Tracie Peterson (37 page)

Verse twelve caught her attention and stayed with her throughout the days that followed. “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” That’s how she felt. Like she was seeing God and the world through a dark, smudgy glass. There were parts that seemed glorious and too wondrous to speak of. Like Messiah and God’s ability to forgive. There were also parts that seemed clouded and vaguely open to understanding. Like eternity and Messiah’s coming and whether her people had been wrong to reject Jesus.

Sitting as close to the kitchen stove as possible, Darlene worked at her sewing and allowed her thoughts to drift to Pierce. She hadn’t seen him in weeks and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d already left for Chicago. He’d said that he loved her, but apparently there was nothing more he could say or do, for he’d never written or come back to say more. Perhaps it was just as well. They lived in two very different worlds.

Darlene tried to imagine him at home. No doubt the comfort of his wealth kept him from too seriously considering his love for a Jewess. Still, he had asked her to come west with him. He’d promised to help her and Tateh. A shop in Chicago! She tried to envision it. Pierce had said it could be as large as she liked. How wonderful it would be to plan out such a thing. She would make all the rooms on the ground floor so that her father wouldn’t have to trudge up and down the stairs. She’d put their rooms at the very back and make it so that the shop could be completely closed away from the living quarters. And they’d have huge fireplaces and stoves to keep the building warm.

A loud knock sounded on the downstairs door, causing Darlene to nearly drop her scissors. She put aside her sewing and hurried down the stairs.
What if it’s Pierce?
she wondered and smoothed back her hair with one hand while adjusting her shawl with the other.

She peered through the window shade and was surprised to find Esther standing on the other side. “Esther, it’s freezing outside; you shouldn’t have come out!” she chided.

“It was colder in the old country. I can bear a little cold,” she said, hurrying through the door nevertheless. She held out a covered pot. “It’s soup for your father. I’ve heard it said he is ill.”

Darlene took the pot. “Yes, he is. He’s bedridden and I’m afraid it will be a long, slow recovery. The doctor says he’s sick with consumption.”

“Feh!” Esther spat out in disgust. “He is sick because he has angered God!”

“How can you say such things?” Darlene asked angrily. “Did my father not provide for you when you had nothing?”

“It is true enough, but he had not forsaken the faith of his ancestors then. Now he has and God is punishing him for his waywardness. Mark my words, Darlene, you will fall into corruption and be lost as well. Don’t think I haven’t heard that you keep company with the
goyim.
You will be forever lost if you turn from God.”

“I’m certain that is true,” Darlene replied. “But neither I nor my father have done that.” She paused and some of the anger left her. “Esther, have you never wondered about Messiah?”

“What’s to wonder? Messiah will come one day and that will be that. Of course, we should live so long!” The wind picked up and played at the edges of their skirts.

Darlene shivered and she knew that Esther must be cold. “Do you want to come upstairs and talk?”

“No,” Esther replied. “Rachel and Dvorah are helping me to make a quilt for Mrs. Meyer.”

“And you didn’t ask me to help?” Darlene tried not to show how hurt she was. She would no doubt have begged off anyway.

“It is better you decide your loyalties first. There’s been a great deal of talk about you and Avrom. You should set yourselves right with God and seek His forgiveness. Then we will talk again.”

“But my heart is right with God,” Darlene protested. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You are the daughter of your father. Avrom’s house is in danger because his heart is corrupt with
goyishe
reasonings. You must convince him to repent and then perhaps God will heal him of his afflictions. Don’t forget about the sins of the fathers being revisited upon the children.”

“And just what are you saying by that?”

Esther’s forehead, already wrinkled with age, furrowed as she raised her snowy-white brows. “Only that you are close to corruption by staying here.”

Darlene felt her temper dangerously close to exploding. Exhaustion was making her bold and unfearing. “Tateh has God’s wisdom and a peace of soul that I have yet to find in our congregation. We say that Messiah will come and make all things right, and I’m telling you that Messiah may well have already come to try.”

