A Forbidden Rumspringa (Gay Amish Romance Book 1) (31 page)

“Do you want me to talk to him first? It might not be him at all—his number could be unlisted, or he might only have a cell phone. Lots of people are getting rid of their landlines these days.”

The temptation to have June do this for him was strong, but Isaac shook his head. “I can do it.”

“Okay, so you need to dial one first. Do you know how phone numbers work?”

Isaac shrugged. “Kind of, but I’ve never called anyone before. There was a phone in the schoolhouse in Red Hills, but oh would we have been in trouble if we’d touched it. It was on a wall and it had a round dial.”

June smiled. “I used to have one of those. Got this cordless set quite a few years back now.”

“But this isn’t like the phones that are little computers?”

“Those are smartphones, we call them. No, this is just a regular old phone. I can put in the number if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” Somehow Isaac felt a little less guilty, even though using the telephone at all was a terrible sin. Of course it was the least of his crimes, and it wouldn’t matter if he left Zebulon.

When. Not if.

June pressed a button and the telephone lit up. Isaac could hear faint beeps as she punched in the number. Nausea washed over him. What if Aaron didn’t answer? What if this was a huge mistake? What if Aaron didn’t want to talk to him? What if—

“It’s ringing.” She pressed the phone into his hand.

Shaking, he lifted it to his ear. June smiled encouragingly and raised her thumbs before closing the office door behind her. The tinny ringing continued, and Isaac thought he might be sick all over the round multi-colored rug on June’s floor.

“Hello?” A woman answered.

Isaac’s heart pounded so hard he was sure she’d hear it all the way in California. His throat was dry again. “Uh…”

“Hello?” A pause. “If this is that same telemarketer from two hours ago, I swear to God I’ll—”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s not.” There was a faint echo of his words in his ear. “I’m trying to find Aaron Byler. I’m not a telemarketer.” He wasn’t totally sure what that was, but it was safe to say he wasn’t one.

“Sorry. Hold on a sec.” Her voice dimmed as she called out. “Babe? It’s for you.”

After several heartbeats, there was a click. “Hello?”

Isaac sucked in a breath, and tears sprang to his eyes.
Aaron.

“Hello
?” A pause. “Who is this?”

He barely got the words out. “Aaron? It’s me.”

Silence. “
Isaac
? Oh my God.”

“Yes.” A sob escaped him, and he gasped for air, gripping the telephone to his ear so hard it hurt.

“It’s so good to hear your voice. I always hoped one day you’d find me. Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“I’m okay. Well, not really. I miss you so much. I can’t believe I’m talking to you.”

Aaron’s voice was thick with emotion. “Me either. God, Isaac. You have no idea how good is to hear your voice. You sound so different.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, tell me what’s going on. Did something happen? Is anyone hurt?”

“No. We’re all fine. Mother and Father, and Ephraim, Nathan, Katie and Joseph. Abigail and Hannah, too, as far as I know. Wait, you don’t know Joseph. He was born after you left.”

Aaron exhaled. “Okay, that’s good. There’s no emergency?”

“No. I’m just…I needed to talk to you.”

“Isaac, you can talk to me about anything, I promise. Anything you want to say, I’m here. Okay?”

He took a shuddering breath. “Okay.” Yet the words shriveled on his tongue, and he listened to Aaron breathe.

“So how is it in Zebulon? I’ve heard how strict the Ordnung is.”

“How? You left Red Hills before we came here. I wasn’t even sure if you knew we’d moved.”

“Abigail and I write to each other. She has to hide the letters since I was excommunicated.” He huffed out a laugh. “Even without phones or electricity, somehow the Amish gossip mill manages to get all the news. She tells me what she hears from Mom.”

“How is Abigail? I know she had another baby last month. Mother tells us the big news from her and Hannah, but maybe Abigail says more to you.”

“She’s good. She’s happy. Misses all of you, but she’s glad they stayed in Red Hills. She and Hannah are still close, but Hannah doesn’t know she writes to me. Hannah always was a rule follower, being the oldest, and since I’m shunned… But Abigail said she heard you’re working with Jeremiah Lantz’s David. I’m amazed Dad let you off the farm.”

