by Linda Byler
Quickly she took a step back, her mouth open in disbelief. “Stephen!” was all she could say.
“Hello, Lizzie. How are you?” Stephen said, his face thinner and somehow, much older.
“I’m, I’m doing okay. How about you? It’s been months since I’ve seen you.”
“Yeah.”
That was all he said. Lizzie glanced up nervously, not knowing exactly what to say to that. Did he mean it seemed like a long year and he was glad to see her again, or did he mean it was almost a year, but so what? Lizzie couldn’t tell. She looked at him again but he said nothing, just stood there with his hands in his pockets watching her face.
Lizzie looked down at the top of her soda can and toyed with the top. Say something. Say anything. Just make him stay here. She snapped at the small silver ring to open her can of soda.
Stephen laughed softly. “Here. Give me that. You never could open a can of soda the right way.”
Before she could protest, he reached down and took her soda. He opened it expertly and handed it back.
Her eyes met his as their fingers touched. His blue, blue eyes pierced her very mind, and this time there were no walls of resistance around Lizzie’s heart. She looked at him steadily, knowing that her eyes told him how much she had missed him, had thought about him, and that she was very, very glad he had returned.
Her gaze dropped, shyness overcoming her need to let him know that she was not the same Lizzie he had left. Laughing a bit shakily, she said, “How do you know I can’t open a can of soda?”
“Oh, I just remember. I remember how much you like fish sandwiches at Joe’s restaurant, and I remember the habit you have of chewing on a plastic straw after your Pepsi is finished. I remember our ride to Dan Lantzes in the pouring rain, when I couldn’t hold my horse and you were having a fit. I remember …”
They were startled by a resounding “Hey, Steve! Remember me?” A small dark-haired girl walked rapidly up to Stephen and shook his hand.
“Don’t you remember me? Miriam! The girl from Lamont. Surely you remember. Was it a year? It wasn’t that long, was it?” she asked.
She wedged herself firmly between them, and Lizzie backed away a few steps, watching closely as Stephen looked down and smiled, shaking his head and laughing when she said something much too quietly for Lizzie to hear.
Turning, Lizzie walked away blindly, furious to have been so rudely cut off from her conversation with Stephen. But he remembered all that! Sighing rapturously, she made her way over to Rebecca and Marvin who were sitting together at the wooden picnic table.
She sat down beside Marvin.
“Oh, my niecely! Here’s my niecely!” Marvin crowed.
Lizzie ground out between clenched teeth, “Who is she?”
Marvin raised his head, looking over the crowd of young people.
“Who?” he asked loudly.
“That little dark-haired girl who is talking to Stephen.”
Rebecca grinned and Marvin pointed at the new girl.
“You mean her? That one?” he said noisily, pointing with his forefinger.
“Shhh! Not so loud. She’ll hear you!” Lizzie hissed. “And stop pointing.”
“Oh, her. That’s … mmm … What’s her name? Miriam, I think. Stephen had a date with her one weekend when he was in Lamont with me.”
Lizzie’s eyes opened wide and she turned to face Marvin. “When was that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A year ago?”
“Why didn’t I know about it?”
Marvin lowered his head, looking straight into Lizzie’s eyes. “He can date whoever he wants to, Lizzie. You never wanted him.”
“But … but …” Lizzie floundered.
“But, what?” Marvin said, clearly enjoying Lizzie’s lack of composure.
Lizzie shook her head, cupping her chin in her hands as her gaze wandered over to Stephen who was bent down and talking to the dark-haired girl, clearly enjoying the way she animated her sentences with her hands. Her laughter reverberated through the lantern-lit darkness, and Lizzie snorted, getting up quite suddenly.
“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked.
“Nowhere.”
“You want me to go along?”
“No.”
Lizzie stalked off into the soft darkness, away from the light of the gas lanterns and Stephen and the new girl.
