The Days of Redemption (44 page)

Chapter Eighteen

As Lovina stood in the shadows of the hallway, listening to Roman introduce his mother and Elsie to his guests, she knew she'd made the right decision.

It really was best to wait to say her hellos.

To her ears, Amanda and Roman sounded a little reserved, a little nervous around each other. Marie sounded hesitant but friendly.

Elsie, on the other hand, seemed especially exuberant and excited.

Lovina smiled at that. Elsie's happy, honest personality helped just about every situation.

As the stilted conversation continued, Lovina leaned her head against the hall wall and smiled softly. It all sounded so ordinary. So right. So like what a “normal” family should sound like.

Lovina heard the kitchen chairs scraping against the wood floor as they were pulled out. She heard the clinking of Marie's good china as she poured coffee and served blueberry coffee cake. Every so often, she heard the high-pitched voice of Amanda's daughter. Questions about the bus trip floated her way, as well as gentle teasing about the daughter's fondness for junk food.

When she heard Amanda chuckle, and then the deep voice of Roman combine with hers, Lovina smiled fondly.

Ah! Young love. There was nothing like that first bit of excited nervousness, she mused. Even when she was ninety, she didn't think she'd forget how giddy she'd been around Jack.

Or how nervous she'd been when she'd first met his parents. She'd probably sounded much like Amanda did now, Lovina decided.

But, of course, she'd been nervous for far different reasons.

She hadn't met Mr. and Mrs. Kilgore in their kitchen. Instead, she'd been drunk and on the side of the road. Ambulances and fire trucks had lit up the street, decorating the dark, narrow road with shades of flashing red and orange.

The garish colors had matched the blood on her hands, the blood that stemmed from the gash on her head. And the blood that had covered Jack. The windshield had cut them both when he'd lost control of his car, then slammed it into a fence on the side of the road.

It was a night of horrors. First had been the alcohol that she'd never wanted to drink. Then, she and Jack had gone way too far in a corner of an empty classroom, which had led her to dissolving into near uncontrollable tears and demanding he take her home.

Jack had agreed, but then Billy Thompson had asked for a ride, too. If she'd just said no to Jack's advances, she wouldn't have needed to leave. And if Jack had just said no, Billy wouldn't have been in the backseat of the car.

Then Billy wouldn't have been thrown from the car. He wouldn't have been . . . dead.

She flinched at the memory, of seeing Billy broken and bleeding.

When Jack's parents had arrived, she'd looked at them groggily, in a daze. Fear and grief and disbelief had mixed with the last bit of alcohol in her system and had caused her to be rendered mute. When they'd leaned over her, she'd only stared back at them through foggy vision.

They'd glared at her as if she'd caused the accident. Then they'd surrounded Jack, comforting him as the paramedics loaded him into an ambulance.

She'd gone in the other ambulance to the hospital for X-rays and fifteen stitches.

Her parents had met her at the hospital. But they'd looked confused by the police reports, not sympathetic. No, far from it.

They'd been disgusted by the smell of alcohol on her breath. And bothered by the stunned look of guilt and sadness she couldn't quite hide.

And, of course, shocked and upset by Billy's death.

She'd been released right away, but her parents had refused to let her go see Jack. “He's in surgery, and his parents said he's in no condition to talk to anyone. He's very upset about Billy. Billy was Jack's best friend, you know.”

“I know,” she said weakly. She'd ached to tell them that of course she'd known that Jack was upset. She'd ached to remind everyone that she wasn't just some girl. After all, she'd been Jack's date for the dance. She'd almost been his girlfriend.

But she'd been too upset to argue. So she'd gone home, carefully unzipped the pretty dress she'd been so proud of, and stepped into the shower.

There, in the privacy of the small space, she'd cried hot tears under a cold spray of water, keeping the water cold on purpose, almost feeling the need to torture herself some more. She'd welcomed how its sting felt like needles on her skin.

Shame and sickness had warred in her stomach, making her realize that it actually was possible to hate herself.

