by Leslie Gould
“Pleased to meet all of you,” Shani said.
Joel and Grant started talking, Adam tickled the baby’s foot, and Shani asked Donna if Grant had been deployed before.
She shook her head. “This is his first time.”
“Do you have support here?”
“Some.” She patted her belly. “I have another baby on the way—due in July—so we’ll see how that goes.”
As they chatted, Shani told her a little about Joel’s deployment to Iraq and how much Skyping helped.
“Was he injured there?” Donna asked.
Shani nodded as Casey approached them, saying hello to Donna and then Shani and Adam.
Zane approached but stood back a little, until Shani said, “Come here.”
He complied, and she gave him a hug, which he endured. “What now?” Shani asked.
“How about if we all go get something to eat?” Casey said. “Our last meal, so to speak. We could go to that barbecue place off base.”
Shani nodded in agreement. Zane had joined the men’s conversation. Another soldier joined the group too, positioning himself next to Grant.
Shani touched Joel’s shoulder and said, “Sorry to interrupt, but would you all like to join us women and Adam for some Texas barbecue?”
“Sounds good,” Grant answered, and Joel smiled and nodded.
Zane introduced the other soldier to her as Wade. He seemed like a nice guy too. He shook her hand warmly as he smiled and said, “I’m very pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Zane didn’t say anything as they walked to the parking lot, not even when Adam caught up with him and grabbed his hand. Once they reached the pickup Zane said, “I hope you don’t have the idea that my unit is one big happy family, because it’s not.”
“Casey sure seems nice.”
“She is . . .”
“And Grant and Wade seem likeable.”
Zane shook his head. “They’re not.”
As she climbed into the back seat Shani said, “Well, Grant’s wife is lovely.”
“Yeah,” Zane said. He didn’t say it, but Shani was pretty sure his tone implied he couldn’t figure out why she married Grant.
The next morning they told Zane good-bye in front of his barracks. Adam hugged him long and hard. When he finally pulled away, Zane tousled his brother’s hair and said, “Send me e-mails, Bub. And hopefully we can Skype.”
Shani hugged him next, followed by Joel. After he was done, Joel stepped back. “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, son, but I hope you know how proud I am of you.”
“Thank you.” Zane said. “I signed up for all the wrong reasons, but I’m excited about this assignment. I hope I can make a difference.”
Joel nodded. “God has a plan for sending you. We’ll hold on to that when we’re worried.”
Zane put his hand up. “I’m not worried, and I don’t want any of you to worry either.” He wrapped his arm around Adam. “Especially not you, Bub.”
He pulled a large manila envelope from his backpack and handed it to Joel. “Would you keep this for me? The title to my truck is in there—and other stuff.”
Joel nodded. “I’ll give it back when you get home.”
Zane grabbed his duffel bag and headed toward the bus where the others were congregating. Donna, with Alex in his stroller, stepped to Shani’s side as both Grant and Wade followed Zane.
Shani asked Donna how she was doing.
“Not so good,” the young woman said. One of her hands clutched the handle of the stroller and the other was cupped around her stomach.
Shani put her arm around Donna and squeezed her shoulder.
“Thanks,” Donna whispered.
The soldiers fell into formation. A few minutes later, they marched toward the bus. Besides Zane, Shani kept her eye on Casey and Grant. None of the soldiers turned to wave as they boarded. Shani tried to swallow the lump in her throat.
Shani, Joel, and Adam stood, alongside Donna and Alex, until the bus rolled away. Once the bus was out of view, they all said subdued good-byes and then Shani watched Donna push Alex to her car.
Finally Joel asked, “Shall we go?”
Shani nodded, knowing if she spoke she’d cry, which she didn’t want to do. Once Joel was injured and then retired, she never dreamt she’d go through sending off someone else she loved to war. Even when Zane joined the Army, she hoped both wars would wind down and he wouldn’t have to go anywhere.
Adam ran ahead.