Little flirt! She has the nerve. Biting down hard on her thumbnail, she kept walking across the newly mown hay field. So this was how it would end. Despair washed over her in long, drowning waves as she remembered Amos.
She was just unlucky in love, that was all there was to it. She was most likely cursed, like God cursed the different tribes of Israel in the Old Testament when they did wrong. She tried very hard to think of some major sin in her life, like stealing, hating someone, lying, but there was no huge thing she could think of that would cause the curse. Perhaps she shouldn’t even try to think of such an unfortunate thing. Maybe all of this was to teach her patience, or maybe oh, horrible thought—maybe Stephen was not God’s will for her life. How in the world were you supposed to know?
She had thought in the past months that maybe, just maybe, thinking about Stephen so much meant that she might be falling in love. She never told a single soul, not Mandy or Mam, not even Emma. No one. Then when she was so nervous about choosing the right dress, she was almost 100 percent certain that Stephen was the one. Then, finally, she had let her barrier of resistance down, trying to convey her feelings like some bold … Oh, my. She lifted cold hands to her flaming face, hating herself and her jittery nerves until she could barely breathe.
Stopping, she listened. Were there footsteps behind her? She froze, both hands covering her mouth, as solid footsteps followed her in the darkness. “Wait! Lizzie, wait up.”
Stephen!
She remained frozen, her feet rooted to the ground as her strength left her body. Blood pounded in her ears, and she was seriously afraid her knees would no longer support her, that she might crumple to the ground.
Her breath left in one soft whoosh of sound as she felt Stephen’s hands on her shoulders. She shrugged them off, wanting to run away faster than she had ever run, yet wanting to stay here close to him.
“Where are you going?”
She could not answer because of the huge lump in her throat. Tears pricked her eyelashes as she fought down the strong desire to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him how she felt, how different things were now, how grown up and mature and attractive he was. Suddenly he seemed so different now, but just as she finally came to this conclusion, here was Miriam, a small, pretty girl, appearing like a bad dream from the past.
Stephen turned her around to face him. His hands fell to his sides and his fists clenched as he stepped away from her. “Why did you run away?”
Lizzie lifted her chin. “I just needed to go for a walk. I have a headache,” she said.
“Oh, well. I was afraid it had something to do with Miriam talking to me.” He laughed a low laugh of derision. “I … I mean, I probably couldn’t be so lucky that it would even matter to you whether Miriam talked to me or not.”
Lizzie didn’t know what he was talking about. She was too unstrung to understand him. Suddenly, she could no longer remain standing and she sank to the ground, her knees quite seriously refusing to hold her.
Instantly Stephen was beside her, reaching out to help her up.
“No,” Lizzie said in a tiny voice laced with tears. “Let’s just sit here awhile.”
Watching her closely, Stephen sat down slowly on the grass beside her, staying a polite distance away from her.
Sighing, Lizzie watched the night sky as she struggled to dissolve her feelings of despair and regain control of her swirling thoughts and emotions.
Stephen didn’t say anything. Lizzie remained quiet, too, listening to the night sounds. A dog barked hysterically somewhere in the distance as the youth group shouted and laughed as they returned to their volleyba
ll game.
“Do stars blink?” Lizzie asked suddenly.
“I guess. I don’t know. It looks as if they do,” Stephen answered.
There was an awkward silence as Lizzie battled with her pride and her new feelings for Stephen. Quite suddenly she blurted out, “Who is Miriam?”
“Miriam? That short girl? Someone I know from Lamont.”
“Do you like her? Marvin said you had a date with her.”
Stephen went completely still. He did not move a muscle, until Lizzie felt quite sick in the pit of her stomach. Here it came. Now he’d tell her what he followed her to tell her. He loves Miriam. And sorry about that look you just gave me over that can of soda, but you waited too long, Lizzie, he would say. My heart belongs to Miriam. You’ll find someone else.
