Read Promise to Cherish Online

Authors: Elizabeth Byler Younts

Promise to Cherish (22 page)

“There they are,” Eli whispered. “There’s my family.”

Christine looked where his gaze landed and inhaled deeply. A woman was in the front of a small group of people. She wore a heavy black shawl and bonnet. Below the shawl was the skirt of her navy dress, down to mid-calf. She wore stockings and black, sensible shoes; she walked quickly toward them. All of those details came in a short beat of her heart, but then her eyes landed on the woman’s face. In the distance Christine could see that the woman had a furrowed brow. When her arms reached out toward them, she stepped faster, and her mouth began to quake. This was Eli’s mother.

Eli broke his solid stance and made several great strides toward his mother. She wasn’t short, but next to Eli she appeared small. He took her in his arms and the woman wept. Christine wiped tears from her own eyes. Her eyes scanned the rest of the crowd—it really was a crowd.

An older man stood with his chin up a smidgen more than Christine thought right. He had the same icy, clear eyes as Eli. His beard was nearly white and small tufts of hair could be seen beneath his wide-brimmed black hat. He nodded at her and she
froze. The man’s eyes returned to Eli and his mother’s embrace. Christine was thankful. Near him stood Eli’s brothers. The one who appeared to be the oldest of the brothers stood slightly behind the others. His eyes were brooding. He was a slighter version of Eli, with subtly rounder features in his face. A young woman then walked from around the back and stood nearby with her eyes trained on Eli. She had large eyes and a perfectly rosy complexion. Her pretty face was stretched in gladness. She wore a similar dress to Eli’s mother, though she was half her age.

Was it his brother’s wife or was this Matilda? His
friend
.

A few moments later Eli and his mother separated and his father stepped toward them with an outstretched hand. There was one solid shake and a few claps on their forearms. The two men were equally large and their smiles mirrored each other’s.

A deep, resonant voice escaped the older man and Christine couldn’t understand the words. Each of the boys moved toward Eli and shook hands; all shared the same shy smile she’d seen on Eli the first few times they met. They all wore the same black hats in a variety of sizes just like their father. They all spoke, none of it English and none of it to her. Eli tipped the hat off the smallest boy; a messy mop of blond hair fell around the boy’s forehead.

The little boy spoke and pointed at his mouth. He was missing teeth. Eli pretended to pull more out, sending the boy into a fit of laughter.

Neither the oldest brother, nor the young woman who stood with the unfaltering smile on her lips had approached Eli. Then, the small crowd parted and he walked with several strong strides with an arm out to his brother.

“Mark,” he said.

At least names sounded the same in English and their language. What had he called it? Pennsylvania Dutch?

Eli’s hand hung, waiting for several long moments before Mark uncrossed his arms and took his hand. Neither had a smile
on their face and it was clear to her that Eli was on poor terms with his brother. The men released their hands and Eli turned toward the young woman.

“Matilda,” he said nicely, though after working with him for a year Christine sensed something other than excitement in his tone.

“Eli,” she started, and Christine couldn’t understand anything else she said. Matilda’s voice warbled and she appeared jittery as she blinked excessively. After they shook hands she wrung hers together. Eli spoke back and his words fell heavy in Christine’s ears, unable to understand any of it. She suddenly realized that everyone else was watching her, while she watched Eli and Matilda. As she looked around at all the faces, her body heated and the dampness under her arms increased and stung. Christine pushed her glasses up.

Eli’s conversation finished and he turned toward her and smiled. He walked to her and whispered.

“It’s okay.”

She nodded and tried to smile but when her lips shook, she stopped and pursed them instead.

“This is Christine Freeman. She’s one of the nurses that I worked with, and—” he paused as if trying to find the right words, “I asked her to visit with us for a while.”

Visit for a while. What did that even mean? She pushed up her glasses and made a second attempt at smiling.

“Hello,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m happy to meet all of you.”

She realized after she spoke that she was talking loudly in broken syllables.

“They can understand English,” Eli said. A smirk crossed his lips.