“What’s in the packet?” Shani asked Joel.
“You know.”
“No . . .”
Joel’s eyes watered. “His will. A copy of his orders. Insurance stuff. And, like he said, the title to his truck.”
“Oh,” Shani said. She remembered now.
After stopping by the hotel, loading their luggage, and checking out, they headed east.
“It’s so flat,” Adam said, his nose pressed to the window. “And brown.”
“Not all of Texas is like this,” Shani said.
“I miss home,” he said.
Shani nodded. She did too.
By the time they turned north, onto the interstate, Adam had fallen asleep.
“I hope I didn’t pester him too much,” Shani said.
“Zane?” Joel asked.
She nodded.
He didn’t respond.
She leaned toward him, brushing against his shoulder. “Did I?”
He smiled. “Maybe a little.”
She sighed. She was so used to coordinating everything at home. It was hard to stop.
“Zane’s always needed his space, right? He’s never wanted our opinions or our ideas.” Joel shook his head. “When he began criticizing the wars, I should have just listened instead of challenging him.”
Shani patted his forearm.
“I felt bad—as if my injury was for nothing. Even worse, I started dwelling on Samuel’s death again.” Joel grasped the gear stick, as if throwing it into reverse might change what had happened. Samuel had died in the same attack that injured Joel. “Zane really knew how to push my buttons,” Joel said. “Instead of realizing that and working through things with him, I told him he wasn’t soldier material, which I’m sure contributed to him joining.” Joel shook his head. “Isn’t that ironic? I didn’t intend that at all.”
She knew he didn’t. “You apologized to him. Remember?”
He nodded. “But the thing is . . .” Joel said, “he turned out to be a fine soldier.”
“He takes after you in that,” Shani said.
Joel frowned. “I’m sorry.” He let go of the gear stick and reached for her hand.
“Don’t be,” she said. “It’s life.”
Joel sighed and then said, “When Zane was born I always imagined him playing football, but he didn’t. And I doubt Adam will either.”
Shani nodded. “Does that bother you?” Joel had been a football hero in his small Wisconsin town, growing up.
“No, not at all. I’m just saying what I imagined, you know—way back when.” He let go of her hand, passed a semi, and then pulled back into the right lane. “I never imagined Zane joining the Army, I never even wanted that for him. It didn’t fit his personality at all—even though he’s become a good soldier. Now here he is, going off to war.”
Shani waited for him to explain further, but when he didn’t, she asked, “What are you saying, honey?”
“Just that it’s not about us, is it? It’s about them. Who God created them to be. I just wish I hadn’t interfered.”
“But God is using Zane being in the Army,” Shani said. She hoped Zane appreciated who God had made him to be.
Joel ran his hand over his mouth. “I just can’t bear the thought of anything happening to him.”
Fear clenched her heart again. “Unfortunately that’s one thing that neither of us can control.”
10
Lila sat beside Jenny in the shed on her friend’s farm during the Youngie singing. It was chill
y, and Jenny’s Mamm and Gideon had put propane heaters around the benches.
Reuben sat across the aisle from her. They hadn’t finished the conversation from Christmas Eve yet, but she expected they might tonight. She’d been twenty now for almost a week. But before she thought seriously about marriage, she needed to take care of her grandmother. The doctors finally determined Mammi was strong enough for surgery, and it was scheduled for a week from Friday. Lila had a plan to go take care of her grandmother, but so far could find no way to implement it. She could see to Dat’s books at her grandparents’ house, and she’d wanted to suggest that he hire someone to help with the milking after Simon left, but she knew they couldn’t afford it. Especially if she took time off from her restaurant job. Simon was complicating her life far more than she could have imagined a few weeks ago.
On the men’s side of the room, directly across the aisle, Reuben sat between Daniel and Simon. A couple of times, Lila caught Daniel stealing a look at Jenny and once Reuben turned his head and smiled at her, his eyes kind.
