The Days of Redemption (38 page)

Her smiled deepened.

He cleared his throat. “So, may we continue to talk to each other and write?”

“I would like that.”

“
Gut
.”

“Roman, do you think anything will come of this?”

“I don't know. I suppose this friendship of ours can turn into anything we want. Maybe one day we'll decide that we fancy other people instead. Or maybe one day I'll want to move out here with you. Or you'll want to move to Ohio.”

“Talk like that makes my head spin.”

“It doesn't have to.” Little by little, his tentativeness evaporated. He knew what he wanted. “Amanda, I want to be the person in your life who you can relax with. My needs right now are simple—at least where the two of us are concerned. See, I only want what you want.”

“That's it?”

“Pretty much. Well, I want us to continue to be friends, at the very least.” Yes, he certainly wanted so much more than mere friendship from her, but he was willing to wait until she was ready for more.

She gazed at him. Studied his face. “All right. Yes, let's go where this takes us.”

“You sound almost sure,” he teased.

She chuckled. “I'm not sure about much right now—it's all such a surprise to me. But I do happen to know one thing I'm sure of, and that's that I don't want to stop figuring out what our future holds, Roman. Getting to know you, feeling what I'm feeling? It's been like a sudden ray of light in my life. Almost an awakening. I've gone from expecting every day to be muted and gray to expecting something new.”

If she hadn't been through so much he would have held her close.

But because she wasn't ready for more, he kicked his feet out in front of him, rolled up his pant legs, and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes as he felt the cooling breeze dance across his cheeks.

He sensed her body tense in confusion. “Roman, what are you doing?”

“Fully intending to enjoy your company, that's what.” He peeked at her through one eye. “Is that a problem?”

After a moment, she shook her head. “
Nee
. Not at all.”

“
Gut
. See, Amanda, all we have to do right now is take things one step at a time. The Lord will guide us from there.”

To his amusement, she copied his position. “Roman, being around you makes me happy. I'm going to miss you.”

Gazing over at her pretty face, seeing the vulnerability and strength that made her who she was, he said, “I'm going to miss you, too, Amanda. Very much.”

Already he was missing her. And already he was wondering when they could see each other again.

Chapter Ten

Viola had just set her suitcase on her bed when her grandmother wandered into the room and sat down on the window seat. In her hands were a pair of quilted pot holders. The front of each was decorated with a beautiful star pattern. Viola recognized much of the fabric—it looked as if her grandmother had been putting the scraps of fabric from the dresses for Lorene's wedding to good use.

“Hi, Mommi,” she said politely. “I was just getting ready to pack.”

“Elsie told me. I thought I'd come upstairs and see for myself.” Glaring at the open suitcase, she said, “Our
haus
suddenly feels like a turnstile, the way you and Roman keep coming and going. Why, practically every time I turn around, it looks like one of you has a suitcase out.”

Viola shook her head. Her grandmother was either exaggerating for no reason at all . . . or she was feeling a little left out.

“Mommi, we all know that I've never left Berlin and Holmes County before. It's time, don'tcha think?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She looked at the pot holders in her hands, but said nothing about them.

The lackluster agreement inspired Viola to now stick up for her brother. “And Roman—he is only returning from his first vacation.”

But instead of sounding more understanding, Mommi scrunched her brows together, making the lines in between her eyebrows deepen. “That is true.”

Viola sighed. Her grandmother could be such a stickler sometimes. “There's nothing wrong with taking days off. Even God took time to rest,
jah
?”

“I suppose.”

She decided her grandmother needed a change in subject. She thought about the phone call she'd received from her cousin Beth. It seemed Roman had developed quite a friendship with the woman staying in the condominium next door. Far closer than what he'd led them to believe in his letters.

Viola couldn't wait for his bus to arrive in Berlin so that she could talk to him about it. “I'm just glad Roman enjoyed himself. Beth said he had a good time, Mommi,” she said almost patiently. “We all need good times in our lives,
jah
?”

“Well, of course,” her grandmother grumbled. After a pause, she said, “What did he do with all his time?”

“Beth said he played shuffleboard and walked on the beach. Slept late. Ate at restaurants.”

“Hmmph.” She paused, then said, “It's sure to be different where you're going. Have you thought of that?”

“
Jah
.”

“Belize sounds like a dangerous place,” she said a little more softly. ”I hope you'll be all right there.”

Finally, Viola understood her grandmother's motivation for the visit. She was worried about her. “It sounds beautiful. I can't wait to go,” she said firmly. So far, she'd pushed all of her worries about being in a strange country like Belize far out of her mind. All she was focused on was seeing Edward.