Then he turned his head, his hair lifting on the soft night breeze. He ran a hand through his bangs, shook his head as if to clear his sight, and said, “Look at me, Lizzie.”
“Just tell me,” Lizzie whispered, a sob catching in her throat.
“All right. I will. I’ll tell you everything. Maybe I’m just stupid enough to tell you because I’m feeling bolder right now since you seem to care whether I like Miriam or not. But you know how it has always been since the first time I saw you. There was never anyone else in my heart. Never.”
“Until Miriam,” Lizzie finished miserably.
“No.”
“What?”
“No. She means nothing to me.”
And then Stephen started talking. The flow of his words rippled and swirled around Lizzie’s heart like a myriad butterflies flitting from one heaven-sent spring flower to the next. She listened quietly as he told her things he had kept in his heart for years, his memories of her which kept him at his uncle’s farm in northern Pennsylvania because he knew she needed time and space to decide what she wanted. He loved the way she threw a baseball with her left hand, he loved the way she drove his horse and waded in the creek and ate stick pretzels two by two.
Lizzie threw back her head and let all the happiness escape in one long sigh that turned into smiles, and then into a mix of tears and laughter.
“Yes, Stephen, you were right. I needed time. I was blind for so long. I think I’m finally beginning to see how I am. I mean, that may sound like I’m a bit full of myself, but I truly think some young people are born with a nature that makes them want what they can’t have, and not want what they can have. Or, in other words, I may as well admit it, maybe I’ve been resisting God’s will. That’s the way Mam puts it.”
“Lizzie, does that mean that … Well, does this conversation really mean anything to you? I mean, do you even care about the things I said?”
Slowly, Lizzie nodded her head up and down. “Yes, Stephen. It means everything to me. I thought about you constantly these past couple of months, and now that you’re here, you certainly seem older and more … more …”
“Does this mean that …?” Stephen stopped suddenly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
They sat awhile in silence, Lizzie feeling a bit self-conscious as she plucked aimlessly at the grass in the hay field. Quite unexpectedly, Lizzie jumped to her feet. “Let’s go back, okay?”
Stephen sighed and then slowly stood up. They started walking back to the volleyball game, their steps becoming slower and slower. They said nothing until Lizzie laughed a low, happy sound.
“We’re not exactly in a hurry to get back to the volleyball game,” she said softly.
Stephen reached for her hand, holding it tightly in his own as he turned toward her and said, “Lizzie, I’ve thought of doing this so many times, that I’m not sure it’s real. But … may I … can I pick you up Sunday afternoon?”
Lizzie smiled a small smile to herself. “You mean for a real date?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Stephen, of course. Yes, you may.”
Feeling very shy, Lizzie continued walking with Stephen beside her, her hand securely held in his. It was a moment she would never forget, the feeling of having committed herself to a relationship, unsure of what the outcome would be. It was a shaky, scary, exhilarating feeling, and yet at exactly the same time she knew without a doubt, just like Mandy said, she just knew it was right. She would have to ask God over and over probably just to be positive, but so far, it seemed very, very good.
Chapter 14
THERE WAS NO USE trying to hide anything from her family the following morning. She was the first one down the stairs, smiling widely the minute Mam turned from the stove to say, Good morning.
Lizzie thought she would suddenly burst apart if someone didn’t mention her broad smile. She smiled with all her teeth showing, fairly dancing between the stove and the breakfast table. Mam was preoccupied and didn’t say anything more. Lizzie cleared her throat, intending to tell Mam about her upcoming date with Stephen if she didn’t notice soon.
The door burst open and Mandy hurried into the kitchen, quickly washing her hands at the small sink by the door.
“Hey, Lizzie, you and Stephen must have gone on quite a walk. What’s going on? Come on, you have to tell me.”
Turning, Mandy’s eyes teasing, she dried her hands on the fluffy blue towel hanging on the side of the cupboard.
