The Days of Redemption (8 page)

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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

BOOK: The Days of Redemption
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“I know, Lorene.” He felt terrible for her. She'd always knocked heads with their mother, and had always come out the loser in their battles.

“Have you talked to Sam yet?” she murmured. “He'll have plenty to say, too.”

“I'm going to go see Samuel next.”

“You don't need to. I'll tell him and Mary Beth when I get off work this afternoon. I'll stop by their
haus
on the way home.”

“I hope he'll want to join us.”

“He will. And we'll need to call the others.” Her eyes widened. “What do you think Jacob is going to say?”

As the eldest of the six of them, Jacob had borne the brunt of their parents' criticism. He'd moved to Indiana the moment he'd met his wife. Peter could remember him coming back only a handful of times over the last twenty years. “Only God knows the answer to that, I'm afraid. But something tells me that Jacob is not going to take this well.”

“He won't, and neither will Aden or Sara.” After glancing to her right to make sure no one was eavesdropping, she murmured, “We're a dysfunctional lot for a reason, Peter. I only hope this news doesn't throw us all into a bigger mess than we're already in.”

She was teasing, of course. But there was more than a grain of truth to what she was saying. Each one of them bore the scars of their parents' interference and constant putdowns.

She closed her eyes. “Peter, when I think of what she put me through with John Miller, I want to scream.”

“John Miller?” He tried to place the man—and Lorene's relationship with him. “He's the woodworker, right?”

“He used to simply be a woodworker. Now he owns one of the most successful businesses in Berlin, Miller's Fine Furniture. He must have fifty people working for him.”

“I've seen the store, but I didn't know you had ties to the owner.”

“I don't. I mean, not anymore. John and I tried to court, but Mamm made me stop seeing him because she didn't think the Millers were good enough.”

“What was wrong with them?”

“John's mother passed away when he was young, and his daed never really recovered from it, I'm afraid. John and his twin brother, Thomas, were always the kids who needed a shower, who needed cleaner clothes. . . .” She shrugged. “They'd needed a lot of things, I suppose.”

Frowning, Lorene added, “I knew that I wasn't any better than John, but I was too afraid of making Mamm upset with me for the rest of my life to go up against her. So I began to have doubts about him.” Quietly, she added, “Finally, I pushed John away.”

“I'm sorry, Lorene.” Yes, it was becoming increasingly obvious that each one of them had gone to a great deal of trouble to try to keep up appearances that the Keims were one of the finest families in the area.

It would be humbling for everyone to finally discover the truth—that they were no better than anyone else.

And perhaps a great deal worse.

chapter six

After Lorene clocked out, she decided to find her boss before she hitched up her buggy and drove home. “What do you know about John Miller?” she asked Frank without preamble.

Her boss knew just about everyone in Berlin, and everyone came to him for information about people or places, or even the history of the town.

Which was why he didn't seem surprised by her inquiry and put down the box he was carrying to calmly consider her question.

“John Miller? Hmm . . . Well, he has a mighty
gut
business. It's Miller's Fine Furniture, you know.”

She'd known that, but had only recently discovered the news. There were so many families with the last name
Miller,
she'd never connected the down-on-his-luck man she once loved with the well-run business. “Is he married?”

Frank thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “I don't think so. Don't know why, either.” He shrugged. “Guess the Lord hasn't decided to bless him with romance yet. Why all the questions? Are you wantin' furniture?”

“Maybe.” She looked around. “Frank, do you know if Kim is still here today?”

“I do. She's in the office.”

“Danke.”

Two minutes of conversation gave her the answer she needed. Kim would be happy to drive her over to the furniture store, then back to the store so she could pick up her buggy and head to Peter's. And she could leave within the next few minutes.

That was all the news Lorene needed to confirm her sudden plan. She wasn't going to waste another moment wondering about what could have happened with her and John Miller.

Fifteen minutes later, Kim had parked her sedan and was popping open a can of soda and slipping a book out of her purse. “Take all the time you want, Lorene. The only thing I've got waiting at home is laundry. I'm happy enough to sit here in the car and read.”

“Thanks.” She exited the car, and walked up to the store. As soon as she entered, she was charmed by the smell of lemon oil and freshly cut wood.

“May I help you?” A lovely blond-haired girl about Elsie's and Viola's age approached as Lorene gently closed the door behind her.

Here went nothing. “I'm looking for John Miller. Is he in?”

“Mr. Miller?”

“Yes. There's a personal matter I need to speak to him about.”

Still looking doubtful, the girl turned around and went into a back room. “He'll be right out,” she said when she returned.

“Danke.”

Then, out came John Miller and her heart seemed to race. His blond hair was shorter than she remembered, but his posture was just as straight and proud. Furthermore, his cheeks were still clean-shaven, signifying that Frank was right—he'd never married. And even from across the room, she noticed that his eyes were as mesmerizing as ever, a dark green as deep as the forest.

He strode toward her, his handsome face looking professional and calm. But then he stopped and stared. “Lorene?”

“Yes. Hi, John.”

He approached her far more slowly. So slowly, she felt like he wished he were walking backward. So slowly, the girl who worked for him couldn't seem to concentrate on anything else but the two of them.

When he was about two feet in front of her, he stopped. Looked her up and down. “Katie said you had something to say of a personal nature. What could it possibly be?”

His tone was cool. His expression was mistrustful. And after all this time, full of hurt.

Her mouth went dry, and she felt twice the fool. What had she expected? That he was going to see her and run into her arms?

She backed up a step. “You know what? I think I just made a big mistake. Bigger even than the one I made ten years ago. I'm so sorry, John. I mean, I'm so sorry to trouble you.” Turning, she practically ran to the door.

