Authors: Gayle Roper
Tags: #General, #Family secrets, #Amish, #Mystery Fiction, #Lancaster County (Pa.), #Pennsylvania, #Love Stories, #Christian, #Nurses, #Nurses - Pennsylvania - Lancaster County, #Religious, #Christian Fiction, #Fiction, #Romance, #Lancaster County
“Or I could tell you I came to apologize for being such an ingrate yesterday.” His voice had become soft and gentle, almost pleading.
I turned my head and looked at him in surprise.
“Can you ever forgive me?” he asked, his black eyes earnest. “You were so kind and I was such a jerk.”
“Sure,” I said. “You’re forgiven. And thanks for the apology.” It was really more than I had expected. After all, I’d been dealing with sick people for years.
He frowned at me.
“What?” I said, irritated. “I forgive you.”
“You make it too easy.” He scowled. “I made your life miserable for twenty-four hours and all you say is okay?”
“I didn’t say okay. I said I forgive you. You weren’t okay. You were rude. You were nasty. I agree. But I forgive you.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I threw back the covers and rushed past him. I slammed the bathroom door and did what my ex-fiance Ben used to call worshipping the porcelain goddess. When I finally pulled myself to my feet, I looked in the bathroom mirror. It was enough to set the gag reflex to work all over again. And I couldn’t even see myself clearly without my glasses.
I managed to brush my teeth and hair. I thought about washing my face, but I was out of energy. I opened the door and made for the bed, hoping to reach it before collapsing. I had just found a comfortable position in which to die when Jake reached out to me with a warm cloth and washed my face for me. He was very awkward about it, and he poked me in the eye once, but I was moved to tears by his action.
Dear Father, what do I do about this man?
“Now, Tiger,” he said earnestly when I was finally settled, “I’ve got to know. How can you forgive me so easily?”
“Because I choose to,” I said wearily.
“But I don’t deserve it,” he countered. “I was a jerk.”
“I already agreed you were a jerk. And who said forgiveness is given because it’s deserved?”
He stared at me, and I suddenly realized that a lot more was at stake than my forgiving him for yesterday.
“Listen closely, Jake, because I only have strength to say this once. Forgiveness is a gift. You can’t earn it. You never deserve it. It is a gift, whether it’s mine to you or God’s to you. Remember those verses Sam quoted?
‘God saved you by his special favor when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it.’
”
I looked into his eyes and willed all the strength I had to say, “None of us deserves salvation or forgiveness. It pleases God to grant it through Jesus. It’s a gift.”
“I can’t buy that,” he said. “It’s too easy.”
“You don’t get to set the rules here, Jake. God does.” I forced my scattered wits to focus. “It all starts with His decision to love us and forgive us. Are you going to tell Him that He can’t offer you forgiveness and grace? Why do you think Jesus died? So we could have another holiday?”
“You’re getting sarcastic,” he said.
I nodded. “I am. I’m sorry.”
I paused, feeling as weak as the proverbial newborn. I lay with my eyes closed, trying to gather the strength to finish stating my position. I was surprised to feel a strong hand press against the side of my face.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Jake said as he stroked my cheek. “We can talk about it later.”
I turned my head into his hand and kissed him. How comforting he was.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I can’t love you,” he whispered back.
“I know.” I smiled sadly. “I know.”
We were silent for a few minutes.
Lord, so much is at stake here! And I am so weak. Help!
I reached for his hand. “Jake, it’s okay to let God call the shots, you know. He is, after all, God.”
His answer was a grunt.
Suddenly I was so weak I could no longer grip his hand, let alone debate theology. He felt my hand go slack and held it between his.
“You’ll be well soon, Tiger. We’re celebrating Thanksgiving today, you know, and Mom’s making a huge turkey. The whole family’s coming.”
The thought of a turkey, usually one of my favorite dinners, made me bilious. Then the rest of his comment hit me.
“It’s Thanksgiving?” I’d lost track through my gray haze. “Oh no! My mother’s expecting me.”
Jake shook his head. “Not today. Definitely not today. You’re not going anywhere. Besides, today’s not Thanksgiving. Yesterday was.”
Yesterday! Mom had been expecting me!
Jake continued, “We’re just celebrating today. Tomorrow’s Father’s birthday, so Mom selected the day in between to get everyone together.”
