He lifted his fork and took a bite of pie. “Maybe.”
Ellen prayed silently, asking God to plant seeds in her son’s heart and water them. If Roman could see his life through the eyes of faith, he’d find his way.
A loud rap at the back door startled her. She got up. “Sounds like we have visitors on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe it’ll be someone willing to eat that pie you’re turning your nose up at.”
When she opened the door, she was mildly surprised to see Moses. He didn’t come over often, usually to see if they needed anything when he’d heard that David was having a bad spell. But David wasn’t down, and concern ran through her. “Good afternoon. Would you care to come in?”
He shook his head. “What I have to say needs to be said in private.” Moses’s voice was so soft she’d barely heard him. “Do you prefer I talk to David or you?”
Moses was a peculiar man, and she’d yet to figure him out. She stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her. “He and the children are at the diner for the afternoon. What seems to be the matter?”
“Your father-in-law and I went into business together years before your husband was born. And even though he’s been gone a long time, I’ve tried to be a good partner to your husband and sons and a good neighbor.”
“And you’ve succeeded on every count.”
He removed his hat. “I don’t want to do anybody different than I want to be done by God. I’m getting old, and my time’s drawing closer to standing before Him and giving an answer for how I’ve lived. I’m gonna ask for mercy, and that means I gotta give it. But I also got to protect what’s mine, Ellen.”
Her mouth went dry. “Have we done something wrong?”
“I woke during the night and found that my granddaughter was gone. While watching for her to return, I saw your son walking her home from the orchard. I want all contact with her stopped. Immediately.”
“What? But I thought …” Yesterday Ellen had made it clear to Aden that he and Annie had to put distance between themselves. After Annie had spoken privately with Aden while Ellen waited in the carriage, Annie returned visibly shaken. Ellen had foolishly assumed—or maybe just hoped—that they’d settled matters between them. Annie hadn’t returned to the restaurant since then, but clearly things were not over. “I … I didn’t know. I’ll speak to him.”
“It’ll take more than speaking to him. You and David have to put your foot down. Aden has to be made to understand—”
Ellen leaned in. “Just Aden? Was Annie not also in that orchard?”
Moses suddenly looked much like a deflated balloon. “I insisted her mother marry, and we all know how that turned out. Will I now have to be the one to insist my granddaughter not see someone she obviously cares about?” He rubbed his forehead. “Her mother can’t even tolerate talking to me on the phone. Annie is all I’ve got, and I don’t want to turn her against me, but I won’t have her reputation dragged through the mud like her mother’s was.”
Ellen wanted to assure him that Annie would never be so foolish as to allow her reputation to be ruined, but the words stuck in her throat. If word of her and Aden’s late night stroll got out, the damage would be unstoppable.
Moses nervously fiddled with his hat and stared at the floor. “If I have to intervene to keep them apart, I will.” He raised his eyes, looking torn between determination and grief. “But if I do step in, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them apart.”
Fear and offense twisted her insides, battling so strong she could hardly speak. “What are you saying, Moses?”
“You remind Aden of the connection I’ve had with this family for three generations, of all I did during the tragedy you faced five years ago. Then you tell him that no upstanding Mennonite will take a second glance at a girl who once saw an Amish man behind everyone’s back. Make him see this for what it is, Ellen.”
Tears welled, and she cleared her throat. “I’ll try.”
He started down the steps. Then he stopped and turned back. “I … I’ve got to tell you the rest.” He shifted. “I’m sorry for what I’m about to say. I am, but I’ve got to do what’s best for everyone, Annie most of all. If Aden refuses to listen despite your warnings, I’ll move, taking Annie with me so she can have a fresh start.”
“Moses, your land and your life are here.”
“Nothing is more important to me than Annie. Will I stay here because this is home and thereby allow my granddaughter to break her vow to God? Is your son not in the same position before the Almighty? If they break this vow, will they not easily break more vows as they go through life and then be in jeopardy of the gates of hell?”
