Rum Spring (14 page)

“What do you think is wrong?”

“Anything I could come up with is probably ten times worse than the real thing so I don’t want to speculate.” Dylan put a hand on Rebecca’s arm. “No matter what happens, never forget I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Hearing—and saying—the words brought Rebecca great comfort. She hoped this wouldn’t be the last time she and Dylan would be able to share such sentiments.

“Is that my dad on the porch?”

Rebecca peered at the lone figure pacing in front of Sarah and Joshua’s front door. “I think so.”

“Damn. He looks pissed.”

Dylan sped up the driveway and stomped on the brakes. She and Rebecca climbed out after the truck lurched to a stop.

“We’re here. What’s going on, Dad?”

“Come inside.” Mr. Mahoney held the front door open. “This concerns you, too. Both of you.”

Rebecca, anxiety gnawing at her insides, slowly approached the door. The only thing she feared more than losing Dylan was having her love for Dylan become public knowledge. Had someone found out what she and Dylan had been up to that afternoon? Had someone seen or heard something they shouldn’t? If so, the consequences could be devastating. For both of them.

Most of Sarah and Joshua’s guests had left. The ones who remained were gathered in the living room. Marian and Sarah stood in the middle of the room. Both were visibly upset. They looked like they could—or already had—come to blows. They were surrounded by several groups of people. Her parents and Uncle Amos. Joshua, Moses, and Mr. and Mrs. King. Mr. and Mrs. Schlabach. Cousin Peterli. Mr. and Mrs. Mahoney.

Isaiah sat in Mrs. Mahoney’s lap. Squirming and crying, he stretched his arms for his mother. Why didn’t Sarah take him out of Mrs. Mahoney’s arms when he so clearly wanted her to hold him?

“Sit down.”

Her father’s deep voice sounded stern. Rebecca didn’t know if she was being asked to choose sides or have judgment passed upon her. She wanted to sit next to Dylan but the lines had clearly been drawn. She sat next to her mother, who continually dabbed her moist eyes with a handkerchief. Dylan sat next to Mrs. Mahoney.

“Begin again,” her father said.

Marian spoke first. “I apologize for disrupting the frolic, Mr. Lapp. It was not my intention.”

“We will discuss your behavior at a later time. We will begin with the charges you have leveled. You have accused Sarah of consorting with an Englishman and allowing that man to father her child.”

Rebecca looked from Sarah to Joshua. Neither could meet her eyes—or each other’s.

“She’s lying, Papa,” Sarah said.

“You are the one who’s lying,” Marian said. “Isaiah is not the son of Joshua King but Matthew Mahoney.”

Rebecca heard Dylan’s gasp of surprise. If she had been able to breathe, she might have managed one of her own. Was it true? Was Isaiah Dylan’s nephew? And if he was, would he be allowed to stay? Would Sarah?

Papa had been elected Volliger Diener because he was considered one of the wisest and most compassionate men in the community. Sarah appealed to the judgment that had served him so well in the past.

“Are you going to believe the word of a drunkard over mine?”

“You don’t have to believe what I say. Let your eyes show you the truth.”

Marian reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a photograph. She handed the photograph to Rebecca’s father. Her mother averted her eyes from the image in accordance with the Ordnung.

Rebecca lowered her gaze from her father’s stricken face to the photograph in his shaking hands.

The snapshot was of Sarah and Matthew Mahoney. It had apparently been taken during Sarah’s rumspringa. Sarah was dressed in jeans and a printed blouse. She had a bottle of beer in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. She was sitting on the lap of a shirtless Matthew Mahoney. He was kissing her—and touching her in a familiar way.

Her father covered the photograph with his hands as if he wanted to crumple it up or tear it to pieces. Then he held it up for the others to see.

Rebecca watched their reactions. Mr. and Mrs. Mahoney clenched their teeth and remained silent. Dylan, her lower lip trembling, said the one word that surely everyone else was thinking: “No.”

Seeing the photo, Sarah turned as white as a sheet. It was obvious she didn’t know it existed. Until it was too late.

“The charges Marian has made are true,” she said.

Joshua buried his head in his hands. Mr. and Mrs. King comforted him when he began to cry. Sarah’s tears flowed just as freely as she began to confess her sins.

