Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
C
alvin noticed his gloves were caked with mud when they were already halfway to Wal-Mart. As he kept a firm hand on Beauty, while waiting at a stoplight, he couldn’t help but stare at the worn leather: The gloves were stiff and uncomfortable; tiny bits of dirt flew off of them each time he clutched the reins. Truly, he should have cleaned them before the drive. Why was he just now noticing their state?
“
Calvin
. The light has turned,” his mother gently prodded.
After making sure no cars had run the light, he motioned Beauty forward.
“You seem more quiet than usual today. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing of importance.”
“How is the plowing coming along?”
“About the same as ever. Slow.”
“Perhaps the rain will come soon. We could use it.”
“It would be a blessing,” he mumbled, suddenly recalling how much he’d hoped for an end to the storms when he’d traveled east on the train.
“Calvin, I was hoping that after we shop we could have lunch together.”
He had hoped to get back home and help Loyal clean the plow. Loyal had taken over the plowing when he’d left, but Calvin knew it would take both of them at least two hours to wash it up and the other farm implements.
“If you’d like to have lunch, then we shall. Where would you like to go?”
“To Applebee’s.”
“No Amish cooking for you, hmm?”
“I have had more than enough Amish food in my house, Calvin. I’m looking forward to their pasta.”
“Well, I could have some of that. Or Mexican food, maybe?”
As he’d expected, his mother’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. I read about green enchiladas in a magazine the other day. Doesn’t that sound interesting?”
Personally, the only green food Calvin trusted was a vegetable. “Enchiladas do sound interesting . . .”
“Did John take you to lots of restaurants in Indianapolis?”
“He did. Katie’s favorite was an ice cream parlor. They had thirty-one flavors there.”
The expression of wonder on her mother’s face was almost comical. “Oh, Calvin. What were some of the flavors?”
Her comments were enough to make him smile for the last twenty minutes of the trip.
When they reached Wal-Mart, he helped her out of the buggy, then motioned her forward. “Mamm, I’m going to stay out here for a while. Take your time, though.”
She faltered. “You sure?”
“Positive. I’m going to try to clean up my boots and gloves a bit,” he said as an excuse. “If I went inside with them like this, they’d surely leave a trail of mud wherever I went.”
“You might have a point about that. Calvin, going out caked in mud isn’t like you. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“All right . . . if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
After another curious look his way, she left his side and went into the store. And then Calvin felt like he could finally exhale.
Ever since he’d left Lucy’s side yesterday, their conversation—and the way they’d stood together in silence—haunted him.
Something special was happening between them, something—like the mechanical problems on the train—that was out of his control.
But unlike the train’s malfunctions, this new development between him and Lucy made him feel happy—and long for something more. In their short association, they’d already been challenged. But now things were on track. He couldn’t help but think about a future with Lucy in it.
A future of making her smile.
“Calvin?”
“Hmm?” He looked up, his mind still on Lucy . . . and that dimple in her cheek. Then he froze when he realized Will was standing in front of him. “Will. Hello.” Against his best efforts, Calvin scanned the man who used to be his best friend.
Will stood tall and straight in front of him, his looks as chiseled as ever. But there was a new vulnerability in his eyes.
Slowly, Calvin walked forward. Though he still resented the way Will and Gwen had begun their relationship, he knew they would be crossing paths often. They had to be as civil as possible. “What brings you here?”
Will shrugged. “The same thing that brings everyone else here, I imagine. Paper towels and toilet paper.”
Calvin couldn’t help but grin. More of the anger and resentment slowly dissipated, uncovering the bare bones of their friendship.
Maybe it was intact after all.
“I brought my mother here to shop. You know how much she likes coming here.”
Will grinned. “Everyone knows how much your mother likes this supercenter.” After a pause, Will added, “I heard you went to Indianapolis.”
“I did.”
“And got stuck on the train on the way home?”
“You heard correctly,” Calvin replied, then waited. He knew Will’s tic in his cheek well. He had something on his mind and he was figuring out a way to say it.
