Until I Love Again

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Barely fifteen minutes after she had run up to her room, Susanna heard the sound of buggy wheels pulling in the driveway. She peeked out of the bedroom window, and as she expected, it was Ernest who had arrived.

  She turned to take slow steps back to her bedroom dresser, where a small quilted cover hung over each side. Susanna ran her fingers along the soft edges and remembered that Mamm had made it for her sixteenth birthday, in honor of the start of her rumspringa. It was to be a reminder that her heart should always stay close to home.

  Susanna tore her gaze away from the quilted cover. It was just another piece of her life she would be leaving behind. Yah, she would leave today. Before nightfall, even. Why, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps if she stopped too long to think, doubt would enter her heart. There was no other way. She could not fit into the community. She had tried her best, and now she must move on.

  With one hand Susanna opened the top dresser drawer and searched for the cell phone. She’d tell Joey to give her two hours to pack. She couldn’t take much with her anyway. Her Amish clothing couldn’t be worn in the Englisha world—at least not for long. She wouldn’t be one of those people who lived with one foot in each place.

  Susanna punched in Joey’s number and pressed Send. “Pick up…pick up,” she whispered as the phone rang. What if Joey didn’t answer? It was a Sunday afternoon, and Joey surely wasn’t sitting round waiting for her to call.

  The phone beeped, and a voice said, “This is the Macalisters’. Please leave a message.”

  Susanna took a deep breath and spoke rapidly. “Don’t call me back, Joey. Can you just come pick me up around six or so? I’m leaving the community for goot. Sorry for the short notice, but things have happened rather quickly. If you can’t come, I understand. I’ll set out on foot and catch a ride into Heuvelton the best I can.”

  Susanna slipped the phone back into the drawer and closed it. If Joey didn’t come, he’d make contact with her tomorrow. She would call him from a hotel and let him know where she had landed. Phone conversations would no longer be a problem once she was out of the community.

  A quick knock came on the bedroom door, and Mamm called out, “Susanna, Ernest’s here. You need to come down.”

  “Yah, I’m coming,” Susanna called back.

  There was silence in the hallway for a moment. “Why are you dawdling?” Mamm asked.

  Because I don’t want to see him, Susanna almost said, but she bit back the quick retort. Instead, she crossed the room and opened the door. Mamm’s worried face appeared in the darkened hallway. “Are you okay?”

  “Yah, I’ll come down,” Susanna answered.

  Mamm seemed satisfied and led the way downstairs. “There’s still time to change your mind,” Mamm whispered over her shoulder, just before she opened the stairwell door.

  Susanna didn’t respond. The look on her face said enough. Mamm sighed and fell silent.

  Daett stood to his feet when they entered the living room. Ernest was already standing and looked toward Susanna with sorrow etched on his face. At least his anger from the church service was no longer there.

  “You two can speak outside on the porch,” Daett said, motioning with his hand toward the front door.

  The hopeless expression on Daett’s face was almost more than Susanna could take. How could she live with herself after this? She wanted to rush over and give Daett a hug, to tell him she had changed her mind—that instead she would be the daughter he had always hoped she would be. She wanted to say that she would never disobey him again, and that she would be Ernest’s frau or anything else he wanted, if only life could be made right again. But that wouldn’t change anything. They all needed to face that which could not be changed.

  Ernest didn’t look at her but led the way outside. There he settled on the porch swing, its chains creaking. Ernest still harbored that same sorrowful look. Susanna sat down beside him and said, “We don’t have to do this. I’ve made up my mind to leave.”

  Ernest sat up straighter. “But I’m still willing to wed you. That is not going to change. I have my two daughters to think of, and my love for you.”

  “No, Ernest. I’m not saying the marriage vows with you.” Susanna tried to sound forceful. “I could never be the kind of frau you want.”

  His anger flared. “I’ll decide that—not you or anyone else. Please, Susanna, reconsider this. I can speak with Bishop Enos and something can be done.”

