The Days of Redemption (41 page)

“Please pass the sweet potato casserole, Roman,” his mother said. “And while you're doing that, perhaps you could at last speak to us about what's happened.”

Feeling like the glass dish weighed three tons, he lifted it and passed it clumsily to Elsie. “Here.”

She took it without a word, but he could almost feel her frustration with him. And he saw clearly that she'd had to shift her hands quickly in order to not drop the dish on the table.

Which made him feel worse than he already did.

“Yesterday after church, Bishop Coblentz told me that I was one of the men who had received the most votes from the congregation for the open preaching position. The five men who were nominated drew hymnals. Mine was the chosen one,” he said matter-of-factly. Because after all, those were the facts.

As he'd expected, no one burst into praise. Or shouted a congratulation. All knew it was a heavy burden to carry, especially in a man his age. Preachers were expected to carry out all sorts of pastoral duties, the same as in any other Christian denomination. However, in the Amish community, the preachers were not supported by the church.

Therefore, men kept their regular jobs, then added the new duties. For some men, it could be too much, especially over a long period of time.

“Well, what do you think about it?” Viola asked.

Roman met his grandfather's gaze. Roman had seen him sit quietly in the back of the barn when the hymnals had been drawn. To his credit, he hadn't said a single word about what had happened, either.

Instead, he'd let Roman have the time he needed to come to terms with what lay ahead.

“There is nothing to think about,” Roman declared. “What's done is done. Besides, it's the Lord's decision.”

“
Jah
, that is true,” his grandfather said with a nod. But he didn't look entirely in agreement with his words. “Accepting God's calling is not always easy to do, but it is necessary. A man who accepts God's will without complaint is a man to be respected.”

Just as his grandmother nodded, Viola shook her head. “Hold on. I understand that you had no choice but to be in the lot, and that you've accepted the Lord's calling.”

He raised a brow. “But?”

“But you must have some opinion about it. Are you excited? Nervous? Upset? Confident?”

“It doesn't matter what I think.” Roman shifted uncomfortably, wishing he could ease out of the room and sit and stew in private.

“Of course it matters what you think,” Elsie blurted. “As a matter of fact, I think it might matter a lot.”

Elsie's comment drew more than one startled glance. “How so?” their
mamm
asked quietly.

“Well, the Lord's will may be final, but that doesn't mean we have to agree with His decisions.”

“Elsie, you can't mean that,” their grandmother exclaimed.

“Sure I do,” Elsie countered. “I mean, I've accepted that one day I won't see . . . that one day I will no longer enjoy the sunrise or spring pansies or the sight of your faces. I've accepted that will be my future, but I'm not happy about it.”

Around the table, everyone lowered their heads, anxious to change the subject as almost always happened when Elsie mentioned her disease.

But instead of remaining quiet like she usually did, she glared. “Ignoring things doesn't make them better. But sometimes talking about how we feel can make our burdens easier to bear.”

To Roman's surprise, it was their grandmother who spoke up. “That is true, Elsie. You are right. We should all be talking about things that are on our mind. Roman, I know your father isn't here to advise you. Have you found someone to talk things through with?”

There was no way he was going to share his private thoughts around the dinner table. He could hardly imagine what they might say about his love for Amanda Yoder and his fear about preaching in front of the whole church.

“There's no need to discuss anything, Mommi,” he said sharply. “I gave my consent to be considered to the Bishop, I drew that hymnal, and I've accepted the Lord's choice.”

His grandmother didn't look cowed in the slightest. “But what about the girl in Florida?”

He set his fork down. “Amanda?”

She looked impatient. “Of course I mean Amanda. I've seen you on the phone in the kitchen, Roman. Hasn't she been the girl you've been talking to?”

“I've been calling her. And writing,” he admitted somewhat grudgingly. Because, well, his phone calls weren't his grandmother's business.

“Well, then? What are you going to do about her?”

His temper broke. “Well, then?” he echoed. “Well, I have no idea. I hadn't planned on being a preacher, and especially not anytime soon.”

Now that he'd begun, he could hardly stop; it was like another person had taken ahold of his tongue. “Actually, I'd been hoping to see her again, but now it looks like the Lord has made other plans for me.”

Standing up, he pushed the chair out behind him with a noisy scrape. “I'm sorry, Mamm. I'll clean up my plate in a moment. But for now, I need to get out of here.”

Like a sulking child, he tore out of the room, pulled open the back door, and raced outside.

Only when the cold wind whipped against his cheeks did he realize he was crying.

And only then did he speak the awful, awful question that had been brewing in his stomach from the first moment Bishop Coblentz had asked him to chat. “Why me, Gott? Why me? Why now?”

Chapter Fifteen

While the rest of the family sat stunned, staring at the closed door, Viola stood up. She couldn't simply sit and worry, and she certainly didn't feel ready to debate Roman's behavior with her mother and grandparents. “I'm going to start clearing the table, Mamm.”