“So . . . you ever plannin’ to forgive me for keeping company with Gwen?”
“Forgive you for keeping company with her behind my back, you mean?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
That muscle in Will’s cheek jumped again. “Gwen and me, we didn’t plan on falling in love. We just did.” Meeting his gaze, Will shrugged. “I didn’t intend for it to happen. I hope one day you’ll believe me.”
Calvin’s pride wanted him to argue and complain. But if he was honest with himself, he knew Will was right. Sometimes love did happen, right when a person least expected it. Just like things had happened with him and Lucy.
As the silence, and the tension, between them grew, Calvin knew it was time to forgive. Making the decision, he held out his hand. “I wish the best for you both.”
Stepping forward, Will shook his hand.
“Danke.”
“So . . . I should go find my mother. You know, there’s no telling what she’ll put in her cart.”
Will’s eyes sparkled. “Probably a
gut
idea.” He rocked back on his heels. “See you at church?”
“Of course.”
After a nod, Will turned around and disappeared through the doors of the store. Leaving Calvin feeling like a load had been lifted from his shoulders. He now almost believed that time really did heal all wounds.
A
ll day women had bustled around the Lapps’ kitchen, making casseroles for the coming week, but now, it seemed, most had left. Of course, they’d also left a bit of a mess.
Mentally, Lucy figured she had just under an hour to get the kitchen to rights before Mattie and Aunt Jenna returned. But when she went back to her aunt’s kitchen, Lucy skittered to a stop.
Gwen was still there.
It was tempting to turn back around, but of course, that wasn’t the right thing to do. She had come to Mattie’s home to help, and that’s what she had done.
With that in mind, Lucy stepped forward. “Thank you for staying a little longer.”
“I don’t mind. As I told Mattie, I want to help in any way I can.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Lucy replied. “There’s so much to do.”
“And no one in the Lapp family ever asks for help.”
“I’ve thought that same thing,” Lucy said, sharing a smile with the other girl.
Well, maybe she was finally going to be able to cast away her wariness around Gwen. Breathing deep, Lucy gave thanks for Psalm 51:
Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me.
Yes, it truly wasn’t her place to judge what had happened between Gwen and Calvin. She needed to keep that in the forefront of her mind, above all else.
Gwen looked up from the orange she was sectioning. “So many people have brought Jenna and Mattie fresh fruit, I thought I’d make a fruit salad.”
“I’ll help you, if I may.” After washing her hands and claiming one of Jenna’s paring knives, Lucy took her place beside Gwen and started slicing strawberries. “Mattie should enjoy this,” she said after a moment. “She likes fruit salad very much.”
“She always took care to tell me that she got oranges at Christmas,” Gwen murmured. “I hope she still likes them.”
“Mattie told me some things don’t taste like they used to. But we can only try, I suppose.”
Gwen frowned. “Yes, that is all we can do.”
Looking for a happier topic, Lucy said, “I heard that you will be getting married soon.”
“Yes.” She added quickly, “Have you met Will?”
“I’m sorry, I have not.”
“I’ll look forward to introducing you to him, then.” She paused. “He’s a
gut
man.”
“I’m happy for you.”
Gwen set her knife down. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said slowly. “I thought perhaps you would be angry at me on Calvin’s behalf.”
Because she’d been tempted to be that way, Lucy knew her cheeks were flushing. “Your relationships are none of my concern. After all, I hardly know Calvin.”
“Really? I had gotten the feeling that you knew each other quite well.”
Gwen was right. Lucy did know Calvin fairly well. But they’d had their moments of confusion, too. “Gwen, if you don’t mind me asking . . . why did you choose Will?”
“I chose Will because he chose me,” she said after a pause. “And we fell in love. And . . . because it is necessary that I marry.”
Ah. There was that mention again.
Lucy gripped the handle on her knife as she recalled her early feelings of duty and responsibility. “I married like that as well.”
Beside her, Gwen froze. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“He died.” Lucy didn’t dare turn to meet her gaze, though. She was afraid if she did, she would never be able to tell her story. And instinctively she knew that the Lord had provided her with this moment with Gwen just for this purpose. “I don’t like to speak of it.”
