Roman wanted to, but he always fell so short he made himself sick. Aden’s way of handling the situation had left Annie with her family relationships and her reputation intact. She could attend church in New York or here or anywhere else, and people knew nothing about her times of secretly seeing Aden. The few people who were in the restaurant the day her grandfather made a scene thought she had a family emergency and he’d hired a driver to get her home fast. Aden’s action would allow her to move on and find a nice Mennonite man and have a family. The Zooks wouldn’t lose their diner.
Roman wanted that kind of love in his heart, and despite all the things he’d once had, he’d never had that. Never.
Aden crossed the kitchen and went out the back door.
Roman went after him but had to stop at the doorway. The rocky, washed-out path was not one he could navigate in a wheelchair. “Wait!”
Aden kept going without so much as a glance back at Roman.
“You can’t just leave me here!”
Mamm came running in from the dining area. “What is going on in here?”
“He’s thrown in the towel and left.”
She looked out the back door. “Aden Zook, you get back here right now,” Mamm called. “I need your help getting your brother into the rig.”
Roman stared after his brother. Aden had never left the diner without cleaning up, even if he was exhausted or had started running a fever. And he’d never left Roman stranded like this. “Don’t worry about it, Mamm. The delivery man will be here later on, and he’ll help me get in the rig.”
“What just happened in here?”
Roman stared up at his mother. “You know the whole time we were growing up, I had times when I thought I was better than him and he was the unlucky one—that’s what I thought. But that’s so far from the truth it’s scary. Did you know I thought that?”
“I suspected. Even before the accident, insight didn’t come easy for you any more than words come easy for Aden.”
“Do you think that’s why I’m in this contraption now?”
“Like a punishment?” She shook her head. “No, or the whole world would be in one of those. We think too highly of ourselves at some times and too little of ourselves at others. You used to focus on your good attributes and think you were really something. Right now, your biggest obstacle is that you focus only on what you don’t have rather than on what you do have. But I’m still praying that you open your heart to God and let Him help you see your life through faith.”
Did she see him through faith too? He feared seeing the disappointment in her eyes, so he wouldn’t ask that question. “Do you really think Moses would shut us down?”
“Ya, I do.”
The question of how she saw him nudged him. “If … you saw me through faith, what would that look like?”
“I see you that way every day. I pray, and I see you whole inside yourself, at peace with your brokenness, and strong enough to be who God called you to be.”
“What about Aden and Annie?”
She moved to the kitchen sink. “That’s different.” Her shoulders slumped. “Ya, it’s different,” she repeated. “Because it’s easier to picture this family through the eyes of faith as long as Moses doesn’t shut us down. As long as there’s no scandal within the church.” She turned to face him. “I mean we can handle everything else, right?”
“I’m confused. Was that sarcasm?”
She straightened her shoulders. “You know what you and I both need? Stronger faith. Somehow we have to rise above our fears … whatever that means.”
Roman knew one thing it meant: Mamm would be in the garden for the next five to six months, praying for hours while planting, weeding, and harvesting. He drew a deep breath, feeling strengthened by her honesty. “I think a mom like you deserves to have Mother’s Day a lot more than once a year.”
“Me too.” She sounded half sincere and half sarcastic.
Roman realized that he and his mom were a lot more alike than he’d noticed before, except she held on tight to her beliefs in God’s goodness, and he tended to shove God away scornfully. To think that so blatantly was scary. He supposed it was a good thing God was patient.
Aden shoved his clothes into a tote bag. Since Annie had returned to New York six weeks ago, every minute here in Apple Ridge was spent wishing things were different. He walked the orchard every night, hoping she’d return.
And fearing she would.
Aden pulled a stack of sketch pads out of the trunk and put them on top of his clothing in the leather tote bag.
The bedroom door opened, and Aden turned. Roman came partway into the room and stopped, studying Aden and his lone piece of luggage.