Lizzie took a deep breath, leaned against the counter, and adjusted her bib apron. Straightening her shoulders, she said clearly and slowly, savoring every minute of her important announcement, “I have a date with Stephen.”
Mandy squealed and Mam stared, open-mouthed.
“I knew it!” Mandy shouted, throwing the towel up against the ceiling. “I just knew it! You know why? Stephen was talking to John for awhile after the game. He was probably making plans to do something with us!”
“Well, congratulations, Lizzie,” Mam said quietly and almost reverently. “I’ve always felt right about you and Stephen.”
Lizzie beamed at Mam, basking in her words of praise and acceptance. This all felt so very right and good, so she just continued smiling and laughing as she helped Mam with breakfast, chattering happily with Mandy about their upcoming weekend.
The door to the back porch opened as usual as Dat and Jason came in to hang their hats on the hooks against the wall.
Suddenly there was a loud banging sound, and Dat’s frustrated voice saying, “Whoa! What is going on here?”
“Are you all right?” Jason asked.
Quickly, Mam moved toward the back porch. She met Dat halfway, her eyes full of concern.
“What? What happened, Melvin?”
Dat came through the door, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I stumbled across the doorstep,” he said. “My legs both feel tingly, almost as if they are numb.”
“Have you felt like that for very long?” Mam asked, hurrying toward him.
He sat heavily in a chair at the table, lifting one foot gingerly and flexing it.
“My feet felt that way for a few weeks, but I didn’t think it was necessary to become anxious or concerned. I thought it would disappear after awhile as it had before.”
Lizzie stood against the counter, her arms crossed tightly in front of her. The joy of her morning was fading away, replaced by heartbreaking pity as she saw bewilderment on Dat’s face as he shook his head. She was sure now that there was something seriously wrong with him. There just had to be.
He had gone to the optometrist several weeks ago to have his eyes thoroughly examined and then the prescription of his lenses changed. But still he complained about days of foggy vision and a complete blind spot in his left eye. Mam said he would just have to learn to live with his failing eyesight because the doctor had said he seemed healthy otherwise. But now this.
Lizzie turned toward the kitchen window, staring blindly out to the horse barn. Dat had to stay healthy. He had to. Everything depended on his health and well-being to keep the farm running smoothly, the shiny, stainless steel tank filled with milk, the milk check coming in the mail to pay the mortgage
payment and the accumulated bills. How in the world would they ever go on farming if he was unable to work?
She caught her lower lip and bit down hard, physically trying to keep back the panic she felt creeping up on her. We’ll just be horribly poor with Dat not being able to work. There will be nothing in the house to eat. Mandy’s paycheck and mine will have to go toward the mortgage payment. Mam will have to get a job. Did the church help people if their father couldn’t work? What about her first date with Stephen? He probably wouldn’t want to be married to someone as poor as she would be.
She could not let the wolves come any closer, tightening the panicky feeling in her chest. Turning, she shook her head as if to clear away the fear and faced Dat squarely.
“Dat, what … what do you really think is going on here?” she asked.
Mam and Mandy shared a knowing look, realizing how hard it was for Lizzie to calmly accept a situation like this.
Dat looked into Lizzie’s eyes, and she read the fear in his. No, Dat, not you. You can’t be afraid. You’re Dat. You are the one who makes everything right for us so that we don’t have to be afraid. She felt almost angry at Dat for being frightened.
“You have to do something, Dat!” she burst out.
“Lizzie,” Mam said calmly.
They all looked at Mam.
“I think there really is something wrong other than a passing ailment,” she said. “Chiropractic treatments have done nothing to correct the numbness in Dat’s feet or help his feelings of exhaustion.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Lizzie asked.
“We kept a lot of his symptoms quiet because we didn’t want to frighten everyone,” Mam said. “We’ll go see the family doctor as soon as I can make an appointment, and he’ll very likely refer us to someone who can do further examinations. We really need to find out what is going on,” she concluded.
