Christmas Eve noise soon filled Brandi’s house, and Ariana set aside the snow globe she’d dismantled. It was a birthday gift for Quill that she would mail to him months from now. She tiptoed from her bedroom to Cameron’s, hoping Brandi didn’t hear her and ask her to come downstairs. She tapped and waited.
“Come in.”
Ariana opened the door.
Cameron was on her bed, watching television. It appeared she had a game of some type on the screen. Cameron hit Pause, stopping the movement on the screen. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to spend the evening alone, and I don’t want to go downstairs.”
Cameron lifted her controller. “You want to play?”
“Tetris?”
“Not this time, oh novice one. It’s a game called Halo.”
“That sounds pleasant. Is it Christmassy with angels and halos?”
“Listen, Giselle.” Cameron tossed the control onto the bed and batted her wide eyes. “Halo’s got nothing to do with angels unless the people shot go to heaven.”
Ariana grabbed a pillow and hit her with it. Cameron rolled off the bed, and Ariana plunked onto the bed and grabbed the control. “Can this thing make you shut up?”
“Oh yeah.” Cameron sat next to her. “I can zone out and be quiet for hours. But not tonight.” She took the control and pressed a button.
The screen animated an explosion, and a character flew limply through the air. “I’m in a team death match right now.”
“Turn that thing off. I’m not watching you shoot anyone on Christmas Eve.”
“Fine.” She sounded angry, but she wasn’t. In some ways Cameron was the Englisch version of Susie. Cameron pressed the center button, going to some kind of menu, and then a different game came on the screen. “We can play Minecraft.”
“Deal. I’ve played that with Trent and Zachary.”
“Are Nicholas’s stepsons any good?”
“They’re better than me.”
Cameron laughed. “Which tells me absolutely nothing.” After a few moments Ariana and Cameron had small pixelated characters on the screen, and they began building stuff, getting materials by punching trees.
Tonight was reminiscent of so many other nights she’d spent with Cameron. After her homework was done, they often watched a movie. Sometimes all four of them—Brandi, Gabe, Cameron, and Ariana—would watch together. Usually they stuck to Disney films, and she loved the PBS miniseries Anne of Green Gables with Megan Follows. A memory of a movie Quill had suggested came to her. “Do you own The Village?”
“No, but I’ve seen it, and I’m sure we can download it. Seriously, you want to watch The Village?”
“Quill said that it’s a good metaphor for how the Amish live and that if I watched it, a lot of things about myself would make more sense.”
“As much as I’ll laugh hilariously watching you tense and jump and gasp throughout that movie, I gotta say I’m confused. You’re going home soon. Why would you want to watch it now?” She grabbed the remote control and pressed a few buttons.
“To understand what Quill meant about it.”
“It’s not the type of thing people watch this time of year. There’s a certain feeling to holidays and traditions. Fall is notorious for horror flicks because of Halloween. Christmas has a warm and fuzzy feel to it, so people usually stick to warm and fuzzy movies, like…” She puckered her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I know, The Chronicles of Narnia. We haven’t watched that one yet. We can watch The Village on New Year’s Eve or something. People like to scream and shoot off fireworks then, so the mood of the movie will sort of match the mood of the neighborhood.”
“Okay. The Chronicles of Narnia it is.”
There was a tap on the bedroom door. “Girls?”
“Yeah, come on in,” Cameron said.
Brandi had on a sparkly burgundy shirt and lots of pretty jewelry. “Gabe’s coworkers have all left.”
“So soon?” Cameron looked at the clock on her nightstand. “How is it already nine o’clock?”
“I’m fun and entertaining. That’s how,” Ariana said. “But isn’t nine a little early to end a party?”
“Not on Christmas Eve,” Brandi said. “We’ve had this same party for years, and most people need to leave between eight and nine. That’s why we begin at five.” She shifted, jiggling the doorknob. “But, Ari, the friends I told you about are still here. The ones who know about you and Skylar. I was hoping you’d be willing to meet them.”
Cameron made a face that said Ariana should go.
“Can we watch The Chronicles of Narnia later?” Ariana asked.
“Sure.” She dropped the control onto the bed.
Brandi winked at Cameron. “I have Chex Mix and sausage cheese balls.”
Cameron jumped off the bed. “I’m there.”
Ariana’s nerves were on edge as she went down with Brandi. Should she change clothes? She still had on the jeans and sweater she’d slid into after they returned from shopping. Jeans were so much warmer than a dress.
A small group of men and women had a plate of food or a drink in hand, and half of them were wearing jeans. Those who looked up smiled at Ariana. Cameron navigated to her dad, and Gabe held out an empty plate. She took it and went to the spread on the table.
Brandi introduced Ariana to several people, and soon a casual circle surrounded her.
“Your mom said you’ve been traveling with your dad. How’d that go?”
“Good. I liked it. A lot.” She doubted if she and Nicholas would go on another trip between now and when she went home, but maybe.
“What was your favorite part?”
