Gathering the Threads

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Gathering the Threads Page 22

by Cindy Woodsmall


  “Ariana!” Daed continued to run, his face hopeful. “Bischt du allrecht?” he yelled, frost forming as he spoke. “Bischt du allrecht?” His hat flew off, but he took no notice of it.

  “Daed, I’m gut.” She hoped her words would slow him, but his face reddened as he hurried toward her.

  His breathless body engulfed her. “Bischt du allrecht?” he asked again, holding her tight.

  “Ya, I’m gut. I’m gut, Daed.”

  He laughed. “Ya?” He backed away and gasped. “You were in an accident.”

  “Ya. I was.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ariana.” He cupped her shoulders with his hands. “It won’t be like it was. We’ll talk. We’ll reason together, and I’ll hear you. Okay?”

  Was she really here, and was Daed actually saying that? Or was she somewhere else and unconscious from the accident and dreaming it? “You’ll hear me?”

  He cupped his ear. “Eh?” He laughed, eyes twinkling with joy. “Ya, ya, I’ll listen.”

  “Sell iss wunderbaar, Daed.”

  He patted her shoulders, beaming. “Wonderful. That’s right.” He hugged her gently. “I will not let the church come between me and you,” he whispered. “I won’t.”

  Her heart pounded as she rested her head on his chest. “Ach, Daed, Ich lieb du.”

  “I love you too, honey.”

  Mamm arrived out of breath. She took one glance at Ariana’s face. “Ach, my girl.” She hugged her tight, sobbing.

  “I’m gut, Mamm.” She pulled away and clutched Mamm’s hands. “I am.”

  Mamm nodded.

  Ariana looked behind her, and Nicholas was still there, his hazard lights on as the three of them stood in the road.

  She longed to invite him to stay, and he looked as if he wasn’t ready to go, but they waved, and he drove off.

  Skylar plunged her hands into the soapy dishwater for what had to be the fiftieth time that evening, but scrubbing dishes or clothes or countertops either here or at the café did nothing to cleanse her conscience. She washed another cup, rinsed the bubbles from it, and set it on the rack. Ariana continuously dried the dishes and put them away. She had volunteered to wash the dishes from dinner, but before Skylar could stop herself, she had offered to do them herself.

  Guilt was an unruly beast.

  She had to do it. She had to come clean to Ariana. Confiding in Jax wasn’t the same. It didn’t offer solace to the one person who deserved it. On the other hand, clearly Ariana and her Daed had been getting along much better lately. Still…Just do it. Rip the Band-Aid off.

  “Ariana.” Second thoughts about confessing hit hard, and she longed to say something on a totally different topic. Maybe mention how quickly the bruises on her face were healing.

  “Hmm?” Ariana stacked plates in the cabinet.

  “Man, this is hard. And it shouldn’t be, because you already know I’m not the most moral person.” Skylar dried her hands on a dishtowel hanging on a rack, took a deep breath, and faced Ariana directly.

  The blond young woman resembled Mom in so many ways, even in some of her mannerisms and gestures and definitely that kind-but-determined, dig-her-heels-in way. Concern flickered through Ariana’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…” Spit it out, Skylar. “I took your cell phone out of the suitcase and put it on the bathroom floor, knowing your folks would find it and you would be in trouble. I’m so sorry.” She rested her gaze on the wood floor, afraid to see the hurt that would be in Ariana’s eyes.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought it would knock you down a few notches in everyone’s eyes and make me look better. I didn’t understand a thing about your family. Our family. I didn’t understand the consequences.” She looked up, braving a glance at Ariana’s face. But instead of finding pain, anger, or condemnation, she was greeted by an expression of softness.

  “I knew right away that you weren’t comfortable with me being back. I’d hoped you would come around, and I’d hoped to move in with Berta.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “And I forgive you.”

  It was as if someone had slapped Skylar on the back really hard. “What?” She coughed. “Just like that? With all the trouble I caused you? Don’t you want to yell at me?”

  “A little, but mostly no.” Ariana shrugged.