Simon, on the other hand, had his eyes on a group of girls who were a year younger than he was. Lila wasn’t sure why he’d come at all. He was leaving for basic training in two weeks. It wasn’t as if he’d court a girl between then and now, and besides it seemed as if he were going out with Mandy. Not courting, that was for sure. Lila was sure he had no intention of marrying her—at least not in the next four years. But maybe they were dating, in a casual way. Lila didn’t understand Simon, not at all. Both his upcoming exit from their home and his current presence at the singing only added more drama to their family and the community, something they could all do without.
As the group sang the final words of “How Great Thou Art” Jenny elbowed Lila and said, “Want to help with the food?”
“Sure,” she answered, relieved the singing was over. She’d been attending them for almost three years. At first it had been fun to see the other Youngie and spend time together, but she felt as if she were outgrowing them now. She followed her friend to the back of the room.
Monika had a big pot of hot chocolate ready to serve. “Go on into the house and get the popcorn balls,” she said to Jenny. Lila followed her friend out the shed door and into the crisp cold. They walked briskly, their breath hanging in vapors, to the kitchen door. Bishop Byler came out with a tray of peanut-butter spread and crackers.
“Come on in,” he said, holding the door with his foot for the girls. Lila gave him a smile as she entered the house. When she thought of marrying Reuben, one of the things that appealed to her, along with having Monika as a grandmother to her children, was having Bishop Byler as a father-in-law. He was kind and gentle and always made her feel valued.
The kitchen was warm from the roaring fire in the wood stove. Lila held her hands out to it for a moment. The area was large and even with just a lamp lit, the yellow walls brightened the room. She’d always been a little jealous of Jenny’s house—even though she knew it was wrong to covet what her friend had.
The girls had each lost a parent—Lila, her mother and Jenny, her father—within six months of each other. They had that in common. But within a year Jenny’s mother had married Bishop Byler. Lila knew that didn’t make up for Jenny losing her own Dat, but Jenny’s life returned to a new normal at least. Lila felt as if her life still teetered on the edge of chaos.
She grabbed the second tray of popcorn balls and followed Jenny out to the shed.
As the boys gathered around, Reuben stood at her side. Monika dipped hot chocolate from the pot into cups and encouraged everyone to “Eat yourself full.”
She wagged her finger at Simon. “I don’t want any leftovers,” she said. “They’ll ruin my girlish figure.” He laughed with her as she patted her middle.
Once everyone was served, Monika sought Lila out. “I heard about your Mammi’s diagnosis,” she said. “How is she doing?”
“All right. Her surgery is scheduled for next Friday.”
Monika made a tsk-tsk sound. “Does she have enough help? Is their new church treating them right?”
They’d been going to their “new” Mennonite church for nearly twenty years.
“Jah,” Lila said.
“I heard you might be working with your Mammi—helping her out.”
Lila shook her head. “I’d like to but . . .”
“What’s holding you back?”
Lila’s face grew warm, even in the cold shed.
“She needs to help Dat with the milking.” Simon had come up behind her. “Since I’m leaving.”
“Oh, goodness,” Monika said. “That’s right. Look at the position you’ve put your family in.”
Simon put his arm around Lila. “I didn’t know about Mammi when I signed up.”
Monika put her hand on her wide hip. “Can’t you get out of it?”
Simon shook his head and then pulled Lila close. “Sorry, sis.”
She wiggled away from him. He wasn’t helping her feel better, not at all. She’d have been miffed about having to help with the milking no matter what, but to not be able to go help Mammi when she was ill was maddening.
Monika must have sensed Lila’s pain because she said, “Don’t worry. Something will work out. God will provide for your grandmother.”
Thankfully Reuben didn’t mind leaving early, and soon they were on the road, bundled under layers of wool blankets. Lila sat next to him, closer than usual. It was the coldest night of the year so far.
“Do you want to go help take care of your Mammi?” Reuben asked.
“Jah,” Lila said. “Of course.”
