Amish Sweethearts

by Leslie Gould

  “To Reuben, right?” Mammi asked.

  Lila grimaced. She hadn’t meant to keep it from Mammi but she certainly hadn’t gone out of her way to tell her.

  Rose jumped in again. “They aren’t courting anymore.”

  “Oh.” Mammi turned toward Lila. “What happened?”

  Lila didn’t want to say anything—not in front of Trudy, but especially not in front of Rose. “How about if I make some tea?”

  Rose snorted.

  “Stop,” Lila hissed at her sister as she walked by. She filled the teakettle and put it on the stove, turning on the burner. A minute later Mammi came into the kitchen. Lila expected Rose or Trudy to follow her, but neither did.

  “What happened?” Mammi asked as she stepped beside Lila. “I thought you and Reuben were perfect together.”

  Lila shook her head. She shouldn’t have avoided telling her grandmother. It just made it harder now. “We looked perfect together, but I didn’t love him. There wasn’t any spark.” She thought of the way she felt being around Zane when she saw him at the hospital, of how she felt every time she talked to him on the phone. Warm and cold at the same time. Free yet connected.

  “Ach,” Mammi said. “Sparks eventually burn away. Sometimes love comes later. After marriage.”

  Lila hesitated and then said, “Reuben’s a gut man. He’ll make someone a wonderful husband. Just not me.”

  “Maybe it’s a little hiccup,” Mammi said. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind.”

  Lila shook her head.

  “Well, you were talking to someone last night. Is another young man wanting to court you?”

  Lila shrugged. Not in the way Mammi hoped at least. The kettle began to whistle. Lila grabbed the potholder and then the kettle, rinsed out the teapot, and then put the bags of the tea in the bottom and filled it with hot water, all while Mammi scrutinized her.

  “Go sit back down,” Lila finally said to her grandmother. “Have Trudy recite her multiplication table. She’s getting really good.”

  “Ach,” Mammi said. “I guess you’re not going to tell me any more than that, are you.”

  Lila shook her head.

  Mammi left, but a minute later Eve came into the kitchen. “I’ve got to get going,” she said. “But I wanted to say good-bye.”

  As they hugged, Eve whispered, “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Lila lied, pulling away.

  Eve peered into Lila’s eyes. “Shani said when she talks to Zane on the phone not only does he seem to be doing better emotionally, but he actually sounds happy.”

  “That’s gut, right?” Lila turned away and put a towel over the teapot to keep the heat in.

  Eve put her hand on Lila’s shoulder. “So who were you talking to last night?”

  “Whom do you think?” she whispered.

  Eve winced. “Does your Dat know?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Don’t hurt Zane, Lila. He’s too vulnerable right now.”

  Lila faced her aunt.

  Eve shook her head. “I can’t imagine you leaving the church.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  “Do you talk to him because you feel sorry for him?”

  ”Of course not,” Lila said.

  “What’s going on, then?”

  “I care about him. I’ve always cared about him.”

  “But he loves you.” Eve touched Lila’s shoulder. “You’ll break his heart again if you’re not careful.”

  Lila blinked, fighting back the tears.

  Eve shook her head.

  “Don’t tell Shani, please,” Lila whispered. “Zane wouldn’t want that.”

  “I won’t,” Eve answered. “Just be careful.”

  Lila nodded, overwhelmed with what a crazy quilt her life had become. Maybe she would spend her entire life being Zane’s friend, longing for more but never having it. Her life would be one long zigzag stitch of emotions.

  “Sorry,” Eve said. “I didn’t mean to scold you.”

  “No,” Lila said. “You’re right.” She swiped at a tear. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  Eve wrapped her arms around her. “I know how you feel. But I also know you’re not me.”

  For the first time Lila wondered if it had been easier for Eve to leave the church because both her parents were already deceased. But Eve had told her once she hadn’t been totally sold on joining the church in the first place.

  Lila had cherished the day she joined. It felt right. Completely right.