  “Geez, the cultural divide still baffles me at times. Normal American family members would yell and argue, maybe for hours or days, over a confession like this. And I deserve it.”

  Ariana shook her head. “The falling out was going to happen. You just made it happen sooner and for a different reason.” She sighed and looked out the kitchen window above the sink. “I didn’t want my time in the world to change me, but it did. I came back too different, and Daed didn’t know what to do with it. But I’m curious. Are you sorry you were raised by Brandi and, to whatever degree Nicholas was involved, him too?”

  It seemed all the oxygen in the room was suddenly gone, and Skylar couldn’t catch her breath. She wanted to scream yes! But that wouldn’t be honest. It would be her lashing out, because believing Mom and Dad were the problem came naturally. She’d behaved like a brat most of her life, but her mom—or rather Brandi—loved her like Lovina loved Ariana. Maybe Nicholas loved her the way Isaac loved Ariana. The love was real even if the demonstration of it needed a lot of improvement.

  Still, Skylar had been allowed to pursue her love of drama and music. Rather than repressing or refusing those desires, which would’ve happened if she’d lived in this house, the parents she called Mom and Dad had encouraged her and paid for more than a decade of acting and music lessons. Had come to her performances. Had helped her practice for auditions so she had the best chance of getting a part.

  Skylar lifted her eyes. “I…I’m actually glad I was raised by your mom and dad. But the truth is, I needed my real parents too. Seems as if they swooped in at the right time. Maybe saved my life, definitely changed the course of it. Living here, despite the overbearing strictness, it’s hard not to learn what real love is.” Skylar gripped the kitchen towel on each end and gave it slack and then tugged, over and over again. “Mom loved me like that too, but I ruined those feelings by holding on to hurt and anger with Dad. He ignored me when I was young. Then when he did start coming around, he undermined Mom, and I took advantage of it. On my sixteenth birthday, he took me out, had too much to drink, and told me he was married to someone else when I was con—” What was she telling Ariana?

  Ariana got a glass and filled it with tap water. “I know how I was conceived.” She took a few sips of the water. “And I didn’t react well to that news.”

  “It’s hard, isn’t it? It’s like Dad was saying, ‘I don’t really like you, and here’s why.’ ”

  “He didn’t intend to hurt us. He’s outspoken, so suppressing the truth may have been impossible for him. But he has regrets. A lot of them. In some ways I needed time with him and Mom like you did with Mamm and Daed.” Ariana set her glass on the counter and took Skylar by the shoulders. “We’re going to be okay. Now you have to forgive yourself. That’s probably much harder than coming clean to me.” Ariana lowered her hands.

  “I’m indulgent, at least that’s what a middle school teacher told Mom, and it fit. If I wanted something, I was going to get my way or make others pay. Mom tried to talk to me about that character flaw, but I whined that the teacher just didn’t like me.”

  “Basically in this world-swapping thing we had to do, we discovered that Nicholas and Brandi were more right than you thought, and Mamm and Daed were more wrong than I thought.”

  Skylar laughed. “Seems like it.”

  “Can I give you a hug?” Ariana offered her arms.

  Skylar stepped forward and embraced her sister-by-circumstance. Heavy weights lifted off her shoulders. “Thank you.”

  Ariana squeezed. “Gern gschehne.”

  “Did you just tell me to go milk cows or something?”

  Ariana
giggled and released her.

  They made short work of the remaining kitchen duties.

  “You know what surprises me the most about the Amish?” Skylar rinsed suds down the drain. “I keep expecting there to be these huge gaps between what I know, with my education and experience, and the Amish, who grew up with limited education and limited experiences. But the gap just isn’t there. People’s ability to understand and navigate their own minds and emotions are the same either way. Neither side is better at it than the other—just different.”

  Ariana looked amused. “Spoken like a true college-educated girl.”

  “As if you returned speaking Plain like your family.”

  “Our dad.” Ariana mocked total frustration, sighing and rolling her eyes. “Vocabulary lists and mandatory studying on every possible topic.”

