The Scent of Cherry Blossoms: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country (15 page)

E
llen’s husband snored softly as she got up. Unable to sleep, she slid into her housecoat and shoes before going downstairs. They’d worked so hard to keep their family intact, and now love threatened to rip it apart? It just didn’t seem right.

She went to the refrigerator and poured herself a cup of milk. A noise coming from the master bedroom caught her attention, and she went toward it. She and David slept upstairs in Aden and Roman’s old bedroom. The master bedroom, the one on the main floor with its own bathroom, was like a lot of things since the accident—it had to be given up for Roman’s sake.

Roman wheeled out of his room, wearing boxers and a T-shirt. His eyes met hers, and even in the dark she could see the taut lines across his face. She moved past him to peer into the bedroom. Aden wasn’t in bed. Roman’s bed was a wreck, and everything that had been on his side table was now scattered on the floor. “Is Aden home?”

Roman shrugged, but clearly he’d managed to get into his wheelchair by himself. Apparently, he hadn’t been in bed long enough for his muscles to become intolerably stiff.

“So suddenly you want to protect your brother?”

“What I want is for things to go back to the way they were before
she
arrived.”

Grief mixed with raw panic, making it hard for her to breathe. They’d have no way to make a living without the diner. “I need some fresh air.” She went to the door and stepped onto the porch, reminding herself to hold on to hope.

Roman came outside and parked his wheelchair near the porch swing. “What Aden’s doing isn’t right, Mamm.”

She sat and rocked, asking God to give her the right words. “We don’t need to talk about him right now. I want to know what’s going on with you.”

Roman stared at the stars for a long moment. “I’m like you—just worried about what Aden is doing, the problems it’ll cause for all of us.”

“I think that’s only part of it. If I dragged him back here right now … if he ended it with Annie tonight, it wouldn’t solve what’s going on between you two. It’d probably make things worse for a long, long time.”

“It’s so unfair.”

“You think what’s happening to Aden is fair?”

He stared off into the night sky. “Aden’s shut me out. I’m gone a week, and he replaces me with Annie—and what he can be with her.”

“That’s not really surprising. You’re twenty-two years old. All siblings go through a time of separation as they get older and are ready to go their separate ways, start their own families.”

Roman rubbed the smooth armrest of the porch swing. “After the accident I … I thought he’d always be here, him and me together.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m holding out for it to happen with a nice Amish girl, but either way he will eventually leave the nest.”

He looked at his mother with tear-filled eyes. “But what about me?”

Ellen leaned back and folded her arms. “What about you?”

“I can’t build a life with any woman,” he choked out.

“You don’t know that. Not yet, anyway. It takes more time for some people to find a mate. I think you’ll find a girl who sees the best in you—if you don’t ruin the possibility with all your bitterness first.”

He scoffed. “Like Linda saw the best in me?”

Pinpricks of angst ran over her skin. He’d been dating a lovely girl before the accident. She’d stayed by his side at the hospital, holding his hand, whispering words of encouragement to him. But when the doctor said his injuries were permanent and he’d never walk again, her visits became more sporadic. Her attitude toward him grew distant. Shortly after he returned home in a wheelchair, she told him she couldn’t see him anymore. Roman hadn’t pursued another girl since.

“What about the girl at Gideon and Mattie’s wedding?”

“I only did that to get Aden to spend time with someone besides Annie.” He shrugged. “And maybe I wanted to cause some trouble between them.”

“Maybe?”

“Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

“Well … tell me about that date.”

“We were having a pretty good time … until she saw how much work Aden exerted putting my wheelchair into the carriage and lifting me onto the seat. Then all she could do was stare at my mangled legs.”

She longed to promise him that, given time, he’d find a girl, but that might not ever happen, and she wouldn’t lie. “It’s possible that one day you’ll find someone who accepts you unconditionally. Who decides that your spinal cord injury isn’t too much to live with. Someone who sees past the chair and likes you for who you are.”

He intertwined his fingers, staring at them. “I only know one woman who fits that description.”

She leaned forward. “That’s a start. Who?”

His lips tugged upward a bit, as if he was fighting a smile. “Uncle Ernie’s neighbor, Marian Lee.”

Marian Lee. The name rang a bell. “Is she the one who called here a week or so ago?”

“That’s her.”

“Isn’t she the one who wrote you all those letters after the accident?”

“Ya.” His voice carried a softness she hadn’t heard in a long time.

“As I recall, you didn’t answer most of them. Have you called her since she called here?”

“I’m going to bed.” He rolled toward the door and waited. It was his way of saying the subject was closed.

She stood and opened the screen and solid door for him. “Well, maybe you should write or call her.”

“I don’t think so, Mamm. We landed in a good place the other night when she called. I’m leaving well enough alone.” He rolled into the house and toward his room.

“Roman.”

He stopped and turned back to her.