“I…” Isaac wiped his eyes impatiently and concentrated on breathing. “I was.”

“Did something happen?”

He wasn’t sure if he could answer. “Aaron, I don’t know if I can stay here.”

There was a pause. “Okay. Just take a deep breath. Everything’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”

Isaac could barely speak. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You can come live here.”

Another sob swelled in his chest, and Isaac trembled. “Really?”

“Of course! Isaac, you can come tomorrow. Today! You’re my brother. We have a spare room. It’s all yours.”

The relief was a warm rush through him. He sniffed loudly. “We? The lady who answered the phone?”

“My wife. Her name’s Jen. We have a townhouse in Bernal Heights. I’m in San Francisco. I guess you know that if you found my number.”

“When did you get married?” It was strange to think of Aaron living a whole new life. In all the years he’d been gone, Isaac had always imagined him somewhere alone.

“A few years ago. Wait, let me think—four years ago. Jen will kick my ass if I don’t get our anniversary right. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“How did you meet her?” Isaac realized he had little idea how English people dated.

“A trip to the ER after I fell off my bike.”

“You rode a bicycle? But it has rubber wheels,” Isaac blurted.

“Once you leave all the rules behind, you’ll find they didn’t make a whole lot of sense. Cars and bikes are a lot more efficient than a horse and buggy.”

It was true of course, and Isaac had ridden in June’s truck himself. Still, his stomach knotted. He forced his focus back on Aaron’s story. “So your wife was at the hospital too?”

“She was the doctor on call, and I never thought I’d be so glad to break my wrist. It took some doing, but I convinced her to write her number on my cast. She made me promise not to call until it came off, thinking I’d have moved on by then.” He chuckled. “She didn’t realize how patient someone raised plain could be.”

Isaac smiled. It was like hearing a story from a book. “She sounds nice. Do you have a job?”

“I’m a high school math teacher. I got my GED and went to college.”

“GED?”

“Sorry. It’s a test. Instead of going back to high school, I took night classes and then I passed the GED. It means you’re smart enough to have the equivalent of a high school diploma.”

The thought of going to classes and learning about the world made Isaac smile. “Could I do that?”

“Absolutely. Isaac, you can do
anything
. The sky’s the limit.”

Aaron spoke fervently, and Isaac could close his eyes and imagine the earnest expression on his brother’s face. His hazel eyes and blond hair were so like Mother’s, but he’d always shined in a way Mother didn’t. Of course Aaron was almost thirty now. Isaac wondered if he looked like a grownup. It was hard to tell in the tiny Facebook picture. “It’s been nine years.”

“I know. God, Isaac—I wanted to see you all again so badly, but after you moved to Zebulon I knew it would just make it worse for you. And I couldn’t come back with hat in hand to profess my sins and ask forgiveness. I couldn’t rejoin the church. I couldn’t.”

“I know. I don’t blame you.” Isaac exhaled.

Aaron’s voice wavered. “If I could have taken you with me, I would have. All of you. But you have to make the choice yourself. Are Mom and Dad…are they okay?”

Isaac nodded, but of course Aaron couldn’t see him. “Yes. After you left, Mother wept, and then she tried to pretend everything was normal. Father was angry, and then he went quiet, the way he does. Ephraim was furious. I didn’t know what to feel. And now I’m going to do it to them all over again.”

“I know how hard it is. I agonized for months before I left.
Y
ears.
I knew the plain life wasn’t for me, but I tried to make it work. It didn’t do any good. Isaac, you have to be brave and live your life. You can’t stay for the sake of the family. It won’t work if it’s not what you really want. You’ll never be happy.” He took a long breath. “If you decide to stay, then that’s okay too. But it has to be what you truly want, deep inside.”

Isaac stared at the swirled pattern of blues and greens and purples on the rug. He knew what was deep inside him. “I want to leave,” he whispered.

Aaron’s voice cracked. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he repeated. “Then let’s get you organized.”

“But I don’t have any money. How will I get there?”

“I’ll pay, don’t worry. I can buy your ticket online. Hold on, let me Google…”

“All right.” Isaac breathed in and out, in and out.
I’m
leaving.