  Skylar laughed. “Tell me about it. Forget this our stuff. Your dad is so stubborn.”

  “Oh, and your Daed isn’t?” Ariana mocked. “And we never push any boundaries that are problematic for them, so what’s the deal?”

  “Parents.” Skylar sighed before she rinsed a washrag and began wiping the counters. But she liked how Ariana helped put things in perspective. She was good at compartmentalizing. Skylar tended to resent the whole person if she had reason to resent anything about them. Ariana’s viewpoint was definitely healthier, and maybe it was time Skylar called her parents. “Has the trouble between you and the ministers died down?”

  She shrugged. “Some. A lot of people believe the exaggerated, gossipy tales of my sins, and that’s not going away anytime soon. But it’s calm enough that I can ignore it and go about my life.”

  “You’re just a little weird. You know that, right?”

  “That’s what you and Cameron tell me. Personally, I don’t see it.”

  “You talk about the gossip as if it’s a given and you don’t care.”

  “I care, just not enough to rearrange my life in order to stop it.”

  “Mom’s like that, except if people crossed a line—you know, about her lifestyle—she’d unload until their opinion was dust in the wind.”

  “Ya, I saw some of that. I thought she was going to end Nicholas in my first forty-eight hours of being there. I’d never seen a woman scream at a man like that. She got in his face, going toe to toe and yelling.” Ariana laughed softly. “And Gabe remained observant and thoughtful, trying to calm her.”

  As Ariana’s easygoing forgiveness filled Skylar’s mind and heart, she longed to reach out with that type of kindness to those much more deserving of it than she was.

  “Mom wasn’t the only good parent. Gabe has been a good stepdad,” Skylar said. “Cameron and I would fight like cats and dogs, and he was a ‘peacemaking funmaker,’ as Cam and I used to call him. Having a fight? Let’s make ice cream!” She laughed.

  Skylar regretted taking their love—Mom’s, Dad’s, Gabe’s, and even Cameron’s—for granted. Selfish or shortsighted people did that, and she didn’t want to fall into either of those categories.

  Ariana moved the soaking cookware to the sink. “Speaking of Cameron…you should call her sometime. Extend an olive branch.”

  “She’d take it and beat me with it.”

  Ariana shrugged. “So take the beating and then hold it out again.”

  “Who would do that?”

  “A big sister who knows she was wrong too, maybe more wrong than she’s been willing to admit.”

  Skylar liked to believe the issues between Cameron and her were Cameron’s fault, but it was time to be realistic. She didn’t remember doing Cameron wrong. Based on Skylar’s memory, Cameron sabotaged her willfully and purposefully. But even if that was true, would Skylar hold a grudge about it for the rest of her life?

  “Honestly”—and for some weird reason Skylar longed to be very frank with herself—“I need to call all three parents and Cameron. Could I borrow your cell phone rather than walk to the phone shanty or the gas station?”

  “Sure. It’s recharging in the cooperage at Berta's. Tomorrow?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You go, Skylar. I’ll finish up.”

  “You don’t have to offer twice.” Contentment hummed a tune inside Skylar, making her feel as she did after getting through a difficult college exam. She walked into the living room and picked up her novel from the lower ledge of the coffee table. It was a “clean,” Christian novel, borrowed from Susie, and not something she could have imagined herself reading a year ago. She hadn’t expected to enjoy the book but was surprised by its likable characters and a plot line that twisted when least expected. She flipped to the page she had dog-eared and sat by the fire, leaning sideways in the recliner and crossing her legs at the ankles.

  After she was a few pages further into the story, she noticed Isaac joining her near the hearth on the adjacent couch. She glanced up to see him open his own book. She smiled and gave him a little nod. They both sat in silence, save the crackling of the fire, for several minutes. This was another one of those things that Skylar knew the Amish had right: time to sit and read without the pull of technology and overscheduled lives.

  Ariana walked through the living room, chuckling softly.

  Skylar lowered her book. “What?”