Esther put her hands to her ears. “I’ll not listen to anymore. You’re a
meschuggene
just like your father! Better you should leave him now!”

“No, I won’t desert him like everyone else. It was good of you to bring him soup. I will bring you back the pot later tonight.”

Esther seemed to have nothing more to say and quickly left the shop. Darlene took the soup upstairs, poured it into her own pot, then put it on the stove to keep warm. She went to check on her father and found him awake and seemingly better.

“Tateh, Esther has brought you some soup. Would you like some now?”

“No, just come and sit with me,” he said in a weak voice. “I would tell you some things before it’s too late.”

“Shh, Tateh! Don’t say such things.”

Abraham tried to sit up, but he was too weak. Falling back against his pillow, he reached out a hand to Darlene. “Please hear me,” he said, breaking into a fit of coughing.

She took his hand and sat down on the edge of his bed. He looked so very old and fragile now. Once her Tateh had been a pillar of strength and she looked to him for the courage she lacked. Now, she wished with all of her heart that something could be done to help him. But the doctor said there was nothing to be done. Nothing could help rid him of the consumption that seemed to ravage his lungs.

Darlene waited in silence, not moving so much as a muscle lest she cause him to cough even harder. He struggled for breath and finally the spell subsided. “I’m going to a better place,” he said softly. “You must promise me that you will not be afraid.”

Darlene knew better than to argue with him. “I promise,” she said, wondering if she could really keep her word.

“And another promise,” he whispered.

“What is it, Tateh?”

“Promise me that you will think about Jesus. I don’t want to die knowing that you might forever be lost.”

Tears came to her eyes as she hugged his hand to her face. “I can’t bear for you to talk about death. I can’t bear to think of life without you.”

“Jesus is the true Messiah. I want very much for you to know that. Don’t be afraid of the world and the things that would hide the truth from you.” He began coughing anew and this time when the attack subsided, there was blood at the corners of his lips.

“I want to know that Jesus is truly the Messiah,” she said. Tears fell upon his hand as she kissed it. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“We’ll never be parted again if you accept Jesus as your Atonement,” he said in a voice filled with as much longing as Darlene felt in her heart.

“What must I do?”

Abraham’s eyes seemed to spark with life for a brief moment. “You must only ask Him into your heart. Ask His forgiveness for your sins, and He will give it to you!”

Darlene thought of this for a moment. A peace filled her and she knew in an instant that it was the right thing to do. There was no image of Pierce or her dying father, or the ugliness of her friends and neighbors; there was only this growing sensation that this was the answer she had sought all along. Jesus would fill the void in her heart and take away her loneliness.

“Then let it be so,” she whispered. “I want Jesus to be my Savior.”

“Baruch Ha-Shem,”
Abraham gasped and closed his eyes. “Blessed be The Name.”

Darlene saw the expression of satisfaction that crossed her father’s face. It was as if a mighty struggle had ceased to exist. Was this all that had kept him alive? Was this so important that he couldn’t rest until he knew Darlene believed in Jesus?

Outside the wind howled fiercely and Darlene remembered that she needed to return Esther’s pot. “Tateh, I must go to Esther’s and take back her soup pot. I won’t be gone but a minute.”

“Wait until tomorrow,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“I think it might well snow before then and I’d rather not have to go out in it. I’ll only be a few minutes and besides, no one will bother me. Ever since that day when Pierce and I were accosted by the rowdies, I’ve had the assurance of Willy and Sam that we’d be safe. They even keep an eye on the building in case anyone wants to vandalize it. I think they’re the reason our so-called friends haven’t broken any more windows in the shop.”

Abraham drew a ragged breath and opened his eyes. “Then God go with you.”

She leaned down and kissed his cold, dry forehead. “And with you.”

Pausing at the door, Darlene kissed her hand and touched the
mezuzah.
The action was performed as a reminder of how she should always love God’s Word and keep it in her heart. In that moment, it became more than an empty habit. In that moment, Darlene was filled with a sense of longing to know all of God’s Words for His people. She glanced back at her father and felt a warmth of love for him and the Messiah she had finally come to recognize.