  But so did Zane.

  21

  Zane sat in one of the middle-row captain’s seats of his mom’s van, and Lila sat in the seat beside him. She’d asked if it would be okay to come with his family to spring him out of Walter Reed. Of course he’d said yes.

  Bub sat in the back seat, prattling away. But it was a good prattle. School had been in session for a few weeks and he liked his teacher and they were studying photosynthesis and he’d written his first short story.

  By the time they were off the Beltway and headed north, Bub had grown tired, and soon his prattling stopped and his head rested against the window.

  “Does your shoulder hurt?” Mom asked Zane, shifting in her seat as Dad turned onto the highway, heading west.

  “Not much,” Zane answered, moving his arm. The physical therapist was pleased with the progress he’d made and had released him, saying he’d be fine to drive to Texas. “You’re good to do anything,” the woman said. “Well, maybe not dig a ditch yet or lift a hundred pounds, but you’re fine to shoot a gun.”

  He hadn’t reacted. He might have to qualify another time on the shooting range, but he’d never have to shoot at another person. That was all that mattered. And he didn’t have to worry about trying to become a conscientious objector to get out of it either. God had worked everything out.

  “Zane,” Mom said, shifting her gaze. “Your footlocker arrived. Casey sent it. Wasn’t that nice of her?”

  Zane nodded. Better Casey than anyone else. She wouldn’t have been as freaked out by the pacifist literature he had at the bottom of it, under the quilt his mom and the other ladies had made. Hopefully she didn’t dig that far though—they were tucked in with the letters from Lila.

  Mom straightened around in her seat and talked with Dad as they neared Baltimore.

  Zane patted the side of his jacket. In the inside pocket was the letter from Lila, the one she’d written after breaking up with Reuben. He thought of how devastated he’d been to receive it, but it hadn’t turned out to be what he thought, not at all. So many things were turning out to be different than he’d expected. He and Lila had talked about everything over the phone—everything but their future. Hopefully they’d have time for that while he was home.

  Surely Lila would meet him down by the creek. And bring Trudy over to play with Adam after school. He hoped the Indian summer weather held so he and Lila could take walks in the field.

  After the two weeks were up he’d drive down to Texas for a month, fly home for Daniel and Jenny’s wedding, go back to Texas, and then fly home for Christmas. By then his entire unit would be back from Afghanistan and any chance of deployment before he discharged from the Army would be over. He’d be home free, literally, in June.

  He had no idea what he’d do then. Maybe still go to college on the GI Bill. Maybe get a job with a social services agency. Try to figure out what was next for him and Lila—by talking it through with her. But he didn’t want to rush her or crowd her or try to control her, not like he’d tried when he was eighteen.

  Step-by-step, is what Simon said. Don’t look too far ahead. Zane peered out the window. That was easy for Simon to say—he’d never been a planner. But that was what Zane needed to learn to do, to be happy in the moment.

  Lila took a large piece of fabric out of her bag.

  “What are you working on?” he asked.

  “A crazy quilt.”

  He noticed then that the squares weren’t uniform. �
�Is that the blue fabric from my quilt?” he asked.

  She nodded and pointed at a green print. “And this is from Simon’s.”

  The fabrics were blues, greens, and purples, and the thread was gold. She’d embroidered a gate and a flower on the square. Zane pointed to the gate. She nodded.

  It was their gate, just as he’d suspected. He wondered what she’d embroidered on the other pieces.

  He smiled at her, and she ducked her head, probably embarrassed at the attention over the quilt. But he was pretty sure she was telling her story through her stitching—maybe even their story.

  Adam bumped Zane’s arm. “What do you need, Bub?” he asked without turning around.

  “What’s up with you two?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re all googly-eyed.”

  Zane turned in his seat, accidentally bumping against Lila’s leg. She scooted it away from him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and then turned his attention to Adam.

  “You told me you and Lila grew up—that you weren’t friends anymore.”