“Of course.” She nodded, her nerves tightening further.

“Welcome, Christine,” Eli’s mother said and stepped toward her with her hand out. “I’m Eli’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Brenneman.” Christine smiled and took the older woman’s hand. Her arm jerked with the strong handshake.

“Please, call me Sarah. We are just simple people ’round here.” The older lady smiled as she spoke, then stepped aside for the next person.

“I’m Eli’s father, Mark David.” He shook her hand in the same fashion.

“I’m David,” a tall young man said, followed by Moses, Abe, and Enos. Each jerked her arm with a single shake. Christine’s shoulder stung.

“I’m Mark,” the second oldest son stepped forward. His shake was weak and when he met her eyes, she saw hate and bitterness.

Christine’s lungs burned. She exhaled the breath she’d been holding. She turned toward Matilda and held out her hand. Matilda put a hand to her mouth and let out a single whimper and muttered something she didn’t understand. She turned and walked back the way they came, only much quicker this time. Everyone stood and watched for several long moments.

“I think you’ve upset her, Eli. Not sure what you expected.” Mark spoke in English. His accent was stronger than Eli’s. He nodded his head toward Christine but his eyes were locked on Eli. “You bring your English girlfriend home for your Amish girlfriend to meet? You ain’t changed a bit, have you?”

Mark looked over at Christine then back to Eli then turned on his heels and walked away.

“Christine’s just a friend.” Eli’s voice was a fading whisper. “And so is Matilda.” He faced his parents and repeated himself. He looked defeated.

Even if Christine could’ve found words to speak, she decided her silence was better than anything she could say.

A long stream of words came from Eli’s father’s mouth. He
pulled at the shirt Eli wore that was clearly not like the shirts his father wore and gestured at Christine, but his eyes stayed on Eli. Eli spat his own words back. His mother splayed her hands out with her eyes darting between both father and son. Even though Christine couldn’t understand her, it was clear she was trying to diffuse the situation. This was all her fault. They were talking about her fate in another language. Everything was collapsing in front of her. The least they could do was speak English.

Christine wanted to tell them that she was leaving and go buy a bus ticket to anywhere else. It wasn’t too late for her to go to the maternity home. Unfortunately, there was no reserve of courage left in her heart. She could only stand there, her mouth agape. Now what was she to do? Eli said that Matilda was only a friend, and she’d never known him to lie to her. It was clear, however, that Matilda was more than a friend, which meant he would have some explaining to do to both of them. He should never have invited her if he and Matilda were a couple.

Ever since she’d taken the time to get to know Eli she had wondered how a man like him could be unattached. He was handsome and so kind and easy to be around. He never met a stranger and always had a smile around the corners of his eyes, if not on his lips. Christine had grown so fond of him, but she was angry he put her in such a precarious position with Matilda. Even though they were supposedly only friends, he should have thought of how this would affect the girl who had clearly been waiting anxiously for his return. And, by the sounds of Mark’s attitude toward him, Eli already had quite a reputation, and her presence was not helping.

The silence froze everyone for what seemed like an hour but really was only a few, long, uncomfortable moments.

“Well, Christine, let’s go find you someplace to sleep tonight. I am sure you’re tired after such a long journey.” Sarah Brenneman motioned for Christine to walk with her. Christine
gave Eli a glance over her shoulder as she passed him. The farther away she was from him, the more her isolation grew. The brothers picked up their luggage and chattered in their language behind her.

Eli’s father drove them back to their farmhouse in an open buggy with three benches. Eli said it was called a Dearborn. She sat next to Eli on the second bench while his parents occupied the front. They followed two other buggies, the black kind with the roof. No one spoke the entire drive and while it seemed to be such a slow way to get anywhere, the rocking movement relaxed her.

They passed farm after farm. The road ahead of them was so flat and the fields seemed endless. It was greener there than back in Poughkeepsie and Christine enjoyed breathing in the cool, spring air. The horses got them to the Brenneman farm just before sundown.