  “I am not promised to you,” Susanna said. “I never was, and even if I had promised, would you want a frau who was always regretting her proposed marriage to you? I don’t think so.”

  Ernest’s anger still lingered. “Don’t be telling me what I think, Susanna. I want a frau to take care of the house and my two daughters. Your heart will settle down once the marriage vows are said, and you will begin to care for Lizzie and Martha. Maybe I should have brought them along this afternoon so you could be reminded of your duties.”

  Susanna looked away. “I know my duties, Ernest, and they are to avoid marriage to a man I don’t love. Nothing else can be right if I don’t stay true to what I know. I’m not—”

  “You’re speaking like an Englisha woman,” Ernest interrupted. “This is not what you have been taught. Your daett did what he knew was right by raising you to be a faithful member of the community, and that duty includes marriage to me. You cannot do anything else, Susanna. Not if you want to do what is right in the eyes of the Lord.”

  Susanna met his gaze. “I have struggled long and hard over this, Ernest. So please don’t make things worse. You know I love Daett, and I would gladly live the life he had planned for me. But I have also told you that I will never agree to marry you without loving you. What is wrong with you that you continue to insist on a marriage without love? Is it because I had an Englisha mamm and you think I must accept you?” Susanna stopped. Ernest’s mind appeared miles away as he stared off into the distance.

  A slight smile played on his face. “I believe none of this,” he said. “With your marriage to me, the Lord can meet the needs of my daughters. Our marriage would comfort my heart and turn your situation from something evil into something goot. You must not blame the Lord for what was done wrong in the past, but rather give thanks for the blessing He brought out of this horrible situation. That’s still possible, Susanna.”

  “I am leaving tonight,” Susanna whispered.

  Ernest’s head jerked up. “Haven’t you been listening to a word I said? How many times do I have to say this? You don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not going to sit idly by while you ruin your life. With my goot word on your behalf, I’m sure the little kerfuffle you caused in church this morning can be smoothed over with Bishop Enos. I’ll go talk with Deacon Herman right now. All you have to do is behave yourself in the future, and everything will be all right.”

  “No, it will not be all right. I’m sorry I led you on this long.” Susanna hung her head. “I was only trying to do what was right. Somehow I thought everything would work out and everyone would be happy. I was wrong.”

  “It can work out all right, Susanna!” Ernest persisted. “You are your own worst enemy! Forget this foolishness. Where would you go anyway? Who do you know out there in that evil world?” Ernest waved his hand toward the horizon. “What will happen to you? How will you ever find the love you have experienced here in the community? And what about your affection for your daett? Consider the shame you’re bringing on him.”

  Susanna stood to her feet and stepped away from Ernest. “We have said enough!”

  “You’re not leaving like this,” Ernest ordered. “Sit down again at once until you’re ready to repent.”

  Susanna didn’t respond, but opened the front door and stepped inside the house. Ernest sputtered something behind her, but she closed the door on him. Mamm stared openmouthed at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Susanna whispered. “I’ll be out of here soon, and then you won’t have to—” Susanna st
opped in midsentence and fled back up the stairs. Of what use were apologies? The longer this was drawn out, the more painful the experience would become. Daett already looked like a lost and forlorn little boy. But she would think no more. The time had come for action.

  Susanna went into her bedroom and peeked out the curtains. Ernest was standing beside his buggy, apparently lost in deep thought.

  She turned from the window, went out into the hall, and headed to the storage room at the end of the house. Noah and Tobias were looking out of their bedroom door at her. She gave them a quick smile, and they went back to their play.

  Susanna opened the storage room door and found a small suitcase. That was all she would need. Most of her clothing would stay. She returned to her bedroom and with quick movements packed the suitcase. The last item was still laid out on the bed quilt when she heard a car in the driveway. Susanna raced to the window to make sure it was Joey and then returned to close the suitcase. With the handle firmly in her grasp, she made her way back downstairs.