  “Shani,” Lila said, leaning forward.

  Zane bristled. He didn’t want his mom’s attention directed to the back of the van.

  “How is your new quilt coming along?”

  Mom started talking about how hard the pattern was, much more difficult than she’d thought when she chose it. “I think maybe it’s too hard for me.”

  Lila knew what she was doing. Mom wouldn’t hear a thing in the back as long as they were talking.

  “Are you and Trudy friends?” Zane asked Adam.

  He nodded.

  “So are we. Except we’ve been friends longer than the two of you have.”

  “You guys can’t be anything more than friends, right? Because she’s Amish and you’re a soldier.”

  “That’s right,” Zane said. “That’s how it works.”

  Lila gave him a quick glance and then turned her attention back to his mom.

  “That’s good,” Adam said. “Because that’s all I want to be too—Trudy’s friend.”

  Zane turned back around, bumping Lila’s leg again. This time she didn’t move it, but he moved his in front of his seat and then stared back out the window, half hearing the talk about his mom’s quilt.

  He’d always wanted to be more than just Lila’s friend—for as long as he’d known her. He swallowed hard, trying to quell the sense of dread rising in his throat. He didn’t want to take things step-by-step. But what other choice did he have?

  Saturday afternoon, Zane looped the hammer into his tool belt and repositioned the board on the outside of the chicken coop. He was afraid it would fall down on Adam and Trudy one of these days as they played house along the back of it. He called out to Adam. “Come help me, Bub.”

  When his brother didn’t respond, Zane called out his name again.

  “I can help.” Tim stood on the other side of the hedge.

  “Thanks,” Zane said as their neighbor approached. “I don’t know where Trudy took off to. Probably back in the house with Adam.”

  “I’ll find her after I hold this for you.” Tim pressed against the boards, and Zane hammered the nails into place. Once it was secure, Tim let go.

  “Is your shoulder doing all right, then?”

  Zane nodded. “I don’t have full mobility but enough to do what I need to.”

  “To go back?” Tim asked.

  “Into the Army, but not to Afghanistan. They already replaced me.”

  “Gut.” For once, Tim’s eyes reflected compassion.

  Zane didn’t want to admit just how gut it was. “I’ll be done, altogether, in June.”

  “Will you come home for good then?”

  “I’d like to,” Zane said.

  “Trudy said you’ll be home now for another ten days or so.”

  Zane nodded.

  “I could use some help with the milking this afternoon. Rose is off working as a mother’s helper today for Monika’s oldest girl, and Lila’s going into the restaurant for a few hours.”

  “Of course,” Zane said. “I can come over right now.” He enjoyed the milking. He enjoyed everything that had to do with farmwork. “I’ll go tell Mom where I’m going and find Trudy too.”

  By the time Zane had the kids rounded up, Tim had already headed to the barn.

  “Can I help too?” Adam asked.

  “Probably,” Zane answered. “We’ll ask Tim.”

  Zane breathed in the cool air. The afternoon had grown crisp, a perfect autumn day.

  By the time they reached the barn, Tim had the first group of cows hooked up to the vacuum milkers. He was fine with Trudy and Adam helping, as long as they stayed out of his way. Zane directed Adam to feed the cows, the first job he’d ever done way back when he helped the Lehman boys with the milking.

  Trudy and Adam chatted a little, but mostly everyone kept quiet. That was fine with Zane. But then Lila came in the barn.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Helping your Dat.”

  She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Why?”

  Tim poked his head out from the milking room where the big vat was kept. “I asked him to help.”

  “Oh,” she answered, giving Zane a confused look and then turning toward her Dat. “I’m off to work. Dinner is in the oven. Rose will be home by seven, and I should be home by ten.”

  Tim acknowledged what she said and stepped back into the milk room.

  Zane put his hand to his ear as if he were holding a phone.

  She shook her head. He gave her a questioning look. “Don’t do that,” she mouthed.

