The Scent of Cherry Blossoms: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country (18 page)

“I hope you have a happy Mother’s Day tomorrow,” Roman called to the woman, who smiled as she ushered her four little children out the door.

After turning the Open sign to Closed, he rolled through the dining area, clearing tables. Since Annie had gone back to New York, his brother’s mind was always elsewhere.

Not wanting to ponder that any further, Roman thought about the gift he’d ordered for his mom: a porcelain teapot, white with tiny blue roses. The store owner had assured him it would come in today. As soon as he and Aden cleaned up here, he’d head over there to pick it up.

A loud, metallic crash from the kitchen startled him. What on earth?

When he reached the kitchen, he saw an empty busboy bin on the floor with dirty plates, cups, and silverware strewed everywhere. Aden’s face was red, and his lips were pressed together as he dumped the items into the bin.

“What happened?”

Aden shrugged.

“Let me guess. You weren’t paying attention to what you were doing. Big surprise there.”

Aden continued tossing dirty flatware into the bin.

Roman moved closer. “You want to talk about it?”

“Nothing to s-say that you d-don’t already know.” Aden moved the now-full bin into the sink.

While Annie was here, Aden’s stuttering had diminished. Since she’d been gone, it had gotten much worse. Usually Aden stuttered less when he was angry. Now it was more pronounced than ever.

“I c-can’t work here any-m-more.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What are you going to do?”

Aden didn’t nod or shrug or anything. He wasn’t asking Roman’s opinion. His brother was informing him of the future.

Thoughts of Aden’s sketches nagged Roman. “If you’re going to leave the diner anyway, why not go after her?”

The taut lines across Aden’s face only hinted at all he was thinking as he removed his apron, folded it neatly, and laid it on the counter. “To pr-protect her. Do you understand anything about l-love?”

Roman wanted to, but he always fell so short he made himself sick. Aden’s way of handling the situation had left Annie with her family relationships and her reputation intact. She could attend church in New York or here or anywhere else, and people knew nothing about her times of secretly seeing Aden. The few people who were in the restaurant the day her grandfather made a scene thought she had a family emergency and he’d hired a driver to get her home fast. Aden’s action would allow her to move on and find a nice Mennonite man and have a family. The Zooks wouldn’t lose their diner.

Roman wanted that kind of love in his heart, and despite all the things he’d once had, he’d never had that. Never.

Aden crossed the kitchen and went out the back door.

Roman went after him but had to stop at the doorway. The rocky, washed-out path was not one he could navigate in a wheelchair. “Wait!”

Aden kept going without so much as a glance back at Roman.

“You can’t just leave me here!”

Mamm came running in from the dining area. “What is going on in here?”

“He’s thrown in the towel and left.”

She looked out the back door. “Aden Zook, you get back here
right now,” Mamm called. “I need your help getting your brother into the rig.”

Roman stared after his brother. Aden had never left the diner without cleaning up, even if he was exhausted or had started running a fever. And he’d never left Roman stranded like this. “Don’t worry about it, Mamm. The delivery man will be here later on, and he’ll help me get in the rig.”

“What just happened in here?”

Roman stared up at his mother. “You know the whole time we were growing up, I had times when I thought I was better than him and he was the unlucky one—that’s what I thought. But that’s so far from the truth it’s scary. Did you know I thought that?”

“I suspected. Even before the accident, insight didn’t come easy for you any more than words come easy for Aden.”

“Do you think that’s why I’m in this contraption now?”

“Like a punishment?” She shook her head. “No, or the whole world would be in one of those. We think too highly of ourselves at some times and too little of ourselves at others. You used to focus on your good attributes and think you were really something. Right now, your biggest obstacle is that you focus only on what you don’t have rather than on what you do have. But I’m still praying that you open your heart to God and let Him help you see your life through faith.”

Did she see him through faith too? He feared seeing the disappointment in her eyes, so he wouldn’t ask that question. “Do you really think Moses would shut us down?”

“Ya, I do.”

The question of how she saw him nudged him. “If … you saw me through faith, what would that look like?”

“I see you that way every day. I pray, and I see you whole inside yourself, at peace with your brokenness, and strong enough to be who God called you to be.”

“What about Aden and Annie?”

She moved to the kitchen sink. “That’s different.” Her shoulders slumped. “Ya, it’s different,” she repeated. “Because it’s easier to picture this family through the eyes of faith as long as Moses doesn’t shut us down. As long as there’s no scandal within the church.” She turned to face him. “I mean we can handle everything else, right?”

“I’m confused. Was that sarcasm?”

She straightened her shoulders. “You know what you and I both need? Stronger faith. Somehow we have to rise above our fears … whatever that means.”

Roman knew one thing it meant: Mamm would be in the garden for the next five to six months, praying for hours while planting, weeding, and harvesting. He drew a deep breath, feeling strengthened by her honesty. “I think a mom like you deserves to have Mother’s Day a lot more than once a year.”

“Me too.” She sounded half sincere and half sarcastic.

Roman realized that he and his mom were a lot more alike than he’d noticed before, except she held on tight to her beliefs in God’s goodness, and he tended to shove God away scornfully. To think that so blatantly was scary. He supposed it was a good thing God was patient.

A
den shoved his clothes into a tote bag. Since Annie had returned to New York six weeks ago, every minute here in Apple Ridge was spent wishing things were different. He walked the orchard every night, hoping she’d return.