“Because you miss him too much?”
Oh, but Gwen’s voice had a wistful edge to it. Lucy was almost tempted to let her think that way. It would be easier.
But it wouldn’t be the truth.
“No, that isn’t the reason.” She cleared her throat. “I’m the oldest of six children. My family was having some financial struggles. Moving out and moving on seemed the right thing to do.”
“Those feelings are understandable.”
Lucy felt her insides relax, glad to be understood. “
Jah
. Paul was a handsome man, and very personable. My family enjoyed his company. It seemed like an easy choice.”
Gwen paused. “So you two were happy?”
Lucy closed her eyes as she tried to recall her feelings for the man who ultimately did so much to harm her. “No. No, we were not.”
Then, remembering that God was right beside her, Lucy forced herself to continue. “Gwen, I had a child’s view of love and marriage. I imagined that Paul and I would somehow have a houseful of
kinner,
and that in many ways we would have separate lives. He would go to work at the ironworks, and I would stay home and raise the children.”
“But that didn’t happen?”
“Oh, nothing happened like I imagined. Living with someone is a difficult thing, Gwen. Even in the best of relationships, each person must compromise and give and take. But Paul wasn’t like that. He liked always being right.” She paused, trying to come up with the correct words, but there really weren’t any. “Paul liked being in charge, and he was angry and hurtful . . . and he liked hurting me.”
Gwen paled. “What did your family do?”
“Nothing.”
“But—”
“I hid a lot of my problems. After all, there was nothing they could do. I was Paul’s wife. I’d spoken vows and I promised I would honor and obey him.” In spite of the gravity of the conversation, Lucy smiled. “This is what I’m trying to tell you, Gwen. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what everyone else thinks you should do, or wants you to do. If you marry the wrong person, you, and you alone, will have to deal with the consequences, in every way possible.”
“Are you saying you think I shouldn’t want to marry Will?”
“I’m not saying that at all. I don’t know you or Will. I’m no judge.” She swallowed, prayed for the Lord to help her with her words. To help her find the right words. “But, Gwen, I found out the hard way that marrying Paul in order to help my family didn’t end up helping them at all. My parents knew I was unhappy and felt guilty. My siblings knew I had married in order to help them and they felt a lot of grief, too.”
“What happened to Paul?”
“One evening, he slipped on a ladder and fell.” Just in time, she closed her mouth. The last thing she wanted to do was to admit her guilt. To admit that she should have checked on him far earlier than she did.
“And then you were free.”
“I was free of his hurtful ways, but not of the consequences,” Lucy corrected. “The truth is, the two years I spent married to him changed me. It changed who I once was. And now I can never go back.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Making a mistake that I can never go back from?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps no one knows except you and Will and God.” She shrugged, wishing she had a better ability to speak about what was in her heart. “I guess I’m just trying to tell you that I have learned that nothing is a simple, singular choice. Our lives are intertwined with each other, like the honeysuckle vines growing on the fence outside. Everything we do affects so many other people, for better or worse. So, perhaps, it is better to live life a little too cautiously than in a headstrong fashion.”
In a deliberate manner, Gwen carefully scooped the orange sections into the glass bowl in between them, then rinsed off her knife.
Lucy sliced strawberries and waited. Giving Gwen time to reflect on what she said.
After drying her hands with a dish towel, Gwen faced her. “I want to thank you for telling me about your marriage. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling in a winsome way. “I think I, too, have been guilty of not thinking about what a marriage would truly be like. Instead, I’ve only been thinking of making my mother’s and sister’s lives easier.”
“I didn’t mean to change your mind . . . just to make you realize that there are always consequences.”
“I understand.” She sighed. “Now I want to leave with something for you to think about.”
“Yes?”
“In all the time Calvin and I were sweethearts, he never once looked at me the way I’ve seen him look at you.”