  He nodded and put his hand down. He shrugged and smiled. She shook her head again, just a little. “Bye,” she mouthed and waved without smiling. Then she called out a good-bye to Trudy and Adam, who had run after a couple of kittens.

  Adam headed home a little while later, but Zane kept helping until the work was done. Tim shook his hand and told him he appreciated it.

  “I’d be happy to help tomorrow,” Zane said.

  “How about in the morning? Lila seems a little tired lately.”

  Zane swallowed hard. Probably from all of her late-night phone calls with him. “Sure,” he said. “I’d be happy to help. Do you still get started at five?”

  “Jah,” Tim said. “So make sure and get to bed early.”

  “Will do,” Zane said, turning to go.

  “Zane?”

  He stopped and turned, afraid for a moment about what Tim might say.

  “Denki,” he said. “I appreciate your help.”

  Zane nodded and said, “See you tomorrow.” He stretched his arm and shoulder as he walked back through the field, trying to shake the soreness out. As the last Licht of the day skirted above the trees, he wondered what had come over Tim. His kindness made Zane feel as if he should tell the man he was in love with his daughter. Zane hated to be deceptive about his feelings and the nightly phone calls, but he didn’t want to betray Lila either.

  After dinner, Zane checked his Army e-mail account on his parents’ computer. There were a couple of generic ones, one from his physical therapist with a copy of his release and one from Casey.

  Things have been pretty busy around here—the fighting keeps going even though the weather has cooled. More bad guys are getting through the passes, compromising our work. The other team got shot at on Monday up in the mountains and took a couple of minor injuries. Another unit from base landed on an IED and lost two. Sad times.

  The new translator has had a lot of lower back pain. Could be kidney stones. We’re down at base and he’s in the clinic. I’ll keep you posted.

  Zane groaned. Hopefully the guy had just pulled a muscle.

  We saw Jaalal day before yesterday. Sarge is still leery of trusting him. Of course Grant thinks we’re crazy to. I honestly don’t have any bad vibes though. We miss you, but I’m glad you’re home. Have a good trip back to Texas, and we’ll all see you there soon.

  H
e really couldn’t have asked for a better friend than Casey. She had his back.

  At ten p.m., Zane put on his father’s heavy coat, turned off the porch light, went outside, and sat down on the top porch step. Thankfully his parents had gone to bed. He dialed the number of the phone in the Lehmans’ barn and then waited as it rang. After the ninth ring, right before the answering machine would have come on, he hung up. After another five minutes, spent gazing at the stars overhead, he called again.

  This time she answered.

  “How was work?” he asked.

  “Gut,” she answered, but she sounded a little stilted.

  “Sorry about making the phone gesture,” he said.

  “Jah,” she answered. “I don’t want Dat to get suspicious.”

  “We should talk to him, then,” Zane said.

  “Not yet.”

  Zane gazed up at the stars again as he spoke. “I’m helping with the milking in the morning.”

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  The tip of his nose was growing icy in the cold. “Your Dat asked me.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Beth is coming over for breakfast before church. I don’t think Dat will ask you to stay, but if he does tell him you can’t.”

  Zane stood. “Lila . . .”

  “Dat might be obtuse, but Beth will guess how we feel for each other if she sees us together.”

  He walked to the bottom of the steps. “Maybe that’s best.”

  “What would we say to him? That we have no plan? No idea how or if we can be together?”

  “We’ll be together, Lila,” Zane said, keeping his voice as calm as he could as he walked toward the field.

  “Do you plan to join the Amish? Because I don’t plan to leave.”

  “I know you don’t,” he said, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “I can’t say what I plan to do. I need to get out of the Army first.”

  When he was home working on the chicken coop or helping Tim with the milking, he honestly thought he could join the Amish. But it seemed ridiculous to say that now, as a U.S. soldier. Perhaps both he and Lila could become Mennonite after he was discharged. He could hope anyway.