“You're the first person I've heard of to get a passport.”

“Ed got one. All the folks at the mission have them, too.”

Mommi folded her arms over her chest and peered at Viola through her bifocals. “Are you scared, child?” she asked at last. “Because it would be understandable if you were.”

“I am scared. I mean, I am, a little bit.” She wanted to pretend she wasn't worried about flying alone on an airplane, or visiting a foreign country. But she was. “I'm trying not to be. I don't want Edward to think I can't handle this.”

“He seems like the kind of man who only cares about you being happy, Viola.”

“He is that kind of man. But I want him to feel proud of me, too.”

Her grandmother peered at her some more, then finally handed over the pair of pot holders. “I thought you might like to give these to the folks at the mission.”

“They're beautiful.”

“Oh, they're just from scraps I had lying around. But the folks down in Belize might like them.”

“I'm sure they will, Mommi.
Danke
.” Carefully, Viola set them at the bottom of her suitcase.

After a moment, her grandmother reached out a hand again. But this time, it was to enclose Viola's in hers. “There's no shame in being afraid of something that's unfamiliar. It's to be expected.”

“You truly believe that?”

“I do,” her grandmother said with a small smile. “After all, I've been in your shoes a time or two, you know.”

Never had Viola recalled her grandmother speaking so cryptically. “Are you speaking of when you became Amish?” she asked.

After a pause, her grandmother nodded. “I suppose I am.” Her eyes widened, and then, to Viola's astonishment, she chuckled. “After all these many years of keeping my past a secret, I now have the strangest urge to talk about that time. It's like I just let the genie out of the bottle.”

Viola didn't know what she meant by that, but she let it pass, eager to get more information before her grandmother changed her mind. Her grandmother was one of the most private people she'd ever known. “Why did you leave your English life and become Amish, Mommi? Was it because you fell in love with Grandfather? What did you miss? What did your parents say?”

“One question at a time, Viola!”

“Well then, tell me why you became Amish.”

“It was because of Aaron.” She bit her lip, then added, “At least a big part of the reason was because of him.”

“What were your other reasons?”

Mommi looked around the neat room, then finally smoothed a hand along the intricate quilt on Viola's bed. “Before I met your grandfather, I made some mistakes in judgment. I, um, had gotten my heart broken.”

“You did?”

“Very much so. This boy, well, he upset me.” She opened her mouth, looked like she was going to continue, then pursed her lips instead. “It was a long time ago, of course.”

“Was this boy an
Englischer
?”

“Don't act so surprised, Viola.
Englischers
fall in love, too.” With a wince, she added, “And fall out of love, as well.”

“It must have been mighty exciting.”

“It didn't feel like that at the time. It, ah, was a dark time for me.”

“I'm sorry. That was rude.”

“
Nee
, you are only being honest. Believe me, I'd rather us be honest with each other than not. Keeping secrets and spouting lies didn't serve me well.”

Seeing the faraway expression in her grandmother's eyes, Viola forgot all about her own problems. “So, who did you love, Mommi? Was he handsome?”

Mommi chuckled. “He was handsome, indeed.” Her grandmother's expression softened. “At least, I thought so.”

“Then how—”

“Quiet, child. This is my story, and it happened quite a long time ago. Let me tell it my way.”

“Of course. I'm sorry.”

Looking a bit amused, her grandmother gazed out the window, then said, “Well, it all started when I decided to help with the football players float.”

“What's a float?”

“For us, it was a trailer bed that you would hook to the back of a big truck. We'd decorate it with balloons and crepe paper. Then people would stand on it during a parade. I liked one of the football players, so I made sure I was helping with their float for the parade.”

“And?”

“And it was great fun. There was lots of laughter, and flirting with the boys . . . and then Jack started talking to me.”

“Jack was the boy you liked.”

“He was. I'd liked him for some time. Then, one day, he liked me, too.” She took a breath, but just as she was about to say more, Viola's grandpa came in.

“What are you talking about, Lovina?” His voice was hard with disapproval.

With a look of warning in her direction, Mommi shrugged. “Nothing too important. Was there something you needed?”

“Supper.”

“Goodness, I hadn't noticed the time.” Immediately, she got to her feet. “Viola, we'll have to talk another time,” she said, then quickly disappeared out the door with her husband.

Viola felt like she'd been left on the side of a hill and she didn't know whether to climb up or down. Or to hold tight where she was and hope no strong winds came along.

Frustrated, she glared at the door and wished with all her might that her grandfather had decided to enter just a few minutes later.

But then she realized that her grandmother's story had done a very good thing. Now she was no longer only thinking about how scared she was.