There was a lot she liked about it. Listening to books and music and then talking about those things, researching the history of the towns ahead of time, and reading historical markers. Staying in different hotels, eating at nice restaurants. But she had a definite favorite. “Going to museums with exhibits on history and culture. When we began, I thought I would most enjoy going to various cafés. And that is fun. But piecing together the tapestry of who we are and how we’ve changed over the centuries is the best.”
“Ariana owns a café in Summer Grove.” Brandi put her arm around her.
“Had you traveled before?”
Ariana shrugged. “Some.” She’d gone to her cousins’ homes in Pennsylvania and Ohio, mostly in search of a spouse. “Not very much.”
“What was your favorite city?” a man asked.
Ariana had an instant answer. “Actually my favorite was also my least favorite: Savannah, Georgia.”
“Best and worst? Why’s that?” the man asked.
Ariana shared all that she liked and then told of watching the man pay a hooker and how disturbing it was to witness.
The man nodded. “I’ve only been to Savannah once. It felt a bit like New Orleans to me. Have you been to New Orleans?”
“No.” And chances were, she never would go there or much of anywhere else once she returned home. She and Rudy might splurge and go to Niagara Falls. A lot of Amish couples did that.
Gabe came to Ariana, smiling at the small group talking with her. “Excuse us for a moment.” He put his hands on her shoulders and led her to the table. “Fill your plate, and you’re welcome to stay or disappear. I understand there is a movie on the docket for tonight.”
“It’s okay, right?”
“Sure. Cameron loves watching stuff with you. Skylar would’ve loved it even more. She’s the real movie buff of the family.”
“How is she?”
“Your mom talked to, uh, your Amish mom for a minute a few days ago. She said Skylar was doing really well. Much like you, she’s adjusted. Brandi and Nicholas are planning a visit in two weeks, the week before you return home.”
It seemed strange to think of Skylar and her swapping places again, as if this had all been a social experiment of some kind. Ariana glanced into the other room, seeing the Christmas tree adorned with shiny bulbs, tinsel, and multicol
ored lights.
Cameron threw something at her, grabbing her attention. A pretzel fell from Ariana’s chest to the floor.
Cameron nodded upstairs. “The movie awaits.”
When Ariana left home, she’d had no idea she might actually miss this kind of life by the time she returned. She nodded at Cameron, but Ariana couldn’t make the muscles in her face form a smile.
She had grown to like this crazy, mixed-up family where only she and Brandi carried the same DNA, but Gabe and Cameron had worked their way into her heart. She liked Nicholas’s family too. His wife was quiet and his stepsons were loud, but they were family.
Ariana would never have another holiday like this—Christmas music, festive lights, and sparkly decorations everywhere. But all would become very quiet later tonight as they went to a candlelight service and honored the birth of Christ.
Was she sad at the thought of leaving? Did some part of her want to stay?
Abram rolled the boring magazine into the shape of a cylinder and tapped it on his leg. The doctor’s office smelled of illness and air freshener. Jackson had dropped off Cilla, Emma, and Abram about ninety minutes ago and said he’d be back around five. Would Cilla be done in thirty minutes? They had been in the room with the doctor for nearly an hour.
This was the day they’d been waiting for. After the initial visit and weeks of tests, the doctor was sitting down with Cilla and her mom to give them her diagnosis as well as a prognosis. Abram’s nerves were taut. Could Cilla be helped? Could the severity and frequency of her bouts of illness be lessened? He tossed the magazine onto a table and looked out the window. There hadn’t been a fresh snow in a couple of weeks, so what was there was dirty and half-melted, and today was unusually warm for the first week in January.
A door opened from the doctor’s pod into the waiting room, and finally Cilla walked out with Emma behind her. Cilla’s beautiful smile said she was pleased, but her eyes held a hint of sadness. A dagger of fear shot through him. But Emma was beaming. Had the doctor given mixed news?
Abram rose. “You ready?”
Cilla nodded. He wanted to know far more than that, but there were too many people around them. He held out their coats and put on his own. Without a word they walked through two sets of sliding glass doors and continued down the sidewalk until they were well away from the building entrance.
“How did it go?” Abram asked.
The three of them formed a small group, and Cilla smiled. “It went very well. There’s no way to thank you, Abram.”
If it had gone so well, why did she seem rattled?
Emma grabbed Abram and hugged him. “The doctor gave Cilla a prognosis of living into her fifties, which is twice as long as any other doctor has given her.”
Abram scooped up Cilla and hugged her. “That’s fantastic!”
“It is.” Cilla held on to him. “It truly is.”
Abram released her, ready to hear some specifics, but Cilla only smiled. Was that hesitancy in her eyes?
“It was the best doctor’s appointment ever.” Emma put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “She pinpointed some of the reasons Cilla has struggled over the years, and she’s made changes in Cilla’s protocols that should make her bouts milder and less frequent. Apparently our other doctor was using older medications and protocols, but she should’ve been seeing a specialist all along. That’s so apparent now.” Emma grabbed him again. “Denki,” she whispered.
Over Emma’s shoulder he studied Cilla. She was smiling and nodding yes with every thank-you her mother spoke, but something was wrong.