  Ariana pointed from Skylar to Isaac. “You both were sitting in the exact same position with your ankles crossed while reading your books, with the exact same look of concentration on your faces. Maybe it’s genetic.”

  Isaac studied Skylar, nodding as Ariana smiled and continued on her way.

  He put his book down and turned to Skylar. “I couldn’t have overheard you if I’d tried, and I wasn’t trying, but I saw you and Ariana hugging in the kitchen.” He smiled. “Can’t tell you how that does my heart good, Skylar. In fact, you seem a bit different lately. You’ve gained a peace, ya?”

  Skylar nodded, thinking about what she wanted to share with this man. He had times of being open and supportive with his family and times of being inflexible and rigid. Right now, in the living room, sitting by the fire with him, she almost felt as if their relationship went as far back as her first memories.

  Isaac sat more upright and leaned in. “Does it have to do with Jax?”

  “Yes, but not in the way you probably mean it.” Skylar fidgeted with the pages of the book. Maybe one day she would have her life together enough to be able to have a functional romantic relationship, and maybe Jax would be interested, but she wasn’t ready. “I think I know what I want to do with my life.”

  Isaac looked a little surprised. “And what is that?”

  Skylar wanted to be honest and yet gracious. It seemed to be a Brenneman trademark. “I hope it’s not too big of a disappointment to you, but I can’t be Amish. If I had been raised in your community, maybe I would feel differently.”

  “I know.” Isaac nodded slowly.

  “I can’t stay living Plain, not with the plans I have. I need to study music, and since instruments aren’t allowed, it wouldn’t be a good influence for my nieces and nephews.”

  She’d felt sorry for them when she first moved in here, but this life had so much to offer that couldn’t be easily seen. Perhaps some of her nieces and nephews, many of whom weren’t yet born, wouldn’t end up staying Amish when they were adults, but she did not want to be the cause of them pulling away. What had looking into the eyes of those homeless children and their parents done to her? The children just wanted to be loved and to give love, but the parents looked so weary, and their eyes held grief and a sense of powerlessness that had broken Skylar’s hardened shell.

  “But I don’t want to lose my connection to you all either.”

  “Good.” He looked relieved and unsure. “Your Mamm and I have been hoping you’d feel that way. I was concerned I’d blown that by showing how difficult I can be at times.”

  “Parents.” Skylar huffed, smiling at him. “What can I say? You guys try. I can definitely say that.”

  Isaac grinned. “Thank you. Do you have a plan?”


  “Maybe. Something stirred in me when I went to the charity event with Jax last month. I realized I’m not the only person who matters, and what I considered an unfair shake was actually quite fair. I want to help others who are in the thick of a truly difficult childhood, and apparently I have a knack for it.” She couldn’t explain all that had happened to her that day with the homeless families, but she saw everything differently now.

  “This sounds good.” Isaac tapped the book against his leg. “Really good.”

  “Yeah. I think so too. On Valentine’s Day I worked with children, leading them to perform some simple songs for their parents. We practiced a little bit before they performed, and I connected with them in a way I didn’t know was possible, encouraging them and using humor to motivate them not to be nervous. After the performance several of them hugged me and thanked me. These kids have zero resources to get their parents anything for a holiday like Valentine’s Day, not even a card. But I helped them give the gift of music.” Deep emotions stirred at the memory.

  “Interesting. I think I finally understand a little better why Valentine’s Day and days like it matter so much to people.”

  “Me too,” Skylar confessed. “I want to go back to school and become a music teacher. I’m not exactly sure where I want to teach or at what level, but I want to help children like that all the time, not just at special events.”

  Isaac nodded, and she hoped it was an approving gesture, not just an admission that he was hearing her.

  “I’ll need to take out some student loans, but I could start this May. I’d do the Maymester and summer semesters. I’d need to change my major, which was music, to education with a minor in music. I’ll probably lose a lot of credits if I change schools, but…”

  “Ya? I’m sort of lost on most of what you just said. But where will you go to school?”

  “I was thinking of applying to Shippensburg University.”

  “The school’s not more than fifteen miles from here.”

 

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