It didn't escape her notice that John didn't try to follow. Well, what had she expected? She'd practically made it a lifelong pursuit to avoid him for the last ten years. Had she really thought he'd suddenly pursue her now that she'd shown up to talk to him?

Was she truly that full of herself?

As she slowly walked back to Kim's car, Lorene wondered if she was far more like her mother than she'd thought.

“I just don't understand why Ed is so stubborn,” Viola exclaimed. “And argumentative! Every time I say something, he acts like he's getting ready to disagree.”

Giving their aunt Lorene a not-too-subtle look, Elsie paused in her stirring. She and her twin were putting together a big dish of macaroni salad while across the kitchen, Aunt Lorene was chopping squash and sweet potatoes for a casserole for supper. Sam and Mary Beth and their children were coming over.

“I saw that look,” Viola quipped.

“What look?” Elsie replied, not too innocently.

“You know . . .”

“It could be that we're a little busy at the moment,” Lorene murmured. “The moment I got here, your mother was putting the roasters in the oven.” Yes, everything in their house was in a great uproar, thanks to her grandmother's revelation. Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells, too.

Except for Elsie. She seemed to be greatly amused by Viola's complaining. “Sounds like Ed made quite an impression on you,” Elsie said.

“A bad impression.”

“Perhaps,” Elsie said with a secret smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Only that you seem to mention this man a lot. I mean a lot, considering that you don't care for him too much.”

“I like his father. And I worry about him. Here he is spending every evening in the retirement home instead of his own house.”

“Didn't you tell me Mr. Swartz didn't want to leave the retirement home while Edward was here?”

“Well,
jah,
” she said grudgingly.

“And, though I haven't met Mr. Swartz, I've gotten the impression that he doesn't do much he doesn't want to do.”

“He's no pushover, for sure.”

Elsie added the last of the macaroni and stirred. “Then why are you upset about this?”

“I'm not upset. I am just saying that I think a son ought to do more for his parents. That's all.”

“Viola, I have to agree with your sister,” Aunt Lorene said, her voice laced with merriment. “You can't seem to stop talking about Edward Swartz. And so far nothing he's been doing sounds terrible. Every person has to go out and make their life. I imagine his life in the mission field hasn't been an easy one.”

“Probably not. Though I don't exactly know what he was doing over there. His letters to his father talked mostly about the vegetation and weather.”

“Maybe you should talk to him about that,” she said as she pushed one casserole dish to the side, then began chopping up stalks of celery.

“Oh, right.” She looked up as her aunt's tone finally filtered through. “You're teasing me.”

“Just a little bit,” Lorene said in that gentle way of hers. “And, there's nothing wrong with being smitten with a handsome man like Ed, who's had an interesting life, too. He sounds
good gukkich
.”

Viola felt her cheeks heat by the comment. It was true, she did find Edward terribly handsome. She also liked how he was no pushover. He stood up to her easily and kept her on her toes. But she'd hoped that she could have kept her feelings a secret for a little longer.

Besides, looks only counted for so much. Hadn't her mother told her that time and again? “I am most certainly not smitten with Edward. He just happens to be on my mind,” she said airily. “I'm only warning you both about him.”

Elsie blinked. “Because?”

“Because he is exasperating.”

Lorene and Elsie exchanged amused glances. “Because?” Elsie asked again.

“Because he's a man who isn't shy about stating his mind. He gives opinions without the slightest bit of prompting.”

Elsie's smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Hmm. Sounds like someone else I know.”

Viola knew this had to be a terrible mistake, bringing Edward's name into her house. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about him! About how he was continually baiting her.

Or about how he'd stayed close to her side the whole time they were walking with those pies in their arms. Or how he'd grinned as his father had stared at the pies like they were the most amazing things on earth.

No matter how difficult she found him to be, there was no denying that he loved his father very much.

“Sorry. I'll stop talking about him.”

“I hope you don't. It's fun to hear about someone new.” After a look behind her, Elsie lowered her voice. “Besides, it's a
verra
nice change from what everyone else is focused on.”

Only because their mother was in the barn, supervising Roman and their father unloading the church benches for next Sunday's services did Viola dare mention the elephant in the room. “Have you spoken to Mommi about being English? I've been dying to know why she's been keeping her past a secret all this time.”

“She hasn't said a word to me,” Elsie murmured. “But I haven't asked, either. I'm afraid to.”

Lorene chuckled. “Viola, has this preoccupation of Edward ruined your mind? There's no way on earth any of us is going to badger my mother about her secret life without the others there, too.”

Viola winced. Her aunt's voice was tinged with bitterness. “Do you think any of your other brothers had any idea that Grandmother was raised English?”

“I promise you, none of us had any idea. We all grew up thinking that our mother was as close to perfect as a person could get . . . and that we would never measure up.”

“Perhaps some secrets should be kept secrets,” Elsie said quietly.

“Not that kind of secret!” Viola said. “Aunt Lorene, is that why Uncle Samuel and Aunt Mary Beth are coming over?”

“But of course. We hope to talk to our parents this evening. No matter what the secret is, it's better for it to be out in the open.”

“I want to be there, too. I think we should all go talk to Mommi and tell her that she has to tell us the whole story.”

Lorene shook her head. “It's not that easy. And because of that, I certainly don't think the two of you or Roman needs to be there.”

“We're not
kinner
anymore, Aunt Lorene,” Elsie pointed out. “We've been affected by this as well.”

Viola piggybacked on her twin's statement. “If all of this comes out in the open, some members in the community will certainly have plenty to say.”

“That is true.”

After another quick glance at the door, Viola said, “Have you talked to any of my aunts and uncles?”

“I talked to Sam and Mary Beth, of course.” Biting her lip, she added, “By now I'm sure everyone else in the family knows. Samuel said he was going to leave messages on the rest of the family's phones.”

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