I looked at my cell phone resting by my glasses on the night table. The very thought of putting on my glasses so I could see and dial the numbers, then explain to Mom why I hadn’t called her exhausted me. I looked helplessly at Jake. “Could you call her for me?”
And why hadn’t she called me? Surely she wondered what had happened to me.
He picked up the cell phone and hit the power button. He shook his head. “Dead.”
Now I knew why she hadn’t called. She was probably beside herself, especially with the bomber still on the loose.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll use my phone.”
Don’t worry. Ha! I gave him Mom’s number, and soon he was talking with her like they were old friends. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Martin. We’re taking good care of her.”
He grinned at me and squeezed my hand. “Yes, she’s very sick. Throwing up all over the place. I feel badly because I think she caught it from me.”
Pause.
“She took care of me yesterday. That’s why she didn’t make it for dinner. You know how involved she gets in her work.”
That was a true statement, though in this case, it hadn’t been the work but the patient.
“I’m sure you tried to call. Unfortunately her phone was dead. Cell phones may be marvels of technology, but they do have this one serious drawback, don’t they?”
I would have been so defensive with Mom, and he was just the opposite. You do catch more flies with honey.
“Your loss was my gain, though I’m sorry you were so worried. But let me tell you, she was wonderful, so kind and gentle. I almost want to get sick again so she can nurse me.”
Now there was a line if I ever heard one.
“You’re absolutely right. She’s a marvel, a beautiful marvel.”
I looked at Jake skeptically. My mother never in my whole life said I was a marvel, let alone a beautiful one.
“How about if I drive her down tomorrow if she’s up to it? That way she won’t tire herself prematurely.’’
What a sneaky way to get to check out my family.
“It’d be fun to put up the Christmas tree. I’d love to help. I can do the bottom.”
Pause.
“I may sound tall, but I’m not. In fact, I’m pretty short these days.”
I rolled my eyes. Talk about black humor.
“Don’t give it a thought. We’ll stop at the hardware store and get a new tree stand on our way.”
Pause.
“It’s no trouble at all. In fact, we’re glad to do it. And dinner sounds like a great treat. Yes, I love leftover turkey.”
I listened to him in a state of semisleep, marveling at his ease with Mom. I fell asleep thinking about how wonderful he was. I woke to a knocking at my door.
I looked up and saw Elam standing there.
“Jake, Mom sent me up because Andy and Sally are here. Also, she thinks you need something to eat.”
“What time is it?” I asked. Neither answered. I turned my head to look at the clock radio and was delighted that I didn’t feel any vertigo. It was 1:10.
Jake nodded. “I’ll be ready to come down soon.”
“You can go now,” I said, pushing myself to a half-sitting position. “I feel much better.”
“Your twenty-four hours are almost up,” Elam said. “If you’ve got what Jake had, you should feel miraculously healed anytime now.”
I watched the brothers leave the room and wondered how long it would be before Esther and Elam were married. This was Amish marrying season, after all.
I napped a bit more and awoke feeling fine. I showered and washed my hair, then sprayed myself with enough perfume and gargled with enough mouthwash to make the sourness of illness but a memory. I even did my nails. I had just finished changing my bed when I heard a knock on my door. By then it was late in the afternoon.
I looked up, and there stood Esther.
I smiled at this young woman so immersed in a culture vastly different from mine, and I realized our hearts belonged to a pair of incredibly dissimilar brothers. Who would have thought, even as little as a week ago?
“Jake and Mary sent me to get you,” Esther said. “They say you must come down before Elam has to bring Jake up again.” She put her hand to her mouth to prevent a giggle from escaping. “I don’t think Elam’s back can stand another trip like that.”
I was nervous as I came downstairs, but the Zooks quickly made me feel part of the party. I met the two Plain married daughters. Sarah, the oldest child, was married to a farmer named Abner, and they had four children. Ruth was the youngest child and was married to Isaiah, a farmer with a penchant for practical jokes. They had one child, a brand-new baby boy named John after his grandfather.
I met the two fancy brothers. Zeke was married to Patsy, the woman he left the community for. He was an electrician and they had three sons. Andy was the brother who left the community over the issue of grace versus works. He and his wife Sally had two kids and went to my church, though I’d never met them before.