Emma held him for a few moments, and he allowed it. They had received excellent news, worthy of a long hug from a very concerned Mamm who’d thought for years she would lose her daughter in her midtwenties. When Emma released him, he scanned the sidewalks. Benches were here and there, mostly for the sick or elderly to sit on while their caregivers drove up to the building to get them. Abram pointed to one that was just a few feet from where they stood.
“Emma, Jackson will be here in twenty minutes or so. Could Cilla and I have this time to talk—alone?”
Emma clutched his shoulder. “You may have whatever you want.” She grinned, showing her overwhelming joy. Before she walked off, she kissed Cilla on the cheek. “Focus on the gift you have been given.”
There was only one reason for Emma to say something like that. What didn’t she want Cilla to think about? Abram gestured toward the bench, and they took a seat.
“What’s the bad part your Mamm doesn’t want you to think about, Cilla?”
She fidgeted with her fingers. “I’m so very grateful. Let’s talk about that.” Her eyes filled with tears, and soon she was wiping them from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s all very emotional.”
“The bad part?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing, really.”
Abram watched cars pull into and out of parking spaces as he pondered what he’d learned thus far. “I’ve heard that when a young person learns they only have a few years to live, it’s life altering in every way. Sitting here now, I realize the same is probably true if that young person believed she only had a few years and suddenly was told she had twenty-five more. It changes all your expectations, and maybe that is an adjustment.”
She nodded.
He put his arm around her. It felt so right. He wasn’t bumfuzzled, awkward, or confused with her in his life. Being himself came easy, and before her, nothing came easy.
“What is it, Cilla?”
She wiped away tears. “I’m a horrible person not to be totally thrilled with today’s news. Please forgive me, and let’s talk about something else.”
“You’re forgiven. Now talk to me, just two friends saying what’s on their minds.”
She looked unsure. “You’re more than a friend to me, and I know I shouldn’t admit that. But I have to in order to say I don’t want to put you in a position where you do or say anything out of pity or for any other wrong reason.”
He thought about her words. He supposed he should’ve known she liked him before now. Well, maybe he did know. “I won’t let anything you say corner me. So just say it already. We’ll both feel better.”
She drew a deep breath. “It seems as if all my life I’ve known I would do well to live to be twenty or a little older at the latest. At an early age I adjusted to the notion that I wouldn’t fall in love or marry or have children. When you think you’re going to die young, it’s easier to accept those things. But now…”
“But a longer life means you’ll have the time to do those things, right?”
“Not really. The doctor says a good regimen will lengthen my life expectancy by decades, but I’ll undo all that improvement if I marry.”
“Marrying is bad for your health?”
“No, but having babies is.” She covered her face. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about marriage.”
Abram clasped her wrists and gently lowered her hands. “Can we slow down just a tad? Your timetable for life was just extended, but you’re mourning what you’ll never have during that extra time? I guess you’ll have to learn to live like the rest of us—with a long road of unknowns ahead of you.”
“You’re right. I know you are. It’s just I…I’d hoped we would have a chance, a real chance, where I wasn’t sick. And if we fell madly in love, we could marry and have babies.”
Abram laughed. “You are as honest and open as the winter is long. You know that, Pricilla Yoder?”
“Pricilla! No one has called me that since before I went to school.”
“I had planned to ask you out when the time was right. If we fall madly in love, we’ll figure it out then. Look at all that’s happened because of a simple Internet search. New medicines and new protocols are always being developed. And maybe by the time you’re thirty-five, some newer medicines and treatments will increase your life to sixty or seventy or more. Right?”
“That’s true. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“If we like dating and decide to marry, the only part of your hopes that we have to avoid is you having babies.”
“That’s forbidden. The church would never agree to—”
“Cilla.” Abram put his forehead against hers. “You have to slow down all the what-ifs. Let’s enjoy today for what it is and not put expectations on tomorrow or our relationship or the church leaders. If we decide we’re right for each other, we’ll know. And God will give us wisdom for the next step, just as He did to get us to this point with your amazing news.”
From inside the café Skylar sprayed the vinegar solution on the window and wiped the glass with an old cloth diaper. Eerie silence filled the vacant place, and she feared this kind of emptiness would soon fill every part of her life. She’d spent almost three months growing accustomed to the bustle of the work load and the camaraderie with her stranger siblings. Both this place and her weird Amish family filled a gaping hole inside her. Somehow.
But it was time to go. They’d helped her, and she needed to give them their lives back. How hard would it be to live in her isolated world again?
Staying with the Brennemans had meant she was only alone in the bathroom, and time in that tiny space was limited. If she took longer than fifteen minutes, a sister would knock and enter anyway, or her brothers would pound until she yielded the room. Tempers flared at times, usually hers, but even if the human contact was an annoyance or an argument, she’d grown comfortable with the endless interaction.
But the Brennemans and their contradictory ways of loving-kindness and never-ending moral codes couldn’t help her get through the next hour. Her parents, the people who’d raised her, were on their way. She had to face them on her own, and she had avoided it for as long as possible.
Something thudded against the back door, and the lock jiggled. The door popped open, startling her. Jackson came in with a large box in both hands. January winds swept in too, and he had on a heavy coat, hat, and boots. The ground had two feet of snow.
Fraying at the Edge Page 29