“I dated Matthew Mahoney during my rumspringa. I can count on one hand the number of times I was with him. He left me after he got what he wanted.”

“When you realized you were with child, did you know the child might not be mine?” Joshua asked.

Sarah, beyond words, could only nod.

“Did you share your suspicions with anyone?” her father asked.

“Only Marian. She was my friend. I thought she would keep my secret.”

“And so she did.”

“Surely you must have known that because you are his mother, I would have loved him as my own whether or not I was his father,” Joshua said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you would leave me,” Sarah said. “I wanted to wait until after we were married because I knew we could not be divorced. When the time came, I could not bring myself to destroy your happiness.”

Her father held up one hand. “Say no more. I have heard enough.” He pushed himself out of his seat, a task that seemed to take more effort than normal. “Amos, gather the members of the council and tell them we must meet. Thomas Mahoney, take the child with you until his fate has been decided.”

“No,” Sarah wailed in despair. “You cannot take my child from me.”

“All actions have consequences. You would be wise to remember that.”

His shoulders sagging from the weight of the responsibility heaped upon them, he walked out the door. Peterli, Uncle Amos, and Mr. King trailed behind him. The Schlabachs soon followed. Her mother and Mrs. King remained behind to comfort Sarah and Joshua. Mr. Mahoney, despite her father’s dismissal, looked like he didn’t know if he should stay or go. Then he abruptly stood. “No offense, Mrs. Lapp, but your husband cannot decide the course of so many people’s lives based on the word of a couple of kids barely out of their teens. There’s only one way to settle this.” He pulled Isaiah from Mrs. Mahoney’s arms. “Ask Samuel to do nothing until he hears from me.”

Mr. Mahoney headed for the door, Dylan hot on his heels. “Dad, where are you going?”

“To see your brother.”

“I’m coming with you.” Dylan looked back at Rebecca. Wait for me, her eyes seemed to plead.

Unsure if she would be able to heed the silent command, Rebecca projected a one-word reply: Hurry.

It had been years since Dylan had seen her father so upset. “Do you want me to drive?” she asked after he nearly missed the on-ramp to the Pennsylvania Turnpike. She peered into the backseat to check on Isaiah. He was sleeping peacefully in the ancient car seat that hadn’t been used since the last time she was strapped into it.

“I can handle the driving. I need you to read the instructions on that test kit so we don’t screw this up. I don’t want to make the situation any worse than it already is.”

Dylan read the instruction sheet inside the paternity test collection kit her father had bought from the pharmacy in Lancaster. “It shouldn’t be too hard. We swab the inside of Matt’s cheek with one of these giant Q-tips, do the same to Isaiah, and mail the swabs to the processing center to be tested. In three to five business days, we’ll know if Matt really is Isaiah’s father.”

“There has to be a faster way.”

“Do you want it done fast or do you want it done right?”

“I just want it done.” He weaved in and out of traffic, passing cars at will.

“What will you do if Matt is Isaiah’s father? Matt can barely take care of himself, let alone a kid.”

“Isaiah would stay with us, obviously, even though I thought your mother and I were done raising children. If Sarah leaves the church and decides to assert her parental rights, we wouldn’t stand in her way. He is her son, after all. But what about you? What will you do if it turns out Isaiah is your nephew?”

“I already love the little rug rat, so that’s not going to change. Rebecca is reluctant to commit to a future with me. She can’t imagine not being with her family. I understand that, so I’m not pressuring her. At least, I hope I’m not. We have fun when we’re together, but each time I take her home, I feel like she’s saying, That was a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. If she’s looking for an excuse to walk away, this could be the one she needs. If she takes it, it would feel like she’s rejecting more than the English world. It would feel like she’s rejecting me, too.”

It had been three days since the barn raising. Three days since Sarah’s world had been torn apart. Three days since Sarah had seen Isaiah. Three days since Rebecca had seen Dylan.

When Dylan and Mr. Mahoney had returned from Reading and told everyone about the waiting period for the test results, Rebecca feared Sarah might collapse from the strain. Her fears seemed to have come to fruition. Her sister was wasting away in front of her eyes.

Rebecca placed a tray of food in front of Sarah and tried to get her to eat.