“Jesus.” She whispered the name and smiled.

And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.
1 J
OHN
2:17

P
ierce sat with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned—a sure sign that he was hard at private work. Within the confines of his room, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss New York when the time came to leave. When in Europe, home had been all that he could think of. But then thoughts of Eugenia’s demanding ways, his father’s constant absences, and Constance being torn between the two adults she loved most in the world would dissolve any real homesickness. Perhaps it would be the same when he moved west to Chicago.

He looked at the latest letter he’d received from Chicago. He’d hired a well-respected contractor and was already the proud owner of a hotel. Well, at least the frame and foundation were in place. The five-story building was, as the letter put it, enclosed enough to allow indoor work during the harsh winter months. There would, of course, be a great deal of interior work to be done. Pierce remembered the blueprints with pride. The hotel would stand five stories high and have one hundred twenty rooms available for weary travelers. Located close to where packets of travelers were deposited off of Lake Michigan, Pierce knew his hotel would be the perfect moneymaker. And, with more than enough room to expand, Pierce had little doubt he could enlarge his establishment to house more than two and maybe even three hundred people.

Leaning back in his chair, Pierce tried to imagine the finished product. Brick with brass fixtures would make a regal first impression. Especially to that tired soul who longed for nothing more than a decent bed and perhaps a bath. There were also plans for a hotel restaurant, and Pierce had felt a tremendous sense of satisfaction when he’d managed to secure one of the finest New York chefs for his hotel. It had cost him triple what it would have cost to hire a less-experienced man, but Chef Louis de Maurier was considered a master of cuisine and Pierce knew his presence would only improve the hotel’s reputation.

Of course, the fine imported oak and mahogany furniture he planned to ship would be a tremendous help as well. Each hotel room would be supplied with the very best. Oak beds with finely crafted mattresses. The best linens and fixtures money could buy would also draw the better-paying customer. He thought of how there would be many people who couldn’t afford such luxury and immediately thoughts of a lower-priced, less-formal hotel began to formulate in his mind. He could build a quality hotel and supply it with articles that were sturdy and durable, but not quite as fine. Each room could have several beds and this way poorer folks could share expenses with several other people. He could charge by the bed, instead of by the room.
Chicago was going to be a real challenge,
he thought, and scratched out several of his ideas onto paper.

Then, as always happened during his daydreams, Pierce’s mind conjured images of Darlene. He’d purposefully left her alone after suggesting she and her father come west. More importantly, he’d left her to consider that he loved her. He hadn’t intended to tell her that, but there was a desperation in him that hoped such words just might turn the tide. If she knew how he felt, perhaps she would encourage her father to consider the trip to Chicago. And already, Pierce was prepared for just such a decision. He’d managed to locate a doctor whose desire it was to relocate to Chicago. For passage and meals, the man had agreed to travel with Pierce and act as private physician to Abraham Lewy. This way, Pierce was certain that Darlene could find no objections to the idea of going west.

He frowned as he thought of the stories he’d been told by his father. Stories of how Darlene’s friends had turned away from the Lewy family. Stories of how Darlene was forced to sew what few orders she could obtain by herself. He tried not to think of her shoulders bent and weary from the tasks she bore. He tried, too, not to think of her face marred with worry over the health of her father, which Dennison had already told him had been considerably compromised by the cold winter weather.

I love her, Lord,
he prayed.
I love her and want her to be my wife, but I won’t go against You on this. If You would only turn her heart toward You and open her eyes to the need for salvation, I would happily take her as my wife and love her with all of my heart.

“Pierce? Are you in there, Son?” Dennison Blackwell questioned.

“Yes, come in.” Pierce yawned and straightened up.

Dennison opened the door. “I wondered if you would join me for coffee in the library. There are some things I think we should discuss.”