He’d finally spoken his biggest fear—that Aden and Annie’s relationship would destroy the one between each of them and God. The church taught that a vow before God should never be broken. Maybe that was too strict. Maybe it wasn’t. Ellen had no way of knowing for sure, not this side of heaven. She’d been a fool not to see the full weight of things before now.
Moses put on his hat, but his shoulders remained slumped. “If I need to go so far as to leave Apple Ridge, I’ll close out my businesses.”
As veiled as his threat was, she heard him clearly. If Aden continued seeing his granddaughter, he’d leave with her, pulling his partnership from the restaurant in the process. Without a Mennonite as a business partner, they’d lose their right to have electricity supplied to the diner, and they’d have to shut the place down immediately, or the state would do it for them. If Aden continued seeing a Mennonite girl, no other Mennonite would ever partner with them.
Moses closed his eyes, shaking all over. “I don’t want to be this way. Surely you know that. But I will protect Annie at any cost.”
The back door opened, interrupting her thoughts. “Moses.” Roman glanced at Mamm. “It’s good to see you. Would you care to come inside?”
Moses shook his head, but Ellen knew what her son was doing. Roman had seen them through the window, maybe heard one or two things, and he’d come out to check on her.
“Ellen. Roman.” Moses nodded curtly to each of them. “Good day.”
Once back in the kitchen, Roman whirled his wheelchair around and glared up at his mother. “What was that about?”
“Nothing I want to talk about.”
“I heard him say Annie’s name. What’s going on?”
Ellen sat at the table and held her head with one hand. “Annie helped out at the diner while you were gone, and … it seems she and Aden took a liking to each other. I’ve been hoping it’d blow over, even thought they’d agreed not to see each other anymore. But it seems I was wrong.”
“I thought the family was going to help at the diner while I was gone.”
“We did.” She took the pie plates and forks off the table and headed to the sink. Her son was certainly not going to eat his slice now. “But Annie showed up to visit her Daadi, and she came over to be of some assistance to me. I invited her to help us—”
A loud crash made her jerk around. Shards of Roman’s cup were spread all over the counter and the floor. Splashes of coffee trickled down the walls. Ellen put the plates and forks on the counter.
She’d watched Roman struggle with frustration over his circumstances—he’d had a tempest brewing in his soul for five years. But she hadn’t expected it to be unleashed on her kitchen wall.
Ellen went to the walk-in pantry and grabbed a broom and a longhandled dustpan. “I think I have more than enough on me right now without you adding to it. So you clean it up, and don’t forget to wipe the walls down with a clean, wet rag.” She didn’t know how great a job he could do from his chair, but she wasn’t doing it for him.
Roman’s face was carved with anger, but he took the items from her and swept broken glass into the pan. “We can’t afford to make Moses angry. He could ruin everything for us.”
“Ya, he said as much just now.”
Roman gritted his teeth. “Aden can’t endanger the family’s livelihood over a girl. What i
s he thinking?”
Ellen understood Aden’s pull toward Annie. She had inner strength and was deeply kind. She had a wonderful sense of humor and was very industrious. Moreover, she drew out the very best of Aden. If she were Amish, she’d be the answer to Ellen’s prayers. In fact, she’d hoped Annie’s friendship with the Zooks would continue forever, even after Aden married and had a family of his own. Now that dream was shattered just like Roman’s mug. Broken beyond repair.
Roman continued maneuvering shards into the dustpan. “When I was at Uncle Ernie’s, working on that generator, I started to get back that feeling I used to have whenever I did something mechanical with my hands. I really believed I could fix that thing. Even thought maybe I could start doing machine repair for a living … if the family could manage the diner without me.”
His jaw tightened. “But I made matters worse for Ernie.” He turned to her. “And Aden was here, making things worse for this family. I was beating myself up over my incident, and it was an accident. There is no excuse for what Aden’s doing.”