Sarah stirred the potato soup but didn’t lift the spoon to her mouth. Her carefully crafted web of deceit lay in tatters at her feet. “Have I been shunned?”

Rebecca placed a hand on Sarah’s back. She could feel Sarah’s bones poking through the thick material of her dress. Sarah had lost so much weight. And so quickly. Her grief was total and overwhelming. Rebecca felt her pain and longed to take it away. “The council has not met,” she said gently. “No decision has been made.”

“And yet Joshua treats me as if I have been shunned. He will not speak to me or share a table with me.”

“He is hurt and confused. What would you have him do?”

“Forgive me.”

“You broke the Ordnung, Sarah.”

Rebecca wondered if Sarah’s torment would become her own one day. She had romantic feelings for Dylan Mahoney. By acting on those feelings, she, too, had broken the Ordnung. She, too, risked punishment.

“I broke the Ordnung before I made a vow to uphold it.”

“And you continued to break it each day you remained silent about what you had done. That’s how the council will see it.”

“But that’s not how I see it. I paid the price for my silence every day. I paid it every time I looked at my husband. I paid it every time I looked at my son. Have you never done something you regret?”

Rebecca was in love with Dylan Mahoney. She grew to love her a little more each day. She was certain she would never regret loving Dylan or acting on that love. But would she—like Sarah—be forced to pay for her actions?

Dylan opened the web browser and logged on to the family’s e-mail account.

“You’ve got mail,” a computer-generated voice said.

Dylan checked the unread messages. She quickly located an e-mail from the lab that had processed the paternity test.

“The results are back.”

She clicked on the link in the secure e-mail and input the provided user ID and password. Her father watched over her shoulder. Her mother, saying she was too afraid to look, remained on the couch with a sleeping Isaiah stretched across her lap.

Her mother ran a hand over the toddler’s curls. “Even though I would love it if Isaiah were part of this family, I hope Sarah got her dates wrong. I know she must be eager to see him. I can’t believe Samuel would even think of keeping them apart, let alone follow through with it.”

“The rules are the rules,” Dylan said, wondering if those same rules would soon force her and Rebecca to part as well.

“Being separated has to be as hard on Sarah as it is on Isaiah,” her mother said. “If it were me, I would fall apart. Then I would tear down every obstacle in my path until we were reunited. Give me good news, Dylan, so we can take this little one home where he belongs.”

“Fingers crossed, Mom.” A multipage document appeared on the screen. Dylan silently read the disclosures.

“Well?” her father said anxiously.

“I’m getting there.” She scrolled through the complex medical jargon and skipped to the last page. “Here we are. ‘Test results indicate a ninety-nine point nine percent probability that there is a paternal relation between Sample A and Sample B.’”

“So he is Matt’s son.”

“Congratulations, Grandpa. It’s a boy.”

“Not funny, Dylan.”

“That’s why they call it gallows humor, Dad.”

She looked at the test results again to see if, by some miracle, she had read them wrong the first time. Nothing had changed. Then again, everything had changed. Or was about to. If Isaiah’s father wasn’t Amish, that meant Isaiah wasn’t Amish. Chances were he would not be allowed to stay with the only family he had ever known. Would he be allowed to stay with Sarah, or would Dylan’s home become his permanent one?

“Do you think they’ll take him away?” Her mother covered Isaiah’s ears with her hand as if she didn’t want him to overhear their conversation.

Dylan printed the test results and handed them to her father. “That piece of paper makes him English, which means he can’t live with the Lapps. He can stay with Sarah if they kick her out of the church or if she chooses to leave on her own, but with no job and only an eighth-grade education, she would have to fight one uphill battle after another.”

“She could stay with us until she gets on her feet. They both can. We have plenty of room. What do you think, Tom?”

“I think she’ll see it as charity and she’ll say no, but we can certainly make the offer.”

Rebecca’s heartbeat quickened when she saw Mrs. Mahoney standing on the front porch with Isaiah in her arms. Then her heart nearly stopped when she saw Dylan’s face. She didn’t need to read what was on the paper in Mr. Mahoney’s hand to know what it said. The look in Dylan’s eyes said it all.

Mr. Mahoney handed the piece of paper to Rebecca’s father. “It’s true,” was all he said. It was all that needed to be said.