Amish Sweethearts (27 page)

The doorbell rang, and she hurried back into the shop.

It was the postman.

“You’re early,” she said.

“A little,” he answered as he handed her a stack of envelopes. The one on top immediately caught her eye. It was from Zane. His handwriting. His name. An APO return address.

“Thank you,” she said, placing the envelopes on the counter, shocked a letter from Zane had arrived so soon. She checked the postmark. He must have written the same day he saw her in the shop.

As soon as the postman left, she folded Zane’s envelope in half, slipped it into her apron pocket, and put the rest in Dawdi’s box in the office. He’d be in soon to open the mail and go through the books. Mammi had her chemo treatments on Friday, and Mondays were always her worst day. She wouldn’t be in.

Once the blinds were pulled, the Open sign showing, and the knickknacks rearranged on the counter, Lila patted the letter in her pocket. She didn’t want to be reading it when Dawdi came in—that was for sure. Or if anyone else she knew came in. She took out the piece she was working on for her crazy quilt. She’d chosen blues, purples, and greens for it, using the prints Mammi had given her, and added solid scraps from the dresses and shirts she’d made at home.

Mammi had been right—designing the crazy quilt had given her something more creative to do, and she appreciated the challenge. Not only did she enjoy the piecing of the quilt, but the stitching too, especially the fancier ones like the feather, fern leaf, and fly stitches. Dat had seen her working on it a couple of times but hadn’t asked about it.

That was fine. Otherwise he might have deemed it prideful for her to be putting so much effort into a quilt for herself.

Working on the crazy quilt gave her the same satisfied feeling as memorizing a poem with Zane had. She could feel the
emotion welling up inside as she pieced and stitched, just as she could feel the emotion of the poet come through the words. It gave her a sense of harmony.

Soon she had a steady stream of customers—both tourists and locals. Dawdi didn’t come in until after noon. He said Mammi was resting. “Stop by on your way home,” he said.

Lila shook her head. “I wish I could, but I work at the restaurant at five, remember? You said you’d close up.”

“That’s right,” Dawdi said. Two of their employees were out of town for family reunions. Dawdi headed back to the office. Lila patted the letter again. Even though he usually took at least an hour, she’d wait.

Midafternoon, an hour before it was time for her to leave for the restaurant, Lila heard a wagon outside and the heavy trotting of workhorses. She stepped to the window. It was Reuben with a load of lumber. He parked across the street, hitched the horses, and then came bounding toward her, his hand on top of his straw hat.

She put the crazy quilt piece on the counter and headed to the door, swinging it open for him. “What are you doing out this way?”

He took his hat off. “Making a delivery. I have something I need to say.”

“How about some lemonade first?” She’d packed a thermos full and had only had a cup with her lunch. She pondered over his choice of words. It wasn’t that he wanted to talk—he had something he needed to say.

Lila led him into the quilting room, retrieved her thermos, and an extra cup from the collection Mammi kept on hand. While Reuben drank, the front bell chimed again and Lila helped a woman looking for material to make a quilt for her grandbaby. Lila hoped the woman would take her time, but she made up her mind quickly. Reuben stood in the doorway to the quilt
shop and watched Lila as she cut the fabric, folded it, slipped it into a bag, and then finished the transaction.

When the woman left, he said he needed to get going but first he needed to say his piece.

“Jah?”

“I’ve been thinking about us,” he said. “We’ve known each other as long as we can remember. Now that you’ve joined the church, there’s no reason to wait past fall to marry.”

She liked the idea of marrying Reuben, but the reality of it made her nervous. “What about Daniel and Jenny? I think they’re planning to marry this fall.”

“That doesn’t matter. You won’t need to help them. Monika will see to the details.”

“But Jenny and Monika won’t be able to help us.”

“We don’t need a large wedding, do we?” he asked.

Lila shook her head. Dat wouldn’t have the money for a big wedding anyway. She’d saved some, and she knew Reuben had too. But they’d need help with the food preparation, setup, and cleanup. Simon wouldn’t be around. Daniel would be busy with his own responsibilities. She knew Beth would cook and Eve too, if Dat would allow it. . . .

“Let’s talk about it Sunday night,” Lila said.

Reuben nodded. “I already talked with my Dat some. He said that he and my brothers will do what they can.”

That would help.

Reuben bumped against her, and the envelope in her pocket crinkled. Her face grew warm, and guilt stabbed at her heart.

“I’ve waited a long time, Lila.”

She nodded. “I know. We’ll talk.” After three years of courting, she couldn’t put it off any longer.

The door to the office opened, and Dawdi stepped out with a few envelopes in his hand. “Reuben,” he said, his voice welcoming.

“I just stopped in to see Lila.”

“
Gut
,” Dawdi said. “We always like to see you here.”

Reuben told them both good-bye and left. Then Dawdi told Lila to go ahead, that he’d take over so she could leave.

Reuben wanting to say his piece but not being willing to put the effort into talking reminded her of Dat. It was that disengagement that frustrated her. That unwillingness to put out the effort to listen, to talk, and to share one’s feelings. But then again maybe Dat did engage with Beth. Lila couldn’t imagine the woman investing in another relationship where she didn’t have that.

On the way to the restaurant, once her horse had turned onto the highway, Lila took the letter out of her pocket and opened it.

Zane hadn’t written much. Just that it was good to see her and he hadn’t meant to put pressure on her.

You’ve been pretty clear that you didn’t want to communicate, and maybe I should have left it at that—but I felt compelled to ask one more time. If you decide not to write back, I understand. Truly. I value all of my memories of our childhood above all else. I’m grateful to God for giving you and your siblings to me as neighbors and friends. But your Dat is right. We’re grown now.