“Okay, you can get the Greyhound in Grand Forks, just across the border in North Dakota. Do you think you can get a ride there? It’s no more than an hour from where you are. You’d get the bus at six-fifty p.m. It’ll take a few days to get to California, and there are a bunch of transfers. I’d fly you out, but you don’t have any ID.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I can manage.”

“I can’t take much time off work with no notice, but I’ll see if I can come pick you up partway. Maybe in Salt Lake City or—”

“You don’t need to do that. I can get there on my own. I want to. Really.”

“Are you sure? Just ask the drivers for help if you get confused, and call me if there’s a problem—no matter what time it is.”

“We took the bus here when we left Ohio. I can do it.”

“I know you can. When do you want to come? I need to know which day to buy the ticket for.”

Isaac wanted to say tomorrow. But the thought of packing up and sneaking away so soon paralyzed him.

“Isaac, it’s okay. You don’t have to decide right this second. Just let me know. It’s all up to you.”

He exhaled. “All right.” But just as the terror started to fade, the gnawing guilt and shame rose up in him, unfurling its huge wings until Isaac thought he might suffocate. How could he take Aaron’s money and stay under his roof without telling him the real truth?

“Isaac? Are you okay? I know this is scary. You’ll get through this. I promise.”

He realized he was panting softly into the telephone. “There’s something else. I have to tell you something, even if makes you hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” Aaron’s voice was strong and firm. Completely confident in the way he’d always been. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

For a minute, Isaac just breathed while Aaron waited. Then he swallowed thickly. “You remember I was working with David Lantz.”

“Yes. But you’re not anymore.”

Words whipped around Isaac’s mind in a jumble, and he struggled to find the right ones. “I’m not like you, Aaron.”

“Okay. In what way?”

“I don’t want a wife. David and I…we…” Isaac thought his chest might explode as the pressure suffocated him.

“Is there something between you?” Aaron asked calmly.

He pushed the words out like he was shoving against a stone in the fields. “There was. We know it was wrong, but we couldn’t stop ourselves.”

“Are you saying you’re gay? Homosexual, I mean. That you’re attracted to other men? That you love other men?”

Aaron said it all so easily, as though he were discussing nothing more than the weather. Isaac hunched over his knees, pressing the telephone against his sore ear. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Then that’s the way you were born, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Not a
thing
. Isaac, I love you just the way you are, and so will a lot of other people. Thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you.”

Isaac could hardly believe his ears. “You don’t think it’s a terrible sin? The Bible says—”

“Isaac, the Bible says an awful lot of things. We can talk about it when you get here. But no, I don’t believe it’s a sin anymore. Most people here in San Francisco don’t. Attitudes are changing every day all over the country. Around the world. Gay people can get married in some states. Isaac there’s so much for you out here. Everything’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be great.”

For the first time, Isaac began to believe it. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me either.” The heaviness inside faded away. “Soon. Later this week, all right? I just need a couple of days. There’s church tomorrow, so I can say goodbye to Mervin. I won’t tell him I’m going, but I want to see him before I do.”

“I understand. What about David?”

Although the shame and guilt had receded for the moment, now sorrow settled into Isaac in their absence. “I don’t think he’ll talk to me, but I’ll see him at least. It’s something.”

“He doesn’t want to leave?”

Bitterness twisted Isaac’s lips. “He does, but he’s too afraid.” He rubbed his face. “He can’t leave his mother and sisters. After what his brother did in Red Hills, it’s like he has to pay penance for that.”

“It’s a hard thing, leaving it all behind. But if he changes his mind, I’ll buy his ticket too. There’s room here for you both.”

“Thank you. Aaron, I…I don’t know what I’d do without you. ” He sniffled and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“You’ll never have to find out. Call me when you know the day, and we’ll get it all arranged. I’ll see you soon, Isaac. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

After a moment, there was a click, and a flat noise filled his ear. Isaac looked at the phone and took a guess, pressing one of the buttons. The lights went out, and he stared at the three letters.

END

How long he sat there, he wasn’t sure. Then he was moving, and in the hall one of the doors led to a bathroom. The shadows were growing long, and inside, he took a deep breath and flicked the switch up with his finger. Warm light appeared overhead, and Isaac found himself staring into a wide oval mirror over the sink.