Her mother looked at her in surprise. “Oh. Well, all right . . .”

“I'll help,” Elsie said just as quickly.

More than ever, Viola was thankful for her twin. Elsie was the one person she never needed to hide her feelings from. It was usually because she was feeling the same way. After picking up both her plate and Roman's, she walked to the kitchen. Elsie followed with her own plate in her hands.

Once they were together in the privacy of the kitchen, they put down the plates on the counter and stared at each other in wonder as they began to fill the sink to drown out their voices.

Elsie broke the silence. “Have you ever seen Roman like this before?”

“You know I haven't,” Viola answered, adding soap to the water. “Gosh, Elsie, I didn't even think Roman knew
how
to be angry. All he's ever done is hold his temper and calmly discuss things.”

“He's always been the one to remind us to be patient.”

“And to pray and follow the Lord's way,” Viola added. When they were younger, Roman's patient, preachy ways had driven her crazy. He'd never understood her need to act on things impulsively, and had made no bones about sharing his opinions.

Elsie lowered her voice. “I think he really is missing that woman. I know he misses Daed, too. And now he's been given this new responsibility. I can't even imagine what he's feeling. I bet he's worried and frustrated and hurting.”

Elsie always did have a way of reading other people clearly. “I bet you're right.”

“I sure don't know how to help him, though.”

“Elsie, there's got to be a way to make things better. He's a
gut
man, and a
gut bruder
. I want him to be happy.”

“I know, but he's got to come to terms with the reality. He's pining for a woman who lives over a thousand miles away. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much you want something. Sometimes you have to understand that there are things you simply can't change.”

Viola felt her heart clench, knowing that Elsie was referencing her disease. “I agree, but maybe Amanda could come here? Then Roman could see Amanda without leaving the farm and his new church responsibilities.”

“I don't know if Roman will feel comfortable asking that. A woman likes to be pursued. Plus she has a daughter. Roman said she had a nice life out there in Florida.”

“We could ask.”

Elsie's eyebrows rose. “You mean
Roman
could ask her.”

“No, I mean
we
could give her a call and ask her if she'd be interested in visiting. If she says yes, then we can let Roman know.”

“He won't like that.”

“That's true, but that's also what sisters are for, I think. To meddle in places where their brothers don't want them involved.” As Elsie shook her head slowly, Viola couldn't help but grin. “Oh, come on, twin. It will be like we're
kinner
again.”

“No, following him around on the playground at school would be like we were
kinner
again. This is interfering with his life, Viola.”

“It's in his best interests.” She pushed away Elsie's protests by gesturing to the dining room. “We better finish clearing the table before Mamm asks what we are doing.”

“I know what you're doing, you know,” Elsie said. “You're hatching a plot that I'm going to have to put into play—and have to deal with the consequences of.”

“What do you mean?”

“While you're in Belize, I'll be here, dealing with the repercussions.”

Viola felt slightly guilty. But not guilty enough to back down. “You're always telling us you're stronger than we think, sister. Now you can prove it.”

And with that, she strode back into the dining room and picked up her grandparents' plates. They were deep in discussion with their mother. Not one of them even looked Elsie's and Viola's way as they finished clearing the table.

And just like that, Viola felt every bit of her exuberance fade away. Her family was feeling the burden of change more than ever.

When they returned to the kitchen, she noticed that Elsie's playful manner had faded as well.

After scraping the plates, Elsie walked to her side, a dishcloth in her hand. As Viola washed each plate, Elsie silently dried it and put it in the cupboard. It was a task they'd easily done a hundred times before, and the familiar comfort of the chore brought a peace that an hour-long conversation never could have done.

When their stack of dirty dishes was gone and the leftovers neatly put away, Elsie turned to her. “Viola, you are exactly right. Something needs to be done for Roman. It's not in his nature to push for something he wants. He's always been the member of the family to stand aside while the rest of us get our way.” She paused. “Roman deserves happiness. We all do.” Taking a deep breath, Elsie added, “If you don't have time to call Amanda, I will.”

“Are you sure? Tomorrow I can get Amanda's phone number from Beth.”

“I can do that, too, Viola. Actually, calling Amanda will make me feel good inside. Useful.”

“
Danke
, Elsie,” she said quietly, feeling her sister's resolve.

 

More than a week had passed since Amanda and Regina had returned to their regular schedule. But even though they were now settled only a few minutes away from the beach, everything felt different. Gone were the Pop-Tarts and beach towels. In their places were eggs and oatmeal and rain boots.

For some reason, the sun had decided to begin a vacation when they left the beach. Their usual sunny days were now filled with rain clouds.

“Mamm, when will it ever stop raining?” Regina asked from her spot at the window.

“When the time is right, I suppose,” Amanda said to her daughter as she finished packing Regina's lunch.

She slumped. “I'm tired of the rain.”

“I know.”

“It's ruining our day.”