I can’t keep clinging to the past. I’ll always treasure it—but I know God will take care of all of us, as he sees fit, in the future. The verse “Be still, and know that I am God” keeps going through my head. Even though it’s a war zone, there is a lot of stillness in Afghanistan. I know God is here as much as he is on Juneberry Lane.

I appreciate your prayers for those times that aren’t so still.

He signed it,
Your friend, Zane
.

That was all. But it filled her heart to have him share so honestly with her.

The horse came to a stop at the crossroads, and Lila glanced up. To her right was Reuben in his empty wagon, waving at her. She waved back and wondered if he could tell she had been reading something. She continued to wave as he turned right and headed back toward the lumberyard and she continued on to the Plain Buffet, feeling guilty for her deception.

On the other hand the letter from Zane filled her with relief. He seemed so much more settled than when he joined the Army. Maybe they really could just be friends. Perhaps there would be no harm in writing him back.

Once she had her horse taken care of, she headed to the break room. Mandy came rushing in behind her. “I’m so glad you’re working tonight. I just had a text from Simon.”

“Is everything okay?”

“He’s doing great.”

Lila shook her head. Mandy and Simon were like two peas in a pod. Both overly optimistic—that was for sure.

“How’s your soldier doing?” Mandy asked.

“He’s not
my
soldier.”

The girl grinned.

“But it sounds as if Simon is yours.”

“Yeah, well, don’t spread it around. I haven’t figured out how to tell my parents. But I really like your brother—a lot. I think I might even love him.”

Lila tried to smile. “I doubt you know what you’re getting into—but I’m sure you can handle yourself, and him.”

“Your time will come,” Mandy said. “Long before mine does. Unless I end up leaving the church sooner rather than later.”

Lila nodded. She couldn’t imagine Simon ever coming back home now. It would be a big transition for Mandy, but she had
the spunk to leave the Plain way of life. Besides, she already knew how to drive a car and use technology.

Lila would never leave. And it wasn’t just that she was baptized now. She’d never wanted to leave.

The peace from her baptism still held her. It was the right thing to do.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Now the verse was running through her head too.

Still she couldn’t help but envy Mandy—that she could love someone so effortlessly, without worrying about the future.

And that Simon clearly loved her too.

Reuben showed her that he loved her—but he’d never actually said it. She felt it shouldn’t bother her, but it did. Words mattered to her, but not to Reuben.

Lila didn’t intercept the next letter. It came two weeks later, and Dawdi delivered it to her. Thinking fast, she said, “It’s probably a thank-you for the quilts Mammi sent with him.”

She’d written a short reply to Zane’s first note, simply saying that it had been good to see him too, asking how his transition back had gone, and how the weather was. She’d said nothing of importance, nothing about him writing again.

Dawdi hesitated a moment, as if he expected her to unseal it in front of him. Instead she folded the envelope and slipped it into her pocket. This time she couldn’t wait to open it, and on her break she slipped out the back door to water her horse. Thankfully there was a note to Mammi, Eve, and Beth, thanking them for the quilts and blankets and describing how happy the mothers were to receive them for their babies. Lila exhaled as she read, grateful that the women had made more blankets—mostly receiving ones with the edges serged because that was faster. She’d sent them the week before.

Next was a letter to Lila. He had received her letter.
It came out to the field with a package from my mom,
he wrote.
Thank you for writing. It means a lot.
He didn’t mention how shallow the letter had been—and she appreciated that, remembering their many conversations from when they were younger that were anything but shallow.

We’re at base for two days—enough to shower, wash our clothes, and get a few good meals, or as good as they get. I know you’re still feeling standoffish with me, and I get that. Both Simon and Daniel told me you’ll marry soon. Reuben’s a good man. You’ll do well together. I know you don’t feel as if you can be transparent with me now, and I understand that too.

What I want to make clear is how much I appreciated your honesty in the past. I’m not saying you’re not being honest now—you are, within the boundaries you’re comfortable with. I respect that. But I wanted you to know that your honesty when we were growing up and into our teen years showed me that’s what I want in life. To be honest. And to have those I love be honest with me.

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess just to let you know I appreciate the influence you’ve had on my life. No matter what happens, know that I loved you.

Lila swallowed hard, fighting back tears.

I didn’t know how to show you, and I’m sorry about that. It was probably better, anyway. For all we have in common, I know there’s more that separates us. I see the fathers here so desperate to care for their children, and I think of your Dat. I know we didn’t always see it, but he loves you—all of you. I can see that in the villagers here. A harshness fueled by love and the desire to do what is right. The Afghan people have taught me nearly as much as the Amish.

It ended abruptly. He’d simply signed it:
Zane.

She tucked the letter back into her pocket. “. . .
know that I loved you
.” She swallowed hard again and headed back into the shop, swiping at her eyes as she walked. Dawdi was at the counter. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Lila smiled. “Just a bit of dust in my eye,” she said, pulling the thank-you note out of her pocket. “Zane sent this for the ladies.” She handed Dawdi the note.

He read it and smiled. “Nice. For a minute I thought he was corresponding with you.”

Lila shrugged. “He wanted Mammi and the rest of the women to know how much the quilts and blankets were appreciated.”

Dawdi didn’t say anything more. He didn’t like conflict. If anything more needed to be said, he’d leave it to Mammi.

Lila felt melancholy the rest of the day. That evening, after the supper dishes were put away, she went for a walk, slipping through the gate and then along the poplar trees. Had her Mamm felt this way about the Englisch boy she’d dated? Before she broke things off. Had it felt to her as if she were being yanked in two?