Instead, she was wondering how her grandparents had become the people they were, and what experiences in her life would shape her character. Make her the person she would one day be. Would moving to Belize change her for good?

Chapter Eleven

The gray skies seemed grayer in Berlin. Roman frowned in annoyance as he looked out the window of the bus. It felt as if the dreary color was draining all of the life right out of him with each passing mile.

Depression lurked on the edge of his heart as he spied the familiar landmarks.

He'd be home soon—which meant he'd be even farther from Sarasota, Florida. And though he'd made every effort to think positively about his future with Amanda, Roman knew those dreams were going to be almost impossible to turn into reality.

She had a life in Pinecraft, and he had a load of responsibilities right here in Ohio. His father was in a rehabilitation center. His mother was at her wit's end. One of his sisters was almost blind, the other was days away from visiting her fiancé in Belize. Therefore it was up to Roman to take care of the majority of the farm.

And do the majority of the work as well.

Roman didn't begrudge the work. He'd never minded working in the fields and helping to make his family's land more prosperous and profitable. But at the moment, the responsibilities weighed on him something awful.

For the first time in his life, he wanted something different from what he had.

He glanced out at the clouds again and noticed they'd darkened even more. Snow was likely on the way. He sighed in frustration. Of course it was.

The man sitting next to him noticed. “You've been on this bus ever since it left Pinecraft, haven't ya?”

“Yes.” The bus had made several stops along its way north. More than a few people had boarded in Cincinnati, while others had switched buses there, some heading west toward Indianapolis like his cousins. But he'd been on it for the entire long journey.

The older man grunted in satisfaction. “I thought so. You're wearing that look.”

“What look is that?”

“The one that says the beach and bright sunlight are now months away,” he said with a cackle. “Don't feel bad. I was wearing that same expression three weeks ago.”

“So it fades?” He didn't bother describing the feeling. The man had already pegged it perfectly.

“In my case it fades because I'm always anxious to get home. There's no place like home, you know.” He flashed a smile as he paused for breath. “You married yet?”

“
Nee
.”

“Don't want to impose, but my advice is to find a woman you fancy and soon.”

“Is that right?”

The man didn't catch the sarcasm. “Oh, for sure. Son, get settled down in a place of your own. Have a houseful of
kinner
. That will keep you grounded. You'll be settled and happy wherever you are, because you'll have the people who matter to you most close at hand.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” To his surprise, he truly meant the words. Roman wanted to dismiss the words of wisdom out of hand, but he actually thought the advice made a lot of sense. “
Danke
.”

“Glad I could help.” After stretching his arms a bit, he looked around his seat with a slight grimace. “I suppose I better start getting my things in order,” the man said. “Before you know it, we'll be stopping in Berlin.”

Roman glanced out the window. Saw the cheese house and the row of shops that lined Market Street. They'd be arriving at the German Village shops in less than five minutes.

There, Viola or Uncle Samuel would be waiting for him in the buggy. They'd ask him about his trip, and it would be his duty to tell them just enough to assure them that his vacation had been
wonderful-gut
.

But not let on how disappointed he was to be back home. Letting them know that truth wouldn't help anyone.

Since he had nothing to organize, Roman stared out the window again and watched the automobiles pass by. Watched an Amish woman walking beside her man, both of them bundled up against the weather.

Noticed a pair of English teenagers dressed in jeans and thick coats and holding hands.

And realized for the first time that he didn't mind the idea of marriage and children anymore. Perhaps it was because when he thought of marriage now, he thought of brilliant blond hair that glinted against the bright rays of sunlight. And when he thought of children, it was in the form of a dark-haired little girl with a fondness for ice cream and animals. Who'd claimed his heart when she'd held out a soft, pudgy hand.

With a bit of regret, he realized it wasn't the lack of sunlight he minded, it was the lack of Amanda and Regina.

Unfortunately, he was far more likely to see the sun than them anytime soon.

 

It was always harder to pack up to go home than it was to prepare to arrive. Somehow they always left with twice the amount they arrived with.

Standing in front of a pile of sand toys, Amanda shook her head. “Regina, where did all of this . . . this stuff come from?”

“The stores, I think?” Regina said, completely serious.

Which, of course, made Amanda chuckle. That's what she got for asking rhetorical questions of her very literal daughter.

“I think you might be right about that, dear. But I sure don't know how we're going to load everything in the van when the driver gets here.”

“When is he coming?” Regina plopped down on the top cement step and daintily crossed her bare feet in front of her.

“In about thirty minutes.”

Regina backed away with a fierce frown. “I sure wish he wasn't.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we have to go back to our regular house.”