  When she walked into the living room, Mamm had tears on her cheeks. But Daett came over to envelop her in his arms.

  “Oh, Susanna,” he whispered. “How I have loved you, and how greatly I have failed you.”

  “You have not failed,” Susanna said. “But I must do what I think is best.” She continued to cling to his strong arms. She never wanted to let go, but she must.

  “How did Joey know to come?” Mamm asked.

  Susanna hesitated, but Mamm didn’t wait for an answer. She hurried toward the washroom door. “I’ll call the boys, so they can say their good-byes.”

  “Don’t!” Susanna stopped Mamm. “I don’t think I can bear it now. Just tell them I love them.”

  Susanna untangled herself from Daett’s arms, grabbed her suitcase, and fled out the front door.

  Chapter Thirty

  The walk across the lawn toward Joey’s car seemed to take forever. Susanna forced herself to look back, but the front porch was empty. A sob escaped her, and she swallowed quickly. Joey didn’t need to see her turning into a blubbering mess. She was not the first girl to ever leave home. At least she had a friend to call to support her decision. Susanna caught sight of movement in the barn window, where James’s face peered out. She should have let Mamm call the boys in to say their good-byes, but the pain would have been too much to bear. Maybe soon she could come back, and…

  “Susanna.” Joey spoke her name softly. He came closer and held out his hand. She took it, and he helped her into the car.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as she settled into her seat.

  “Yah,” she said. “I think so.”

  “Your message was so unexpected,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’m sorry for how difficult this is, but I had hoped this day would come eventually.”

  Joey started the car and backed up to turn around near the barn. Henry and James had come out of the barn to watch them leave, but neither of her brothers moved or waved. She couldn’t make out the looks on their faces, but she knew happiness was not written there. Her own heart throbbed and tears rolled down her cheeks. Joey reached over and squeezed her hand. “No one said it would be easy,” he offered. “But I’ll do all I can to help in the weeks ahead.”

  “Joey, I already owe you so much,” Susanna said. “If you’ll just give me a place to stay for a night or two, I’ll find something and be out of your hair, and out of your life.”

  Joey stopped Susanna with a touch of his hand. “Nonsense. I told my mother before I left that you were coming. She said you’re welcome to stay for as long as you wish. She understands. She told me she remembers Mindy Whithus and what happened back then. She never realized you were the baby she delivered before she died.”

  Susanna was silent for the rest of the trip. Silence was exactly what she needed. That and comfort.

  “Here we are,” Joey said as he pulled in the driveway.

  Susanna waited until Joey stopped the car and came around to open the door for her. She could have climbed out herself, but Joey wanted to help in whatever way he could—and she wanted him to. He touched her heart deeply with his actions. She wished she could show him how much, but all she could do was look up into his face and whisper, “Thank you.”

  “I am honored,” he said, with one hand on the car door. With the other he reached for hers. Then he retrieved her small suitcase from the backseat. “Shall we?” Joey motioned toward the front door.

  Joey’s mother, Beatrice, opened the door with Joey’s father, Langford, only a step behind. The two smiled a warm welcome, and Beatrice wrapped Susanna in a hug.

  “You poor thing,” Beatrice cooed. “Joey told me all about what happened. I can’t believe people would act like that in this day and—”

  “Mother,” Joey cut in. “Susanna feels bad enough already.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Beatrice backtracked at once. “I’m sorry for adding my criticism to your pain, but do come in and make yourself at home. It’s not as though you’re a stranger.”

  “Hi, Susanna,” Langford said with a smile. He offered a handshake, his grip firm.

  “You sure you don’t mind my staying here?” Susanna glanced down at her Amish dress. “I guess I should go shopping this evening and get something…more appropriate.”

  Langford smiled. “I’m around Amish people every day. They are godly, hardworking people, and it’s a privilege to have one of their daughters staying in my home.”

  “Thank you,” Susanna said. “That’s why leaving is so hard for me.”