Ellen laid a hand on her son’s stiff shoulder. “I’ll talk to him. It’s all we can do.”
“Oh, that may be all you’re willing to do. But if he doesn’t listen, I’ll do more than just talk.”
“Like what?” she challenged him, sounding cynical.
“I’m not sure, but I know we can’t let this situation with Aden and Annie continue.” Roman went to the window and studied the outside as if longing to step into a different world.
“You stay out of this, Roman. No sneaky, manipulative tricks. That will only make matters worse. He’s your brother. Pray for him. Be patient. And don’t do anything stupid.”
Aden sat at a table filled with people in Mattie’s parents’ home. The wedding ceremony was over, and the celebrations had begun. Guests chatted and joked throughout the big, formal meal of the day. Aden tried to stomach enough food so he didn’t draw attention to himself, but he didn’t really hear anything that was said.
When the mealtime was over, he took his glass of water with him as he searched for a place to hide. His mother had confronted him about Annie on Saturday night. Today was Tuesday, and her words continued to loop through his mind. But it was the depth of hurt and concern in her eyes and the trembling of her hands that haunted him the most—that and the threat that now hovered over his family. His whole family would pay, would be thrown into a poverty pit, if he and Annie didn’t go their separate ways.
He went to a quiet spot and stared out a window, wondering what Annie was doing today. He’d still gone to the orchard every night since Mamm had informed him of the ultimatum Moses had issued, but he hadn’t told Annie about it yet. He’d tried to talk about the seriousness of what they were doing. His plan was to ease into the fact that her grandfather knew and had hung a threat over his family. But she cut him off before he explained anything, saying she didn’t want to talk about it. Truth was, neither did he. Did raising the stakes really matter? They both knew what they were doing was wrong in the eyes of their churches. Maybe in the eyes of God.
Even if Mattie and Gideon could’ve invited her to the wedding, Aden wouldn’t have been able to do more than speak to her for a few minutes. Less than three or four, really. Anything more would have caused a ripple of people questioning their friendship.
They wouldn’t be the only ones. He had lots of questions himself. Why was this happening to them? How was he ever going to return to his usual life once she was gone? Her presence filled his life, and her absence would leave an awful void. Could they hang on to each other and muddle through everyone’s disapproval? Or would he ruin her life and his family’s livelihood by trying to find a way for them to be together?
If she had come today, she’d have felt the weight of being an outsider. Even though she had a passing acquaintance with Mattie’s and Gideon’s out-of-town wedding guests who’d come into the diner last week, she hardly knew any of the local Amish. Aden had attended church meetings and Amish gatherings his whole life, so he knew almost everyone … except a few of Mattie’s Amish friends from Ohio who had arrived last night.
Out in the yard a small group of girls about Annie’s age talked and laughed. The guests were milling about inside and outside while the helpers cleaned up after the noon meal. Soon the single girls would disappear into a room to prepare for the Amish tradition of the Choosing, where men chose partners for the wedding festivities of singing, passing around snacks, playing a few games, and sharing the evening meal. Custom called for the unmarried men, from eldest to youngest, to enter the room one at a time to make their choices.
If Annie were here, she wouldn’t be allowed to participate in the Amish Choosing. If there were a few single Mennonites here, they’d have their own Choosing. Otherwise, she’d be left out completely.
Throughout the ceremony Aden couldn’t keep from imagining himself and Annie in place of Gideon and Mattie. How had his friendship with Annie so quickly grown into desire for a lifetime with her?
An Amish girl bounded in through the door, flashing a quick smile at everyone before continuing into the living room. There were several single men here older than Aden, and he speculated what girls might be left by the time his turn came at the Choosing. He’d like it if no one was still available, but there were a lot of girls at this wedding. Most young women made their preferences clear by either looking up or glancing away when a man came into the room. Aden hoped to avoid the embarrassment of choosing from a group of girls who all looked away when he entered.
