Until I Love Again

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Susanna looked away and didn’t answer. She felt anything but safe, but her feelings couldn’t be trusted at the moment. Ernest’s warning about all the dangers once she jumped the fence into the world rang in her ears.

  “Are you sure you don’t want another sandwich?” Beatrice offered again. “Or some chicken?”

  “No, thank you. I’m finished.” Susanna forced herself to smile. “And thanks for listening to my story. Somehow it does help that someone else knows. I don’t think I could have told Joey everything I told you.”

  “I understand.” Beatrice touched Susanna’s arm. “Now, what shall we do for the rest of the evening?”

  Susanna didn’t think too long. “I need to go shopping,” she declared.

  “On a Sunday?” Beatrice showed her surprise. “You’re Amish and also tired, I’m sure.”

  “Maybe tired,” Susanna allowed. “But I’m no longer Amish.” Her words were steady, but she couldn’t hide the pain on her face.

  “You poor thing.” Beatrice came close to give Susanna another long hug before she asked, “Do you have money? Things aren’t cheap from the stores, and I know you’re probably used to making your own clothes.”

  Susanna’s head spun. She had placed all of her savings in the pocket of one of the dresses she had packed, but it wasn’t much. Now her two hundred dollars seemed even smaller. She would have to make the money last and spend with care until she could begin her job again at the DeKalb Building Supply. “I guess I don’t have much,” Susanna allowed. “I’ll have to make things by hand as usual—Englisha things, of course, if you’ll let me use your sewing machine.”

  Beatrice wrinkled her face. “I’d be glad to help out, but I don’t own a sewing machine. Maybe you could rent one from the local dry goods store.”

  “Then I guess I should rest this evening instead of shopping,” Susanna allowed. A great weariness swept over her. “If that doesn’t impose too much on you.”

  “You’ll have to stop saying that,” Beatrice chided her. “We’re here to help until you can stand on your own two feet. But come, the men will wonder if the kitchen has eaten us up.”

  Susanna nodded and followed Beatrice back to the living room. Joey stood when they walked in, but Beatrice motioned for him to sit. “We’re not going anywhere the rest of the evening. Susanna needs her rest.”

  Yah, she needed to rest. And then she glanced over to the familiar piano. Susanna walked toward it, and Joey quickly joined her. A peace settled over her as they approached the bench and took their places.

  Susanna touched her fingers to the keys. Slowly she searched for the music as the pain throbbed in her heart. What she found was quietness where the chords touched the deepest part of her and loosened yet more tears. Susanna ignored everything around her as she continued to play.

  When she stopped, silence filled the room.

  “That was lovely,” Langford said in a hushed tone.

  Susanna’s fingers moved on the keys again. She played with more confidence this time, her thoughts on the future that lay ahead of her. She might never love again, but she could live. Was this not the beginning of a new life? It was, Susanna decided, and her fingers moved even more swiftly on the piano keys.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ernest sat at his supper table and tried to hide his irritated feelings. A short temper had followed him in from the barn. He had almost attacked a hay bale with his foot but decided not to lest he stub his toe.

  “How was your day, Daett?” Lizzie chirped as she ate her soup.

  Ernest managed a smile. “Goot. Eat plenty of food now, so you can sleep well. Katherine’s soup is the best as always, you know.”

  His sister gave him a wry look from across the table. She knew the soup was average, tossed together hurriedly amid her other household work. Katherine was not happy with him, and he couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t happy either, but what could be done about it now? Deacon Herman had let Emma off lightly for her recent escapade. And now, according to what Bishop Enos’s son Paul had told him this morning in town, Susanna had left with her Englisha boyfriend on Sunday evening right after he left the Millers’ house.