“I could help your Dat with the milking, in the mornings.”
“No, that would be too much for you.”
“I’d be back in time to open the lumberyard. It wouldn’t be forever, right? Just until your grandmother is back on her feet.”
“That’s right,” Lila said.
“Were you and Rose going to split the work?”
“That was my plan,” Lila said. She could imagine Rose trying to get out of her half of the milking, but no one would eat breakfast if Rose didn’t cook it.
“Then I could do it in the morning—for you—and Rose can take her turn in the afternoon,” Reuben said. “I could talk to your father about it.”
“Denki,” Lila said. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it, but I doubt Dat would agree to it.”
“I could ask him,” Reuben said. “Tonight.”
She paused for a minute and then said, “I’ll bring it up with him. Not tonight, but tomorrow.”
They rode in silence, as they often did. True, he didn’t make her heart race the way Zane did, and there were times she longed for a more meaningful conversation with him. But nonetheless he was comfortable to be around, and no one was kinder to her. He turned onto Juneberry Lane and then down her family’s driveway.
As they reached the house, Daniel’s pickup roared up behind them. Simon jumped out, waved, and then ran up the back steps. Daniel swung his vehicle around and then took off back down the driveway to the lane.
Lila groaned. “Want to come in anyway?”
“Sure,” Reuben said. They unhitched his horse and put her in the barn, out of the cold. As they hurried on to the house, Lila clapped her gloved hands together, trying to warm up her hands.
By the time they got in the house, Simon had the fire in the stove roaring. Dat was on his way to bed but stopped when he saw Reuben. “Good to see you,” he said. The two had worked at the lumberyard together for years, and Dat got along as well with Reuben as anyone, probably better.
“See you tomorrow,” Dat said to Reuben, and then he nodded his head at Lila before lumbering to the hall and off to bed.
Lila cut the cherry cobbler and first served Reuben and then Simon. Rose poked her head into the kitchen. “I thought I heard Reuben’s voice,” she said.
Simon stepped behind her and mocked her words.
Lila smiled but Reuben didn’t respond. Rose jo
ined them at the table.
“Can I have some of that cobbler too?” Rose pointed toward Reuben’s plate.
Lila sighed as she cut one more piece. How was Rose going to handle the milking every day when she expected others to serve her?
Reuben asked Simon where he’d do his basic training.
“Fort Benning,” Simon answered. “In Georgia.”
As Lila slipped Rose the plate of cobbler, she couldn’t help but be a little jealous of Simon. She’d always wanted to travel and see the places across the country that Zane had told her about. She wasn’t jealous as far as how hard Simon’s training would be though. Or what he’d be doing. Or that he’d be living permanently so far outside his community, both spiritually and physically.
“How do you think basic will be?” Reuben asked.
Simon laughed. “I’ve survived Dat all these years. I’ll be fine. I doubt any Army sergeant could be worse.”
Lila was sure he didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. Her brother was committing himself to a philosophy that was the opposite of how he’d been raised.
“I have no doubt you’ll survive the physical part just fine,” Lila said. “But I worry about the impact such a harsh environment will have on you.”
“Ach,” he responded. “I’ll be okay.”
Lila shook her head. Rose had a smirk on her face as she turned to Simon. “Dat said he wished you were more like Reuben.”
“Rose,” Lila said. “Dat didn’t say that.” Their father hardly spoke at all, and he never said anything negative about one child to another. At least Lila had never heard him say anything like that.
“No, he did,” Rose said. “When I had to help finish up with the milking tonight because Simon ran out on him again.” Rose smiled at Reuben, nearly batting her eyes. Lila suppressed a smile when Reuben’s face turned pink. Rose had a presence about her that Lila lacked. She never doubted her little sister was attractive, but in the last year she’d become quite the flirt too. At sixteen she should be going to singings. Lila hoped Dat would allow it soon, even though he’d probably worry about Rose. It would save them all a headache—and perhaps heartache—if her sister married young.