Stunned, Lucy shook her head. “I doubt—”
“Don’t doubt. I promise. I wouldn’t make something like that up.”
And before Lucy could ask Gwen what she meant by that remark, Gwen left the kitchen, just as her Aunt Jenna walked in the front door.
“Lucy?” Jenna called out, her voice strained.
Lucy ran to the entryway. Her aunt was standing by the front door, looking pale and exhausted. “Yes?”
“Could you please help me get Mattie inside? I’m afraid it’s been a terribly difficult day.”
“Of course,” Lucy replied.
She followed her aunt outside to the van . . . all thoughts of Gwen and Paul and Calvin pushed aside.
A
s he ground coffee beans and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, John knew he’d never felt more alone. He felt torn between two worlds, and two choices. Jayne Donovan, and her English life. Her flirty glances, her humor, the way she smiled when she talked and seemed to care about everyone around her. Jayne was the type of woman he used to dream of having a relationship with when he was living on the farm and yearning for the excitement of the big city.
She was polished and beautiful and vibrant.
So much like Angela in some ways, but different, too. John knew Jayne was made of sterner stuff than Angela. She was stronger, more independent. Far less spoiled.
And he’d seen the flash of interest for him in her eyes. Instinctively, he knew she was waiting for him to ask her out. Waiting for him to call her.
Now that the coffee was brewing, he got to work organizing one of the bakery cases. A bank teller had come in early and bought three dozen donuts for her office. There’d been a line by the time she’d left, and he’d never had a chance to put things to right again.
Kneeling, he arranged the last of the donuts and let his mind drift back to his love life, such that it was.
Of course, Mary came to mind. The widow. The
Amish
widow. Oh, but his heart went out to her. She was trying so hard to take care of her boy. He, being twelve, was pulling away from her as quickly as possible.
Mary seemed to find joy in the simplest of things. She made him yearn to be more gentle, more patient, more giving than he’d ever felt in his entire life. When he was around Mary, he melted—there was no other word for it. She made him want to be a better person, to reach out to others more. To be kinder.
And, of course, he yearned to help her. He wanted to help with Abel. He wanted to be the person she could lean on, because he was coming to realize that Mary needed someone strong in her life, to help bear her burdens.
A pan clanked as he wiped it down and stacked it on the others he’d take into the kitchen later.
Just as the door to the shop opened. He almost cried in relief, especially when he saw who had wandered in. Visiting with his nephew would definitely take his mind off his problems. “Calvin. It’s good to see you. What brings you in?” He grabbed a plate. “Hungry?”
“Always.” Calvin grinned.
“I’ll get you a couple of donuts.”
“Thanks.” He paused. “Uncle John, the food sounds good, but I mainly just wanted to see you. Do you have time to talk?”
“I have nothing but time. Sit down.” Opening up the case, he pulled out a pair of plain cake donuts and poured two mugs full of the fresh-brewed coffee. “How are things? How’s my Katie?”
Calvin grimaced. “She tripped playing jump rope and somehow bit her lip. It’s swollen and red. Bled something awful.”
John tried to find the silver lining. “Perhaps she won’t be able to talk for a day or two?”
“We only got two hours’ break,” his nephew said with a laugh. “I’ll bring her in soon so you can admire her split lip. She’s terribly proud of it.”
“Oh, but your father would have enjoyed your sister’s scrapes.”
Calvin stilled. “You think so?”
“Of course. He loved a good laugh. And he got in a fair amount of trouble when he was young, too.”
“I thought he’d been perfect . . .”
“He was a good man. The best man I knew. But he wasn’t perfect, Calvin.” He paused. “No one is.”
Calvin frowned. “I’m definitely not.”
“What happened?”
“I betrayed a woman’s trust.”
“Lucy’s?”
“Jah.”
He rolled his eyes. “I guess it’s obvious, huh?”
“A little.”
“Do you think I’m hopeless? I should be able to handle relationships better. Don’t you think? At my age?”
John couldn’t help laughing. “If the Lord gave us wisdom with age, we’d be in even more of a hurry to grow up! And to get old.”