  The embarrassment of it all stung him deeply. Why hadn’t Ralph found the time to drive over and tell him that Susanna was gone? But of course, Ralph hadn’t wanted to face things. The man had handled Susanna with soft gloves all her life, though strong discipline had been needed. But regrets weren’t going to help. There must be something he could do to bring Susanna back. He needed her, as did his two daughters. And since this morning an idea had started to form in his mind that might work. He could speak with one of the neighboring bishops and ask for their intervention. He could point out how the situation had been handled incorrectly, and how a harsher punishment could have kept Susanna at home with her daett. Maybe Susanna could still be brought back if she saw discipline applied to Emma, the way it should have been done. It was worth a try, and the sooner the better.

  “Have you told them?” Katherine interrupted his thoughts to motion toward the two girls.

  Ernest shook his head.

  “But you must, and tonight,” Katherine said in a loud whisper. “Pretty soon someone else will.”

  She had a point, but he didn’t want to tell his girls that Susanna would not be their mamm after all. That would close the book on the subject, and he wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  When he remained silent, Katherine threatened, “I will tell them myself if you don’t.”

  “Okay!” He let his exasperation show. “I’ll tell them.”

  “Tell us what, Daett?” Lizzie asked.

  You don’t want to know, Ernest almost said. Katherine gave him a sharp look as if she had read his mind, but he finally got the words out. “Girls, Susanna may not become your mamm after all.”

  Lizzie pondered the information for a moment before she objected. “But Susanna used to smile at me at the Sunday service when I ran up to her. Of course she’s going to be our mamm.”

  “She held me once,” Martha piped in.

  “Just don’t think about it right now,” Ernest said, more harshly than he meant.

  “You call that telling them?” Katherine glared at him. “It’s time you faced the truth, Ernest, and began looking for another frau. I can’t stay around here forever, you know.”

  “You’re right,” Ernest admitted. “I have to do something.”

  Katherine didn’t appear convinced of his intentions and seconds later began again. “Emma spoke with me at the Sunday service, she—”

  “What’s that woman saying now?” Ernest’s voice rose to a roar.

  Katherine gave him another glare. “Calm yourself, Ernest. She was just talking with me. You know she’s in love with you, don’t you? You ought to consider her. That wouldn’t be much different from considering Susanna—since you seem to prefer young women over widows.”

  Ernest forced a laugh. “Not that long ago you were trying to push the Widow Laura on me, or was it the Widow Hannah?”

  “Don’t mock me.” Katherine’s words were clipped. “I could leave and go home, you know. What would you do then? Send the girls with me?”

  Ernest flinched and didn’t answer.

  Katherine didn’t back down. “You are going to do something, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going right now,” Ernest said, springing to his feet. “But it’s not what you think,” he said over his shoulder as he closed the washroom door behind him.

  Outside an early dusk had fallen, and Ernest grabbed a light coat before he exited the house. He shouldn’t be out late on a Wednesday evening if he planned to work tomorrow. The summer chore load was heavy right now. On top of that, his field of hay was cut and still lay behind the barn. Tomorrow it should be raked and baled. Still, the matters of the soul must be attended to. He needed a frau, and he wanted Susanna to fill that place. Badly! She would be a perfect mamm for little Lizzie and Martha. And Susanna must not waste her life among the Englisha
people when the Lord had such a goot work prepared for her in the community. She must not!

  With his face set, Ernest harnessed Gambit and hitched him to the buggy. He jiggled the reins and drove rapidly out of the lane. Bishop Mark was from the district to the north and lived on Old Canton Road. Ernest could be there in twenty minutes if he hurried. The conversation shouldn’t take too long, and he’d be back in time to give Lizzie and Martha a quick hug before their bedtime.

  Katherine insisted on the gesture each evening. Katherine said the girls needed extra attention from their daett with their mamm gone. He imagined Katherine was right on that point, but she was not right about Emma. He could not reward Emma with a proposal after her disloyal actions. What kind of example would that set if Emma was given a place in his home after playing such a prominent role in Susanna’s departure? And as for the two widows who would gladly take up his wedding proposal, he didn’t want either of them as his frau.