It fascinated me how the family was split right down the middle on the Plain/fancy issue but seemed to love each other anyway.
“It’s Mom,” Patsy confided when I mentioned my observation to her. “I know it was very difficult for her when Zeke left for me, but she’s absolutely determined that there not be division in this generation of the family like there was in the last.”
“What happened in the last generation?” Here was a story I’d never heard.
“Father’s brother Jake broke with the church when he was twenty-two over the issue of works and grace. The senior Zooks never saw Jake again, and Father’s seen him only rarely since then, and only when Uncle Jake has come to the farm.”
“John has never initiated the visits?”
Patsy shook her head. “He doesn’t believe he can. And I think it’s hurt both of them deeply.”
“Is Jake named after this brother?”
“Father and Mom never say so, but we kids all think yes. Uncle Jake used to be Father’s favorite brother.”
“I guess shunning keeps the community pure, but at such a cost!”
Patsy nodded and adjusted the dress of the beautiful child she held in her arms. The little one grabbed Patsy’s gold necklace and tried to eat it.
“Whose baby girl is this?” I said.
“This baby girl is Young Abner,” Patsy said with a smile. “He’s Sarah’s youngest. He goes into pants in about three months.”
Just then two of the grandchildren began squabbling over the same toy.
“Oh, dear,” Patsy said. “That’s my Aaron and Sarah’s Jonathan.” She hiked the baby onto her hip more firmly and took a step toward the children. Sarah reached them first and leaned over to talk to her son. In no time, Jonathan held out the coveted toy, which looked like a blue Pockets car to me, and Aaron took it gladly.
Patsy came back to me. “Sometimes I applaud the Plain custom of others always first. Other times I think it makes little monsters of the ones that always get their way.”
“I’ve got a whole collection of Pockets upstairs,” I said. “About sixty cars. Maybe the kids would like to play with them?”
“Sixty cars?”
I glanced at Patsy and saw her questioning look.
“The Sophie Hostetter of Pockets fame used to be one of my patients. She gave me the whole set plus all the accessories.”
“Isn’t she the woman who was killed last week?”
I nodded. “Yes. It makes me so sad. She was a sweetheart.”
Suddenly Patsy squinted at me. I saw the recognition leap to her eyes.
“Mary and John don’t know anything about the bombs or my temporary death,” I said quickly. “I don’t think Elam and Esther do, either.”
“But Jake does?”
I nodded. “He’s become my bodyguard.”
Patsy grinned. “Then you’re in good hands. I always liked Jake, even when he was at his most rebellious. He had a roguish charm that reminded me of Zeke when I first met him. A good boy gone bad and determined to do it well.” She laughed.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about Jake as a bad boy, even though I knew that was the Jake of then, not now. His accident had forced all kinds of changes on him, the least of which were the physical limitations. There were also the life reevaluation, the choice to seek higher education, and the empathy and gentleness learned in the crucible. But it was the spiritual changes that I prayed for most. More than anything I wanted to hear that he’d accepted God’s forgiveness and become a believer.
Dear God, please!
As if he heard my plea on his behalf, Jake turned and our eyes met. He smiled that sweet, charming smile that melted my heart and dropped one lid in an exaggerated wink. I shook my head in wonder as I grinned back.
Patsy saw the wink and smiled knowingly. She looked across the room at her husband who was laughing at something Isaiah the joker had just done. “They wear well, these Zook men.” She glanced at me with mischief in her eyes. “I just thought you’d like to know.”
I smiled and said, “I think I’ll ask Sarah how she feels about Jonathan and her other kids playing with the Pockets.”
It was a very late night by Zook standards, and I went up to my rooms at ten with a warm glow. I had enjoyed the unique experience of being part of a large family gathering. No, to be perfectly honest, I had enjoyed being part of the Zook family gathering.
Oh, Lord, thank You for letting me have today
.
It had been wonderful, even when I sat on Isaiah’s whoopee cushion. Loving these people and loving Jake have made my life so rich. I loved Mom, but it had been just the two of us for years. Being part of this loving group was so exciting, so marvelous. Now how did I stand the agony of losing it all? Jake wouldn’t love the Lord, and he wouldn’t love me. What was I to do?