Annie saw past his inability to speak smoothly. She always had. And he believed in himself. He hoped that wasn’t prideful, but despite how others saw him, he sensed his value—he had a lot to offer if given the chance. It was there inside him, like a pouch of silver hidden in a rocky field, just waiting for the owner to need it enough to dig it out of the packed earth.
Even Roman, who knew him better than anyone, seemed to see Aden as less worthy. Maybe he always had. And until recently, Aden had accepted and tolerated his brother’s opinion.
He shifted, wishing he could sigh without being noticed. Several young women came in the front door and giggled as they made their way to the Choosing room. Though the coupling was only for the day, Aden had no desire to pretend to be interested in any of them.
A wedding partner didn’t need to do much. Just keep the chosen girl company throughout the day’s activities. If friends planned a wedding prank that required masculine assistance, he usually got roped into that as well. Aden didn’t mind helping with wedding pranks, all harmless fun. Last year some guests barricaded the bride and her friends in her parents’ home. The grin on the bride’s face when she finally escaped from the house and flew into her new husband’s arms was priceless.
“Aden.” The floorboards creaked under Roman’s wheelchair as he entered the room. “What are you doing standing off in a corner?”
He turned to face his brother. “H-hiding.”
He chuckled. “And hoping there won’t be any girls left when your turn comes?”
Aden returned his attention to the window. His brother knew him well.
Roman wheeled up beside him. “See that girl in the blue dress?” He pointed to a large oak in the yard where a petite brunette stood in the shade of the tree trunk, talking to a taller, slender blond.
Aden nodded.
“I want to choose her.”
Aden raised an eyebrow and shrugged, silently asking his brother why he wasn’t out there talking to her right now.
Roman stared at his legs. “I can’t take her anywhere by myself.” He looked up, a hint of hope in his eyes. “But if you chose her friend, we could all be together.”
“N-no way.” Aden peered at the petite girl’s friend. He couldn’t see her very well from this distance, especially in the shadow of the tree. But her appearance made no difference. She could be a troll, and she’d still be better off with anyone other than him. Stuttering aside, it wasn’t right to spend the da
y with a girl and be thinking about someone else the whole time.
“We can work together like we do at the diner. I’ll help you communicate, and you can help me get around. Come on, what do you say?”
Aden looked into Roman’s pleading eyes.
Mattie’s Daed clapped his hands. “Time for the Choosing.”
“Please,” Roman whispered.
Worse yet, if he agreed to this arrangement, it meant the four of them would take a carriage ride after the day’s events, like a double date. And that would keep them out past ten—the time he’d agreed to meet Annie at the orchard.
But his brother needed this. Desperately. Aden prayed Annie would understand why he couldn’t meet her tonight.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
Annie flung dried corn onto the ground as chickens clucked all around her, pecking in the loose dirt. This small brood was her grandfather’s personal laying hens. All she wanted was to get done with her chores and find a way to check on Aden. He’d never showed last night, and her fears for his safety were mounting by the minute. Rarely did a week pass without her reading about a horse-and-carriage wreck in the newspaper. She hadn’t slept all night and had grabbed the paper first thing. Nothing was listed.
Daadi Moses was somewhere on the egg farm, probably working harder than most men half his age, but lately he hadn’t wanted her help with those jobs, so she’d been keeping her distance. This morning he’d do well to stay out of her way. Despite her best efforts, she was much like a wet hen, ruffling her feathers every few minutes and slinging dirty water in every direction.
While waiting last night for Aden, she’d walked up from the creek to the top of the knoll dozens of times, looking for signs of him. She’d then returned to the orchard, thinking maybe he’d decided to walk from his place rather than come by carriage. She’d diligently watched for him, determined not to miss him no matter what part of the acreage he might be on. But he’d never showed.
The Scent of Cherry Blossoms: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country Page 8