“Well, it will make us wet,” Amanda corrected. “But I'm not so sure if it's been ruining our day.” As she watched her daughter continue to stare at the rain out the window with disappointment, she brightened her voice. “You know, it's a good thing we aren't too sweet, Regina. Otherwise we'd melt in the rain.”

“I don't want to melt.”

Of course, Regina had taken her statement seriously—she took all her statements seriously. And there was no reason she would have ever heard her grandfather's saying about melting in the rain before. Living in Pennsylvania, Amanda's parents hadn't had the opportunity to spend much time with Regina. “I was only joking, dear. I meant that a little rain never hurt anyone. It's not a terrible thing.”

“I still feel sad.”

“And why is that? Does the rain make you feel gloomy?”

“
Nee
. On rainy days, Mommi only wants to look out the window and talk about Daed.”

Amanda winced. Soon she was going to have to find a different situation for Regina. Her mother-in-law's perpetual state of mourning wasn't healthy.

“I am sorry about that. We could pack you some books to look at while you're with your grandmother.”

“All right.” Regina scampered off to her room to retrieve the thick canvas book bag that held her dozen library books.

Fighting off the feeling of guilt that was nagging at her, Amanda carefully closed up Regina's lunch bag, smiling as she did so. About four months ago, while grocery shopping at the store, Regina had seen a bright purple nylon lunch sack with Velcro on the ends of it. Decorating the sturdy fabric were yellow and orange starfish and red polka-dotted seals. Amanda had privately thought it was an ugly, garish design, but Regina?—she'd fallen in love.

For weeks she'd complained about the sturdy basket lined with pretty cloth napkins that Amanda used for her lunch. It was too heavy. It didn't keep the food cold. Amanda had tried to hold firm, but then didn't see the harm in a new lunch bag for her daughter. They'd gone to the store and bought it together. Ever since, Regina had carried it with pride.

Funny how something so small could matter so much to a little girl.

She was still thinking about that when the phone rang, jarring her thoughts. “Hello?”

“Is this Amanda Yoder?”

“It is,” she said hesitantly. She didn't get many telemarketers, but this woman didn't sound like she was selling anything.

“My name is Elsie Keim. I'm Roman's sister.”

Her heart leapt to her chest. “Is Roman hurt? Is something wrong?”

“Hurt? Oh goodness, no. He's fine. Well, kind of fine. He could be better.”

Well, if that wasn't the strangest comment! “I'm afraid I don't understand.”

“I'm, uh, calling to invite you and your daughter to Ohio. To Berlin. Would you like to visit us?”

Instantly the pictures Roman had created in her mind tumbled forth. She started thinking of snowmen and crisp, cold air. Pine trees and scarves and mittens. “Thank you for the invitation. But why are you asking me instead of Roman?” And furthermore, she chided herself, why was she even considering such a thing?

“Well,” Elsie began, “my brother has recently been called to be our district's newest preacher. It's a heavy responsibility, you know.”

“Yes?”

“Anyway, we all know that he wants to see you, and was hoping to plan another trip to Florida, but now he canna get away.”

“I see.” That told her many things, but not why Roman wasn't the one asking her to visit.

“No, I don't think you do,” Elsie replied, just as if she could read Amanda's mind. “See, my brother is the type of man who doesn't care to make waves for anyone. When he learned of this new responsibility, he decided to work hard to honor it.”

“I still don't understand why you are calling and not him.”

“Because he is stubborn. We all know you and your daughter mean a lot to him, but we also know that he's the type of man to put everyone else's wishes and needs before his own. He wants to see you, but doesn't want to let that interfere with his duties at the farm.”

“Elsie, do you mean to tell me that you are inviting me without his knowledge?”

“Actually . . . that would be true.”

Amanda could tell that Elsie was getting impatient with all her questions. But while Amanda knew that she longed to drop everything for a surprise visit to see Roman, she certainly could never do that with Regina's heart on the line. Never could she risk taking Regina to a place where she wasn't wanted. Her little girl had already been through so much.

“I appreciate the invitation, but I cannot accept. It wouldn't be right.”

“No, it would be right. Roman will love that you're here. I promise you that.”

“I'm not thinking of him, I'm thinking of my daughter. She is who I must concentrate on.”

After a pause, Elsie spoke again. “Yes, I suppose so. Well, I'm sorry for the phone call. I hope I haven't offended you.”

“Not at all. I can only imagine what it must be like to have a
shveshtah
who loved me so much.”

When she hung up, she noticed Regina lurking at the edge of the kitchen.

“Who was on the phone, Mamm?”

“Roman's sister Elsie.”

“Why did she call?”

“Merely to ask me something.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I didn't know the answer,” she said quickly. Clearing her throat, which seemed suspiciously tight all of the sudden, she said, “Now, daughter, it is time to get on our way.” She held up the lunch tote. “You need to get to your grandparents' house and I need to go to work.”

“Even in the rain?”

“Yes, dear. Even in the rain we must do what we are supposed to do.”

Always. Even when she wished to do otherwise. Even then.