  “That life is not for everyone,” Langford added quickly. “You just make yourself at home with us, and don’t think too much right now. I’m sure things are very confused in your mind. But at least Joey here will keep you straight.”

  “He has been more than kind.” Susanna managed to smile.

  Langford patted Joey on the shoulder. “He’s a decent kid, if I can say so myself.”

  “Father,” Joey muttered, “I’m to blame for Susanna’s break with her family, if anyone is.”

  “No, you’re not,” Susanna protested. “There’s no one to blame but myself and my inability to fit in with the community.”

  Langford regarded her for a moment. “I’m sure you’re the least to blame, Susanna, but now’s not the time to speak of blame. You’re probably hungry and in need of a good night’s rest.”

  Susanna nodded and said, “I think you’re right. Thanks for understanding.”

  “Come.” Beatrice took Susanna’s arm. “We’ve already had supper, but let’s see what we can find in the kitchen for you.”

  Susanna allowed herself to be led. She was hungry—there was no question about that. How that was possible, she didn’t know. Hunger and sorrow didn’t go together. Susanna’s head drooped as she felt another pang of remorse over what had to be.

  Beatrice noticed and turned to give Susanna another quick hug. “The first few days will be the hardest,” Beatrice said. “After that, things will look up.”

  “Thanks,” Susanna whispered. Beatrice was kind to say the words, even if Susanna felt her life could never be right again. “You’re so kind to take me in. I’ll try not to be a greater burden than necessary and to move on quickly toward the next step of my journey.”

  “Hush now,” Beatrice told her as she opened the refrigerator door. “What shall it be? We have cold cuts for sandwiches. I think we have some leftover fried chicken.”

  “Anything will be fine,” Susanna said. “A sandwich is all I need, and I can make it myself. I think I know where everything is.”

  Beatrice hesitated but then sat down at the kitchen table. “Okay, but I’ll listen while you work. Tell me a little about what happened, dear. That helps sometimes. Oh, the cheese is in the bottom drawer, and the knives are to your left.”

  Susanna busied herself with the sandwich and didn’t answer at once. Beatrice waited in a comfortable silence. When she was done, Susanna brought the sandwich to the table
and sat near Beatrice.

  Should she offer a prayer of thanks? Beatrice answered the question when she smiled and bowed her head for a silent prayer.

  “I suppose you could use plenty of prayers in the days ahead,” Beatrice offered when they lifted their heads again.

  “Yah, I could,” Susanna agreed before taking a bite of her sandwich. The food tasted wunderbah and then some.

  “Is the sandwich okay?” Beatrice asked.

  Susanna nodded. Her mouth was full. She surely must appear ill-mannered, but hunger had overtaken her.

  “Shall I make another one for you?” Beatrice asked a moment later.

  Susanna swallowed before she answered. “No, this will be plenty. Thank you, though.”

  “So, can you share a little about your leaving home this afternoon, or is it too painful?” Beatrice asked.

  Susanna stared at the last of her sandwich for a second. “How much has Joey told you?”

  Beatrice grinned. “He’s a man. Not much, believe me.”

  Susanna chuckled and wrinkled her brow, and then she began the story. If Beatrice had been a stranger, Susanna couldn’t have said a word, but Beatrice was now a friend, so the whole story poured out quickly.

  “I considered marrying Ernest for what I thought were the right reasons,” Susanna finished, “but thankfully I came to my senses in time. Emma’s insight helped, and Joey’s, of course. I couldn’t have made it without him.”

  “Does this happen often in the community?” Beatrice asked.

  “Oh, no,” Susanna hurried to say. “It’s because I have an Englisha mother that there was so much trouble. That’s why I turned out the way I did. No one could change that.”

  Doubt was in Beatrice’s eyes. “It’s seems as if your father would have wanted what was best for you instead of trying to marry you off to this Ernest fellow,” she said. “But never mind. You’re safe now.”