She put a hand on each arm of his chair and kissed his cheek. “You have to face your fears, or you’ll paralyze your life. You can become someone who doesn’t resent his brother falling in love. Who doesn’t try to manipulate him for selfish purposes. You can be someone who has the courage to try to be in a relationship or who has the peace to live single. And probably without Aden at some point. But to become that man, it’ll take reaching for the unfathomable strength of the One who created you.”

He headed for his room. “You want me to draw strength from a God who left me like this?”

“Do you need any help?” she asked, knowing she wasn’t up to the task of aiding him with much.

“No, but thanks.” With his back to her, he waved his hand. “If anything gets too hard, I’ll just pray about it and wait for an answer.”

Weary of battles, Ellen waited outside her son’s room until the silence told her he’d gotten into bed. She went out back, watching for Aden to return. Leaning against a huge oak tree, she prayed for wisdom and soaked in the sounds and scents of spring. The smell of freshly plowed earth. The low-pitched, slow call of the chuck-will’s-widow. But she couldn’t fully enjoy any of them. Not with such tension between her boys.

Finally she saw Aden walking through the back field. Gathering her robe and her courage, she went across the lawn to meet him.

When he spotted her, he stopped in his tracks for a moment. The pain and confusion she saw in him ran as deep as what she’d seen in Roman.

He lowered his head. “What am I g-going to do?”

Ellen wished she knew. Wished there was an easy answer. All she wanted was for her sons to be happy. “Sometimes temporary happiness results in long-term misery. We’re all tempted to go our own way at times, Aden.”

“It’s not l-like that.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“How d-did you know you’d love every child you c-conceived before you ever held us in your arms?”

“That’s different.”

“Answer m-me.”

She ran her fingertips from her forehead back to her ponytail, suddenly aware that her hair wasn’t pinned up properly and she didn’t have on her prayer Kapp. “I just knew.”

“Ya, m-me too.”

They walked back to the house together and sat on the back steps.

“Son, if you continue on this path, there’s heartache in that too. So whether you keep seeing Annie or not, there’s going to be a lot of pain. You need to choose whether to suffer the anguish of ending things with her now or to experience all the grief a relationship with her would cause for yourself, her, and everyone in both families for years to come.”

They sat there for several long minutes without saying a word. Ellen hoped that God would speak to her son’s heart beyond anything she could say to him.

“I know you can’t see it right now”—she weighed her words carefully as she watched clouds move across the sky—“but there are other girls out there for you.”

Aden stood. “Good night, Mamm.”

He went inside, leaving her to face her hypocrisy. She didn’t want him to find someone else for his own good, but for hers. And her family’s. And Moses’s.

A
nnie strolled through the orchard, the cherry blossoms now in full bloom. Normally the sight and the smell overwhelmed her with delight. But not tonight.

She’d been thrilled at the opportunity to share this special experience with Aden. He’d met her here every night for a week, watching the tiny buds grow, then begin to open, then pop out wide as the abundant blossoms took over every tree.

While they walked, they talked about everything from their favorite pastimes to remarkable meals and recipes. They discussed recent articles in the newspaper, including what would happen at the diner once the closest plaza on the turnpike shut down. They shared what they believed. They connected so easily, like gliding on ice, only more breathtaking. Occasionally he sang his thoughts to her, but more and more he’d been communicating without a tune or a stutter. Every night her heart soared a little higher.

And Daadi hadn’t a clue about her late-night walks.

On Sunday they’d allowed their conversations to touch on the
future. He asked her again if she’d decided whether she could go through all it’d take for them to be together. She shook her head and changed the subject, turning from the future to focus on the now—concrete things like weddings they’d attended and the price the newly married couples were paying for houses.

Then on Monday night Aden hadn’t shown. She waited as long as she could before returning home. He hadn’t come on Tuesday either. Or last night.

Annie yanked a twig of cherry blossoms off the nearest tree. Roman—he was most likely behind Aden’s absence the last few nights. Though Aden claimed he didn’t care what his brother thought, she knew that wasn’t true. Even without their unique circumstances, as twins, Aden and Roman would always have a tight bond.

As she breathed in the cherry blossom aroma, she realized that the deepest part of her never believed she and Aden had a real chance.

But she wasn’t ready to give up on them. Was he? Was that why he wasn’t here?

Tears slid down her cheeks, and she broke into sobs.

Finally accepting that Aden wasn’t coming again tonight, Annie shuffled back toward the house. She had to figure a way to see him. If he’d given up on them, he needed to look her in the eyes and say so.

Annie’s insides trembled as she neared Zook’s Diner. As soon as Daadi had returned to the field after lunch, she’d headed this way. Her chores
were done, and she’d be back before he returned home for the evening meal. But the distance from Daadi’s to here had never seemed so vast. At the same time, two miles weren’t very far to travel to face one’s future.