it would fit inside. He’d also added the sliding shelf. I loved the old secretary and was happy I could use it as a work space without compromising the integrity of the design. I’d purchased a padded antique chair that matched the secretary as if it had been made for it. My CPU was tucked away between the side of the secretary and the wall so it wasn’t noticeable.

“It’s beautiful, Gracie,” Papa said, his voice so soft I could barely hear him. Then he made his way over to the rocking chair my uncle had crafted. He stared at it a few moments before lowering himself into it. “Benjamin made this, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Papa. In fact, Harmony is full of his rocking chairs, birdhouses, and bird feeders.”

He smiled. “I taught him how to build those things. We used to work on them together. I’m glad he kept at it. He was very clever with his hands.”

“Papa, why don’t you stay there while Sam and I carry our luggage upstairs?” my dad said.

“I’ve got some cider in the refrigerator,” I said. “I’ll get everyone a glass while you’re doing that.”

“Sounds great.” My father looked at Sam. “Maybe you’ll help me get the bags from the car? Then we can get them into the appropriate rooms.”

“Daniel Temple, you are not carrying suitcases up the stairs,” my mother said sharply. “The doctor told you to rest that leg. Sam looks quite capable of getting our luggage by himself.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to,” Sam said with a smile.

My father grunted. “I guess working on a farm means he should be capable of manual labor.” He glared at my mother. “I’ll go out and show him what to bring in if that’s acceptable to you.”

“Of course it is. And maybe you can work on your attitude while you’re out there.”

My dad didn’t say another word, just headed toward the front door. My rather confused fiancé followed behind him, casting a worried glance my way. All I could do was shrug.

In several phone conversations about my upcoming marriage, I hadn’t caught a hint of animosity. His rude comment about Sam was out of character for my usually well-mannered father. I waited until the door closed behind them.

“What gives?” I asked my mother who stood near the kitchen door with her arms crossed. “Is Dad upset about the wedding for some reason?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea what’s going on. He was fine until we started getting close to Harmony. Then suddenly he began complaining about not having time to get to know Sam before you get married.” She sighed. “I think it’s coming back here again. Bad memories. Then there’s the pressure of watching Papa deal with this awful disease. Give your father a little slack. He’s under a lot of pressure. I’m sure he’ll snap out of it.”

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