Aden went into the bathroom and loaded a small vinyl case with his toiletries. When he came back into the bedroom, he walked to his bed without a glance at Roman.
“Where …” Roman clenched the hand rims of his chair. “Where will you go?”
Aden shoved the small bag into the larger one. “Ernie’s.”
“You won’t be happy working on a farm.”
“I’m not l-looking to be happy.”
Roman stared at the bed. “I know you’re still mad at me, but I did what I did to keep from losing you as my helper. To try to hold on to my best friend.” Roman wheeled closer to his brother. “If I had to do it over again—our whole lives—I’d be a better brother. Forgive me?”
Aden sat on his bed, staring at the floor. “Ya.”
It wasn’t like the canyon between Aden and Annie was Roman’s fault. When it came to being decisive with Annie, Aden had drifted on floodwaters, hoping for the best but not trying to navigate them at all. “She’s b-better off this way.”
“That’s what you’ve always thought, isn’t it? I mean, it’s what kept you from ever writing to her or calling or going to see her at Moses’s when she’d come in from New York.”
“I never wanted anyone to g-get hurt, Annie m-most of all.”
“But over the years when she’d be here visiting and would come into the diner, I always saw that spark between you two. It used to worry me or make me mad.” Roman rested a hand on Aden’s knee. “Maybe I’m crazy for saying it, but you shouldn’t go to Ernie’s.” Roman rolled his chair back. “You should go to Annie.”
Aden couldn’t believe his ears. He expected Roman to console him about why keeping a distance was the only nondestructive way to go.
“Ya, Aden, don’t listen to me. What do I know? For that matter, what does Moses or Mamm or Daed know? Every one of us is wringing our hands and being selfish. If Annie feels the same way as you do, then together you will find a way to make things work, at least between the two of you.”
Aden shook his head. “You’re being ri-ri—”
“I’m not being ridiculous. Look, do you think this relationship is wrong?”
“N-no.”
“Your feelings for Annie aren’t borne from rebellion or sowing wild oats, right?”
Aden rolled his eyes. “No.”
Roman grinned. “I’m ready to do whatever I can to convince the family and the community to accept your relationship. And you know I have the gift of being able to talk just about anybody into just about anything.”
Aden hadn’t done right by Annie. She hadn’t wanted to talk about the realities facing them, and Aden hadn’t been willing to warn her of the storm that was brewing, and the whole time they were seeing each other, he wavered in where they were heading. Unsure if they’d ever find answers. And unwilling to stop seeing her.
He didn’t consider that behavior worthy of her. Aden stood. “I n-need to go.”
“You can do this.” Roman motioned to the bedroom door. “Go straighten this out. Build a life with her.”
“It’s d-done. I made sure of it.”
“Okay, so you’re unsure how you’d convince her of your love. I get that.” Roman went closer to the bed and grabbed Aden’s tote bag that lay open and pulled out several of the sketchbooks. Ade
n’s eyes widened in surprise. “Show Annie these. They are enough to convince the coldest of hearts.” He placed the sketch pads in Aden’s lap. “Trust me.”
Aden trudged through the woods, following the path to Moses’s house. He rehearsed in his mind the words he wanted to say, hoping he could at least get out a few of the sentences.
As he knocked on the front door, he focused on the opening lines he’d spent most of the day planning. But no one came to the door.
Was Moses on a delivery? It seemed unlikely on a Saturday at four o’clock.
Not about to give up, Aden searched the grounds and found Moses in one of the pastures out back. Aden strode that direction, still singing his introductory comments in his head.
When he neared Moses, the older man entered a chicken coop. Aden followed.
Moses dumped two scoops of feed into a plastic container. “You got something on your mind, boy?”
The hymn Aden had chosen to put his words to played in his mind, calming his soul. “I need to t-talk to you about Annie.” There. He’d done it. Said a complete sentence with only a single stutter.