  “No!” Ernest shouted out the side of his open buggy door. “Susanna is to be my frau!”

  The sound echoed in the woods as if to mock him, but he set his face again as the miles rolled under his buggy wheels. The man who gave up easily was not worth much. This battle was his to fight, and the prize was having Susanna back where she belonged as his promised one. In a few months she would say the marriage vows with him, and he would not have to worry about her departure again.

  Bishop Mark’s place appeared ahead, and Ernest slowed down to turn into the driveway. A mad dash up to the bishop’s barn would be the wrong way to begin a conversation. He was already on thin ice with this visit, so he had to walk carefully.

  With slow motions Ernest pulled back on the reins and climbed down from the buggy. He tied Gambit to the ring on the barn wall, and approached the front door. The bishop’s frau, Esther, answered the door.

  “Goot evening,” she greeted him.

  Ernest nodded. “Goot evening. Is the bishop at home?”

  “Yah.” Esther held open the door. “He’s sitting right in here. Come on in.”

  “I won’t be long,” Ernest assured her. “And I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

  “We have heard of your situation,” Esther said. “That’s terrible how things have been going over in Bishop Enos’s district.”

  “They are terrible,” Ernest agreed, taking off his hat. He turned his attention to the bishop seated in his rocker. Obviously he didn’t have to give a detailed description to the bishop of why he had come. “Goot evening, bishop,” Ernest began. “I thought a little counsel from another source would be wise.”

  Bishop Mark stroked his beard for a second before he answered. “Yah, we’ve been hearing about things from your district. Lots of trouble in the Lord’s vineyard, it seems. The enemy lets loose little foxes all the time.”

  “But there is safety in the multitude of counsel, is there not?” Ernest hastened to say.

  Bishop Mark stroked his beard again. “From what we’ve been hearing, one of the little foxes has left the Lord’s vineyard. That’s much to be thankful for, I would say. Do you not agree?”

  “I don’t know,” Ernest sputtered. “It’s not all what it seems. Or maybe you haven’t heard the whole story or don’t know Susanna Miller that well. The fact is, after her…well, her wild rumspringa, Susanna was settling down, and we were moving toward our plans for our wedding day this fall. But Emma Yutzy stepped in and convinced Susanna to meet her old Englisha boyfriend. Susanna never would have done so on her own, so you can see why I’m upset. I think the situation can still be saved if the proper measures are taken. As it is, Emma got by with nary an admonition…and as you say, Susanna has left.” Ernest hurried on. “At least that’s what I wanted to ask you about. Surely there is no harm in asking after wisdom from the Lord’s assigned leaders in the community.”

  Bishop Mark’s hand stopped halfway down his beard, and he regarded Ernest with a steady gaze. “You would question the wisdom of your own bishop then?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  Bishop Mark cut him off. “You are not a minister, are you? Have you been ordained to lead the Lord’s people?”

  Ernest pulled himself up straight. “I have been called to lead my home, and Susanna was my intended promised one. In this I have a right to speak when someone takes her from me.”

  “I see,” Bishop Mark said. “In this you would be right, so let’s speak further on the matter—now that I know you are not challenging Bishop Enos’s authority.”

  Ernest nodded and set his face again. “Far be it from me to do such a thing, Bishop Mark. I am a humble servant and take no responsibility that does not belong to me. I have served faithfully ever since my baptism as a member in the district. You can ask Bishop Enos if you wish. I would not challenge him on anything. But I love Susanna, and I have a right to ask questions.”

  Bishop Mark grunted. “Questions and challenges are close cousins if not brothers, but I will give you the point. I can understand why you would be distraught over this matter. Susanna Miller is a beautiful woman, but she has the wild Englisha blood of her mother in her, Ernest. Surely you would not wish to take such a woman as your frau?”

  “I think Susanna is being judged too harshly.” Ernest kept his voice even. “It is discipline that she lacks, and this is what should have been given to her—and to Emma for that matter. The Lord knows I tried.”