No, she hadn't been able to stop Jack from agreeing to take Billy home. And no, she didn't try to take the blame for Billy's death.

But she had been there. She'd done things she wished she hadn't. She'd learned the difference between the sharp, anxious strike of infatuation and the slow, warm flow of contentment that came with compatibility and love.

When she was dry, she wrapped herself up in a long flannel nightgown, brushed out her hair, and curled into bed.

Then promised herself then and there that she would become someone different. Someone everyone would admire.

And if not admire? At least respect.

A few weeks later, she'd gone out to the country for a day at the farmers' market, and started visiting with a few of the Amish. Later, she'd gotten a job as a teller at the bank. Then, one day Aaron Keim had come to her window and he'd struck her fancy.

Jack's life had changed, too. Because there were rumors that Mr. and Mrs. Thompson were thinking about pressing charges against him, Jack's parents encouraged him to volunteer for the army.

The army had been anxious for volunteers for the conflict in Vietnam.

Stunned that she could still cry about those days after all this time, Lovina wiped the tears from her cheeks and forced herself to concentrate on the Lord instead. How He directed them always to the right place, even when it didn't seem like it at the time. Looking back on all that had happened forty years before, Lovina wondered how she could ever have been so naïve.

She'd been a bright girl—but for a brief moment in time, she'd had her head turned by the smile of a too-handsome man. She'd let her usual common sense get turned on its side for the chance of excitement.

Then she'd realized that it hadn't been excitement that she'd craved.

Instead, it had been the need to feel wanted. Maybe even special.

Never wanting to be in such a position again, she'd given up that craving, just like an alcoholic gave up the taste for liquor.

But, perhaps like the alcoholic, that craving had never completely left her. It had only been tamped down.

Ignored.

“Mommi? Mommi, where are you?” Elsie called out.

Pushing away from the wall, Lovina pinched her cheeks, then smoothed a wrinkle from her dress. Then she stepped forward with smile, just as if she'd only just entered the main house. “I am here, Elsie. What is wrong?”

“Not a thing. Not a single thing,” she replied, all smiles. “I was wondering where you were, that's all.”

“I haven't been far. I never am.”

“I'm glad about that. Oh, Mommi, come on,” she encouraged, grabbing her hand. “You've got to come meet Amanda and Regina.”

Lovina curved her hand around Elsie's but didn't let herself be dragged down the hall. “Before we go, tell me what you think. How are they?”

“Pretty and sweet,” Elsie said immediately. “You're going to like them.” Then she lowered her voice. “But the best part is Roman. Oh, Mommi, you should see how he acts around them,” she commented, her voice bright with amusement. “He is smitten!”

“You think so?”

“He's completely head over heels! He can hardly take his eyes off Amanda. I bet he hardly even realizes that we're in the room.”

Remembering those feelings, of aching for just a few moments of privacy, Lovina chuckled, “I bet he realizes that.”

“Barely.” Elsie tugged. “Come on, Mommi. I promise, you've never seen anything like it.”

Lovina laughed. “Yes, I must see this smitten boy.”

Two minutes later when she saw his face, Lovina knew Elsie had hit the nail on the head. Roman Keim was completely smitten.

In love.

But her favorite granddaughter was wrong—she
had
seen the like. It had been how she'd looked when she'd been taken in by foolish wishes and wants, only to pay the price for it in spades.

And after all that?

Why, she'd made sure she never dreamed about such things ever again.

 

Belize was beautiful, perched right on the Caribbean Sea. Viola spied turquoise blue waters and white sandy beaches as the plane made its approach to Belize City. It looked like nothing she'd ever seen before.

Definitely very, very different from snowy Berlin, Ohio.

Only as the plane was about to land did Viola see an assortment of shacks. Pressing her nose to the window, she saw more disturbing sights. Dirty, cramped narrow streets. Worn-out vehicles and skinny children.

She knew Edward was there because there were people in need. But now, for the first time, she wondered if she was ready to be faced with people whose lives were filled with such hardship.