Moses walked outside again, and so did Aden. Moses scattered handfuls of feed onto the ground, which the hens and roosters scrabbled over.
Aden waited, trying to gather his thoughts. He prayed.
Moses tossed the buckets inside and dusted his hands together. “You came by here two months ago, saying you were going to do right by her, which we both knew meant you’d end things. But you didn’t do that, did you?”
“I intended to, but I c-couldn’t.”
“I know this is tough. I really do. But here’s the way it is, Aden. I’m not interested in anything you have to say about Annie. You leave my granddaughter alone. Completely alone.”
The tap-tap-tapping of a woodpecker echoed from a nearby patch of woods. Aden tried to ignore the distracting sound. “I love her. And I’m willing t-to wait for her until you can accept this relationship, like you d-did with Esther.”
Moses blinked, apparently surprised Aden knew about that. “Is that so?”
“A-absolutely.” Aden needed Moses to understand that this wasn’t some heated passion that couldn’t be controlled. It was love—the kind that would sacrifice whatever was needed.
“You have no idea the kind of stress your relationship would put on both families.”
The woodpecker’s tapping began again. This time Aden used its cadence to keep time with the music he’d chosen to think about during this part of his speech. “And I’m s-sorry. It’ll be bad, and maybe Annie isn’t willing to go through that for us.”
“You two haven’t made plans behind my back?”
“N-no.”
“No strolling arm in arm, making out, or creating a bed out here in the orchard?”
“No sir.”
Moses sighed. “You sure don’t make it easy for a man to dislike you.”
The woodpecker’s drumming stopped. Moses started walking toward the house, and Aden walked with him. “She knelt before God and gave her word.”
“And I won’t ask her to br-break it.”
“You’ll join her faith?”
“N-not because I believe it’s more right. B-both groups are right on certain things and wrong on others.”
“Your family can’t run that restaurant without you. Just do everyone a favor and stay away from Annie.” He said it as if those last four words finalized the discussion.
“I c-can’t … unless that’s what she wants.”
Halfway up the steps of his home, Moses stopped. “I forbid you. Do you understand me, Aden Zook?”
“W-why?”
Moses went inside, snatched his Bible off the kitchen table, and waved it at Aden. “Because it’s wrong! It says not to be unequally yoked!”
Aden studied him, wondering if Moses really thought two Plain believers who’d grown up in a similar manner were unequally yoked. If he had Roman’s gift of speaking, he might stand a chance at reasoning with Moses. “I’m s-sorry you feel that way.” Aden went out the door he’d just entered. “Denki.”
Moses grabbed the door before Aden shut it. “After all I’ve done for your family, you’ll do this to me?”
“It’s n-not about you. Any of you.”
Moses’s eyes took on a faraway look, and Aden saw pain and confusion on his withered face. He ran his hand over the worn-out leather Bible before returning to the table.
Moses sat down, saying nothing as Aden continued to wait by the doorway. Moses buried his head in his hands. “I’m not saying I think you’re right, but trying to make people do what I think is right hasn’t worked either.”
Aden blinked. He knew Moses couldn’t give his permission outright for Aden and Annie to be together. But it sure sounded as if he was getting awfully close to accepting their relationship.
“You have integrity.” Moses got up and began fixing coffee. “Here’s my final word, Aden. You pray before you decide what to do about Annie. Talk to God. Be sure you take into account all that she will face. You do that, and I’ll not stand in your way, no matter what you decide or who chooses to join which faith.”
Aden’s heart raced like a wild bird set free of its cage. His lack of words seemed to have allowed Moses to talk until he found the answers Aden needed him to find.
Moses poured water into the coffee maker. “What kind of a man would threaten to remove food out of the mouths of a good woman, her children, and two injured men?”
Aden hoped Moses’s words meant he wouldn’t pull his partnership from the diner. Roman was wrong that the diner couldn’t be run without Aden. It’d need modifications, but Roman had capabilities he never used. Aden would miss the diner but not anything like he’d miss Annie. Other diners could be opened. They wouldn’t be a part of him like this one was, but that didn’t matter.