  Bishop Mark eyed Ernest with a sharp look. “So you say Susanna was judged too harshly, meaning she was goot on the inside but only needed stronger discipline. That would imply there were no big problems in her life.”

  “Does not discipline deal with wrongness?” Ernest tried to keep the desperation out of his voice. “And I realize no one is perfect. I was willing to work with Susanna. We didn’t have to lose her to the Englisha people. What does this say about our ability to keep people in the faith? Beyond that, one of our own young women helps the erring one in the wrong direction. Emma was clearly out of her place. I don’t see how no one can understand that.”

  “Perhaps because Emma’s eyes were wider open then yours were. That’s your answer, Ernest.” Bishop Mark shifted on his rocker. “At least, that’s what I was told by Deacon Herman. Would you claim the deacon was wrong?”

  Ernest swallowed twice before he answered. “I am not an ordained man, but I am the husband of my family, and my two daughters need a mamm. Badly! Surely no one can question that, and Susanna was the woman to fill that empty spot. Don’t I get to decide that?”

  “My heart is with you, Ernest,” Bishop Mark allowed. “Maybe I would feel the same way in your situation, but clearly you have been blinded by Susanna’s beauty. You have allowed her allure to create feelings in your heart that are not wise. In this you had best give way to those who can see clearer and from a better viewpoint. Emma was right. Deacon Herman has told me this, and I have no reason to doubt his word. Especially since Bishop Enos agrees with him. You had best back down on this issue and not complain further. Seeking counsel is one thing, but pushing things too far is unwise. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” Ernest stared at the living room wall.

  “We value peace in the community,” Bishop Mark continued. “Troublemakers are not appreciated. You know this. If I were you, I’d ask Emma to marry me this weekend. Get this whole thing behind you, Ernest. Your objections to how Susanna’s case was handled are well known in the community. Perhaps better than you think. Many are watching to see how you take this, and they will remember—as our people should. Those who cannot accept the discipline of the Lord are not appreciated. Everyone except you seems to know that Susanna has always been a risk to the community. She was granted patience only because of Ralph’s full repentance of his sins and because of his desire to extend the grace of the Lord to his daughter. A daughter who—I must remind you—was begotten in sin. The community extended her that same grace, but Susanna clearly did not benefit from what the community offered. You had best accept that fact, Ernest.
Stop in at Emma’s place on the way home and speak kind words to her. That would go a long way to settling this whole matter in the minds of our people.”

  “I—” Ernest began, but stopped. Further words were useless. This whole thing had turned on him, and now the community thought he was to blame and needed repentance. Anger stirred in him, but he couldn’t allow the bishop to see. “I will think on this,” he concluded.

  Esther must have heard the end of the conversation because she stuck her head out of the kitchen and asked, “Would you like a piece of pie, perhaps? Before you go?”

  Ernest tried to smile and said, “No. I must be going. It’s late already.”

  “Remember what I said,” Bishop Mark hollered after him as Ernest went out the door.

  Ernest took the porch steps two at a time, but slowed as he approached the buggy again. He should have stayed home tonight, but he hadn’t, and now it was too late. All he had done was make things worse for himself. Bishop Mark thought he should take Emma as his frau. Katherine had told him the same thing tonight, but he was not about to listen to a woman. How could he take that low-down, sneaky Emma into his home? How could a woman like Emma call his daughters her own? He was not ready to stoop that low.

  “And may it never happen,” Ernest whispered into the night as he untied Gambit and drove out of the bishop’s lane.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Joey arrived home to the sound of piano music wafting out the window. He grinned, parked his car, and climbed out. That would be Susanna again. With a soft step he cautiously approached the house.

  His mother stopped him at the front door. “Shh…don’t disturb her until she’s finished.”

  “She’s good, isn’t she?” Joey asked.

  Beatrice smiled. “I knew the girl could play, but I hadn’t been paying much attention when she was here over the weekends.”