When she stepped off the plane and followed the rest of the passengers along the tarmac and into the main airport, she felt as if all her senses had come alive. Belize felt hot and humid and smelled of sand and salt and humanity. She noticed both smiling faces and the wary, watchful eyes of men.

She felt small and insignificant. For twenty-two years, she'd been content to manage herself and her family in her small town. She'd felt brave and independent when she'd taken a job at Daybreak. She'd felt vaguely maternal toward her twin, always ready to step in and help her life run smoothly.

But this? It put everything in her past into a new perspective.

A little shiver snaked its way up her spine as her unease grew. What if she wasn't ready to live here? What if it was too big of a change from what she was used to?

How was she going to be able to tell Edward that? And how was she going to live with the knowledge that she wasn't nearly as strong as she'd thought she was?

She kept her head down and followed the officials' directions as best she could. As she walked through the airport, she felt as if her black stockings and heavy winter dress were slowly suffocating her.

Already her neck was sweating, what with both her
kapp
and black bonnet covering her hair.

She felt like such a fool. Ed had reminded her that it was warm and muggy in Belize. But for some reason she hadn't put that information to good use. Instead of packing lots of lighter dresses, she'd merely packed the three that were hanging in her closet . . . each one warmer than the next.

“You okay, Viola?” Karen asked.

Karen had sat beside her on the plane, along with Karen's husband of one day, Bob. Karen and Bob had flown down to Belize for their honeymoon and seemed as intrigued by Viola's reasons for traveling as she was about the
Englischers
' fancy wedding stories.

Karen, especially, had acted delighted when Viola told her about her recent engagement, and Edward's mission. They'd chatted the whole way to Belize, and Viola had been so thankful for their company.

But they weren't friends, of course. There was no way Viola could mention any of the doubts she was experiencing.

“I'm okay.”

“Nervous?” Karen asked.

“I am, but excited, too,” she admitted.

“We'll stay with you until you find your guy,” Bob said as they continued through the customs area.

“Oh, that's not necessary . . . but thank you.” She really didn't want to be by herself in the unfamiliar country.

At last, the three of them were walking toward the main part of the terminal.

“We're almost out of here,” Karen teased. “I bet you can hardly stand the butterflies in your stomach.”

Viola smiled, but was too nervous to acknowledge just how correct Karen's words were.

What if Edward wasn't outside waiting for her? What would she do then?

But then she didn't have to worry any longer because Ed was right there, waiting for her with a broad smile on his face. “Viola! Over here!” he called out.

“Is that him?” Karen asked.

“Oh, yes.” For a moment, all she could do was stare at Edward. Yes, he was still as handsome as she'd remembered.

Bob laughed. “I think you're in good hands now. Enjoy your reunion, Viola.”

“
Danke
. And God bless,” she said quickly before practically racing away from the couple.

She only faintly heard their soft laughs as she skirted around a number of people, then finally got to his side.

“Edward, I made it!” she said with a smile.

“You did. Oh, Viola, I'm so happy you're really here.”

He was beaming. Everything inside her wanted to launch herself into his arms, to raise her chin for a kiss. But of course it wasn't seemly. She made do with smiling into his eyes, mentally comparing his appearance with the one in her memory. Thank goodness, he still seemed exactly the same.

As if Ed couldn't stand not touching her, he reached out and squeezed her hand. “I'm so glad to see you. How was your trip?”

“It was fine.” In truth, her first plane flight wasn't nearly as scary as she'd anticipated. “A nice lady was sitting next to me on the first flight. She helped me switch planes in Miami. And then I was seated next to a honeymoon couple on the way here.”

Scanning the area, she saw Bob hail a taxi. “That's them there.”

“They look nice.”

“Oh, they were. I heard all about their wedding. And then Karen wanted to know all about Amish ones. It made the time go fast.”

He squeezed her hand again. “Viola, I knew you would be okay traveling. You're a strong woman.”