Regina spoke so dramatically, Amanda couldn't resist teasing her a bit. “And you don't care for our house anymore? You have a lovely room at home.”

“I like my room. . . . ” she said slowly, then closed up her mouth tight.

There was definitely more upsetting Regina than the end of a vacation. “What will you miss here?”

“Goldie.”

Ah, yes. That silly, adorable dog that had claimed all of their hearts with her happy manner and insatiable need to chase crabs. “I'll miss Goldie, too.”

“She needs a home, Mamm.”

“I know. But . . . I just don't think we're ready to have Goldie at our house in town.”

“But I miss her.” Looking petulant, she said, “I'm going to miss the beach, too.”

“Ah, well, we'll visit the beach soon.”

“I'm going to miss you, too.”

“Me?” Amanda looked at her in surprise. “Child, you're making no sense. I'll still be with you when we get home.”

“I know, Momma.” Regina turned away with a little nod, and a somewhat bleak, resigned look on her face.

Amanda couldn't let that go. Brushing a wayward curl from her daughter's forehead, she said, “Regina, tell me what you mean. I promise, I won't get mad.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She sat down on the step next to her little girl, thought about grasping her hand, but decided against it when she noticed how tightly Regina had her hands fisted together. “Please talk to me. Why do you think you won't have me at home?”

“When you are home, you get sad.”

With effort, she attempted to hide the shock she felt. She'd tried so hard to keep her depression hidden. But obviously, she hadn't been able to hide much. “Not so much anymore.”

Regina shook her head. “It's true. You do. And you don't laugh as much.”

“Well, that is to be expected. I'm working and taking care of you and our home. That's a lot to do. But we're still together a lot.”

“It doesn't feel like it.”

Amanda was about to argue that point, but decided to hold her tongue. After all, she knew what her daughter meant. Things were different in their “regular” lives. She did work a lot, and she was pretty much tired all the time, too. “I'll try to be better.”

“Uh-huh.” Her daughter squirmed a bit. Poked at a roving ant with her big toe.

Amanda watched her, wondering what else she could say that would reduce her worries but wouldn't get her hopes up too much.

Because, well, things would be different when they got home again.

Looking bored with the ant, Regina sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Momma, I liked Roman.”

Amanda stilled. At first it felt like that comment came out of nowhere, but she was starting to realize that Regina was finally feeling comfortable enough to speak her mind, and this was what was on her mind. “I liked Roman, too. But he had to go back to his own home in Ohio.”

“I wish he was still here.”

“I know, dear.” Amanda drew a breath, ready to end this barrage of wistful thinking.

But Regina interrupted her thoughts. “You smiled when you were with him. A lot. And he made me smile, too.”

Yes, there were lots of things to like about that man. And many things she was going to miss, too. “Roman was a
verra
nice man.”

“I miss him.”

“We hardly knew him.” But even as she said the words, she knew she was lying. She felt like she'd known him all her life.

Regina turned away again, telling Amanda without words that she disagreed with her mother.

Well, she had raised a smart girl.

Standing up, Amanda held out a hand. “Come now, dear. Let's stop wishing for things that we can't have.”

Regina ignored her hand. “Momma, are we ever going to see him again?”

“We might. It depends if he wants to come back to visit.”

Regina's eyes widened, then she pursed her lips and quietly nodded. “Okay.”

“Regina, Roman was just a vacation friend. At least, that's all he is now.” And perhaps one day she'd even believe that.

“Are you going to talk to Mommi about him when she calls?”

“Definitely not.”

“I heard her say she wanted to ask you questions.” Her bottom lip puffed out in between a set of tiny white teeth. “I heard that.”

“I know she did. But Gina, that doesn't mean I have to answer them. I hope you don't start telling tales about Roman to your grandmother. No good will come out of that.” The moment she heard her words, heard her tone, Amanda regretted saying anything. She'd managed to frighten her daughter—all because she was confused about her life and what she wanted.

Tears filled Regina's eyes.

Quickly, Amanda sat back down and wrapped her arms around her daughter's thin frame. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak to you like that. Everything will be fine, you'll see.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Before you know it, we'll be settled and snug in our very own house and we'll be glad we're not here any longer. I promise, that will happen.”

After a moment, Regina hugged Amanda back, then stood up. “I'm going to go check my room again.”

“All right, dear.”

But instead of jumping to her feet and attempting to organize all of their things one more time, Amanda stayed seated.

And gazed through the screen door at the pile of clothes neatly folded by the door . . . to an empty box of Pop-Tarts in the trash, and the open window beyond. The breeze blew in the fresh scent of salt and ocean.

Funny, it now smelled like freedom.