All that mattered was Annie … if she’d have him.
Annie let her little sister run a brush through her hair.
“You have the most beautiful blond hair of any of us,” Erla said.
“Denki. But the color of one’s hair doesn’t matter, my sweet, sweet Erla.” Annie tugged on her sister’s sleeve. “How about if we have a picnic in our beds after everyone goes home tonight?”
“Ach, Ich lieb sell.”
Annie grinned, enjoying her sister’s renewed effort to use Pennsylvania Dutch. “I’d love that too.”
To appease her mother—and to take a step toward finding some happiness—Annie had agreed to host a couples’ gathering in the hangout room above the carriage house. It was just an evening of friends with their dates. They’d play games and talk and eat snacks. Nothing big, but Mamm sure was happy that she’d agreed to it.
Leon would be her date again. He wasn’t nearly as boring as she’d once thought. His parents owned several older racing horses, and he’d offered to take her on a ride sometime. She’d always loved horses, and their thoroughbreds were stunning.
“Knock, knock.” Mamm tapped on the door while saying the words.
“Kumm rei.”
“You’re not ready?”
Annie had dawdled for too long, trying to put off the inevitable.
“It’s my fault,” Erla said.
Annie twisted her hair into a bun and slid hairpins into it. “I’m almost done.”
Her mother placed her prayer Kapp onto her head and pinned it into place. “I’ve made popcorn balls for you to take up to the hangout room.”
“Denki.”
The sounds of a carriage outside made her mother gasp. “Your first guest must be here.” She went to the window to look out. “Ya. It’s Leon. Go.” Her mother shooed her out the door. “Don’t forget the popcorn balls. I already took drinks and brownies up there.”
Annie winked at Erla. “You’ll wait up for me tonight?”
Erla nodded.
Annie hurried down the steps and greeted Leon. He helped her tote items up the steps to the carriage room, and within forty minutes they’d gree
ted numerous guests. The guys and girls sat around on the old furniture and beanbags, eating and talking.
Annie rocked back in a recliner, finally enjoying a reprieve from the weeks of heartache. Leon sat on a stool beside her. He reached behind him and grabbed a deck of cards. “Care to play a game of Dutch Blitz?”
“We’d need two decks if everyone wants to play.”
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out another pack. “After how much we loved our game the other night, you won’t find me without a deck in my pocket.”
She laughed. They had enjoyed their time, mostly because his sister was a jokester who kept harassing him the whole time. “Then I do care to play … and win.”
“That remains to be seen.” While everyone who wanted to play gathered around a huge table, Annie shuffled the cards.
A knock at the door barely registered as Annie dealt cards, turning all of Leon’s face up.
He frowned and shoved his cards in front of her and stole her stash.
“No!” Annie laughed and tried to grab her cards back.
“Annie,” a girl’s voice grabbed her attention.
“Ya?” When she looked up, she saw Aden holding a rather tattered cardboard box with a ribbon around it.
Her thoughts ran crazy, and she imagined tripping over her own feet or blurting out random questions. But she slowly stood. “Excuse me for a minute.” She passed the rest of the deck to Leon and went to Aden, gesturing for them to go outside. She stepped onto the landing and closed the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”
“I sent him up there,” Erla said. “Is it okay?”
She glanced at the bottom of the stairs. “Ya, Erla. Denki.”
Erla waved and headed back to the house.
Why was he in New York?
He held the box out to her. “I m-miss you. And I should have b-boldly told you all I was willing to do to k-keep you in my life.”
Annie’s heart caught in her throat. She untied the box and opened it. The porch light seemed to offer more shadows than light, but when she looked inside, she saw a stack of sketch pads in various shapes, colors, and sizes. She took out the top one and opened the cover.
The Scent of Cherry Blossoms: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country Page 13