And fearing she would.

Aden pulled a stack of sketch pads out of the trunk and put them on top of his clothing in the leather tote bag.

The bedroom door opened, and Aden turned. Roman came partway into the room and stopped, studying Aden and his lone piece of luggage.

Aden went into the bathroom and loaded a small vinyl case with his toiletries. When he came back into the bedroom, he walked to his bed without a glance at Roman.

“Where …” Roman clenched the hand rims of his chair. “Where will you go?”

Aden shoved the small bag into the larger one. “Ernie’s.”

“You won’t be happy working on a farm.”

“I’m not l-looking to be happy.”

Roman stared at the bed. “I know you’re still mad at me, but I did what I did to keep from losing you as my helper. To try to hold on to my best friend.” Roman wheeled closer to his brother. “If I had to do it over again—our whole lives—I’d be a better brother. Forgive me?”

Aden sat on his bed, staring at the floor. “Ya.”

It wasn’t like the canyon between Aden and Annie was Roman’s fault. When it came to being decisive with Annie, Aden had drifted on floodwaters, hoping for the best but not trying to navigate them at all. “She’s b-better off this way.”

“That’s what you’ve always thought, isn’t it? I mean, it’s what kept you from ever writing to her or calling or going to see her at Moses’s when she’d come in from New York.”

“I never wanted anyone to g-get hurt, Annie m-most of all.”

“But over the years when she’d be here visiting and would come into the diner, I always saw that spark between you two. It used to worry me or make me mad.” Roman rested a hand on Aden’s knee. “Maybe I’m crazy for saying it, but you shouldn’t go to Ernie’s.” Roman rolled his chair back. “You should go to Annie.”

Aden couldn’t believe his ears. He expected Roman to console him about why keeping a distance was the only nondestructive way to go.

“Ya, Aden, don’t listen to me. What do I know? For that matter, what does Moses or Mamm or Daed know? Every one of us is wringing our hands and being selfish. If Annie feels the same way as you do, then together you will find a way to make things work, at least between the two of you.”

Aden shook his head. “You’re being ri-ri—”

“I’m not being ridiculous. Look, do you think this relationship is wrong?”

“N-no.”

“Your feelings for Annie aren’t borne from rebellion or sowing wild oats, right?”

Aden rolled his eyes. “No.”

Roman grinned. “I’m ready to do whatever I can to convince the family and the community to accept your relationship. And you know I have the gift of being able to talk just about anybody into just about anything.”

Aden hadn’t done right by Annie. She hadn’t wanted to talk about the realities facing them, and Aden hadn’t been willing to warn her of the storm that was brewing, and the whole time they were seeing each other, he wavered in where they were heading. Unsure if they’d ever find answers. And unwilling to stop seeing her.

He didn’t consider that behavior worthy of her. Aden stood. “I n-need to go.”

“You can do this.” Roman motioned to the bedroom door. “Go straighten this out. Build a life with her.”

“It’s d-done. I made sure of it.”

“Okay, so you’re unsure how you’d convince her of your love. I get that.” Roman went closer to the bed and grabbed Aden’s tote bag that lay open and pulled out several of the sketchbooks. Aden’s eyes widened in surprise. “Show Annie these. They are enough to convince the coldest of hearts.” He placed the sketch pads in Aden’s lap. “Trust me.”

Aden trudged through the woods, following the path to Moses’s house. He rehearsed in his mind the words he wanted to say, hoping he could at least get out a few of the sentences.

As he knocked on the front door, he focused on the opening lines he’d spent most of the day planning. But no one came to the door.

Was Moses on a delivery? It seemed unlikely on a Saturday at four o’clock.

Not about to give up, Aden searched the grounds and found Moses in one of the pastures out back. Aden strode that direction, still singing his introductory comments in his head.

When he neared Moses, the older man entered a chicken coop. Aden followed.

Moses dumped two scoops of feed into a plastic container. “You got something on your mind, boy?”

The hymn Aden had chosen to put his words to played in his mind, calming his soul. “I need to t-talk to you about Annie.” There. He’d done it. Said a complete sentence with only a single stutter.

Moses walked outside again, and so did Aden. Moses scattered handfuls of feed onto the ground, which the hens and roosters scrabbled over.

Aden waited, trying to gather his thoughts. He prayed.

Moses tossed the buckets inside and dusted his hands together. “You came by here two months ago, saying you were going to do right by her, which we both knew meant you’d end things. But you didn’t do that, did you?”

“I intended to, but I c-couldn’t.”

“I know this is tough. I really do. But here’s the way it is, Aden. I’m not interested in anything you have to say about Annie. You leave my granddaughter alone. Completely alone.”

The tap-tap-tapping of a woodpecker echoed from a nearby patch of woods. Aden tried to ignore the distracting sound. “I love her. And I’m willing t-to wait for her until you can accept this relationship, like you d-did with Esther.”

Moses blinked, apparently surprised Aden knew about that. “Is that so?”

“A-absolutely.” Aden needed Moses to understand that this wasn’t some heated passion that couldn’t be controlled. It was love—the kind that would sacrifice whatever was needed.

“You have no idea the kind of stress your relationship would put on both families.”

The woodpecker’s tapping began again. This time Aden used its cadence to keep time with the music he’d chosen to think about during this part of his speech. “And I’m s-sorry. It’ll be bad, and maybe Annie isn’t willing to go through that for us.”