The rest of the evening was a blur. The large farmhouse, the red barns, and the way Matilda ran off crying when they returned to the Brennemans’. Eli called Matilda’s name but she did not stop. His face was labored with burdens. Still he wrapped his hands around Christine’s waist and helped her down as if she weighed nothing more than a doll. When her feet landed on the ground their bodies were close and, for one simultaneous inhale and exhale, they didn’t move.

“I don’t think this was a good idea, Eli.” He looked into her eyes for a brief moment before looking away. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Matilda?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He inhaled and the veins in his forehead pushed against his skin. “She really is just a friend.”

“Then why is she so upset?”

“Eli,” his mother called. Again the rest of what she said was unknown. Christine looked at the woman on the porch of the large white farmhouse. Two little girls bounced around her. Both
of them wore their hair tightly pulled back, one was blond and one was dark-haired. They wore plain blue dresses and no shoes.

“Come meet my baby sisters. I left when they were only about six months old and tomorrow they’ll be two.” His voice was excitable and his eyes bright. He didn’t wait for her but ran up to the porch and put his hands out to his sisters.

Christine watched and while she couldn’t understand the words he said his body language said it all. He was asking for a hug and the girls sucked on their lower lips and looked at each other before squealing and running away. Eli growled as he chased them down to the corner of the porch. After a few moments of more giggles and growls he came back with a girl over each shoulder. Their fat legs kicked as they laughed.

It was like the weight of the lines on his brow had vanished, and Eli looked happier than Christine had ever seen him.

CHAPTER 18

E
li’s welcome wasn’t exactly what he had imagined. Of course, his family was glad to see him. His mother held him for a long time, her grip as tight as it ever was. Her eyes looked older, however. Her hair had gone from a rich brown to nearly salt and pepper. She still looked healthy and merry, which he was glad about. His dad appeared slightly hunched, but his eyes were clear. His hair had been white for a while but his beard was longer than Eli remembered.

But the look on Christine’s face said it all. She was lost. It wasn’t just their language, but their entire culture. The way she looked at his mother’s clothing and how she tucked in her chin as she took in the full view of his father’s wide hat. His father was an imposing man. Everyone always mentioned how Eli and his father were so alike: white-blond, tall, broad, and thick. Naturally his parents were glad he was home; but Mark, on the other hand, could’ve done without him. He clearly was not impressed with his service or his return to the family.

Now they sat at the table preparing to eat their evening meal. Eli’s eyes had to adjust to the dimly lit house after over a year of electric lights. To make Christine feel less uncomfortable he
decided not to change into his usual Amish clothes. Besides, Mark and Sylvia were staying in his room. He didn’t want to make Sylvia feel uncomfortable by going into the space she and his brother shared. It just didn’t seem right to him. Sylvia helped his mother prepare their supper but hadn’t said hello or even made eye contact with him. It was awkward that his most recent ex-girlfriend was now married to his brother. Then, with the confused circumstances with Matilda and Christine, there was part of him that wished he was still at Hudson River.

His mother and Sylvia brought all the food to the table then sat quietly at the table. His father put his hands on his lap as he bowed his head, closing his eyes. Eli followed suit except he didn’t close his eyes. Christine sat next to him and he saw her look around before lowering her head also. He closed his eyes before he knew if she had.

Almost no one spoke during supper, except when Christine loudly commented
good gravy
when the spread was all laid out on the table. His brothers sniggered but no one else commented or spoke. Had it been this way while he’d been away? When would the healthy chatter return? This wasn’t common for his family, who were usually always talkative at mealtimes. There was so much he wanted to talk about, so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to bring more attention to Christine or to what his life had been like during his time away from the church. He wanted to explain that for the first time in his life he realized that not everything was about him. How in the gray halls of the hospital with patients like Wally, Floyd, and Gov he’d found himself. He’d learned that just as he wanted to be accepted as a conscientious objector he needed to value patients who no one else cared for. He wanted to show them that he was better than the person he was before his draft.

“Eli, did you hear what I said?” His mother repeated.

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