He took the glass. “Just remember, emotions are like circumstances.” He took a sip of the drink. “We can and should do our best to live in a way that doesn’t wreak havoc on either, but when tough times hit, and they will, our foundation isn’t built on how we feel. We have to keep moving forward in as many positive ways as possible, regardless of circumstances and emotions.”
In one fluid movement Skylar rose, put her hands on the armrest of Isaac’s chair, and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a smart man.” With her thumb she wiped the spot she’d kissed. “But you’re messing with my excitement.”
With one exception, Lovina and Isaac’s children—oldest to the youngest—were faring well, and she was thrilled to see it. She and Isaac were doing really well too. It was amazing what it did to the soul to set aside worry over their children not following the Ordnung closely enough and to use all that energy to simply love and trust God.
But Ariana…Her sweet girl still had times of being steeped in grief. She went through her days looking and responding as if she were happy, but Lovina could tell by Ariana’s eyes when she was having a bad day or week.
Still, her girl had faith in the value of her work and faith that God would see her through whatever was before her. Ariana was determined to be peaceful and productive.
“Any way you’d be okay with music being a part of the party?” Skylar clasped her hands together, looking as if she was begging. “I’ll keep it clean and respectful, but what’s a party without music?”
“Can we think on it?”
The noise of the café rang loudly in Ariana’s ears. Between the music and the number of people, it was a very busy place. Pizza had been eaten. Cake had been served. The event was winding down, but it would carry warm memories for the rest of her life.
Twenty-one years old.
Maybe that part wasn’t as important as the fact that everyone had survived this past year and was better for it. Her phone buzzed. She hoped it would be Quill assuring her everything had gone fine with his latest rescue. She’d expected to hear from him a few hours ago. He’d left yesterday to help a thirty-something widow with a ten-year-old son. Out of the blue, some man had been stalking her, and she hadn’t been able to shake him.
Between the busyness of Schlabach Home Builders and his willingness to help women and children out of dangerous situations, she hadn’t seen him in three weeks, but they texted regularly. Actually, Quill, Frieda, and she texted all the time, often with all three included in the messages. She’d received birthday wishes from Frieda on Wednesday, her actual birthday.
Ariana went to the far end of the counter so she could discreetly check her phone. Her screen exploded with colorful balloons and streamers. Then letters appeared on the screen, one by one, looking as if he was handwriting them.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
She laughed, and her fingers flew across the screen.
Thank you! Don’t know how to be fancy with texts, but here you go.
Hahaha. That’ll do. I wish I could be there! Are you drinking now that you’re 21, or did you get that out of your system during our one night at that bar?
She thought a moment about that strange night last October. She’d been really upset that night at the bar. Now they joked about it. She had a grin on her face as she wrote.
Very funny. It’s MY birthday! Be nice.
He sent a GIF of an adorable kitten up close and shaking its head really fast, as if it was saying no.
Apparently I need lessons on how to up my texting game.
Apparently so. Too bad you don’t know anyone who’d be willing to show you some tips and tricks.
He’d turned twenty-six a few days ago. The Schlabach siblings and spouses had an annual birthday celebration each May. Since the ban against the Schlabachs visiting their Mamm hadn’t lifted until the end of July, Berta didn’t get to be a part of that again this year. So everyone came in on Quill’s birthday, just for this one time. They would return to having only annual parties next May, with the exception that they would have them at Berta’s. Ariana had stayed for Quill’s party, and it’d been a treat to see Berta surrounded by her family, with grandchildren hanging all over her.
On your birthday next year, I will hide behind texts and be mean.
Okay. I’d like to see that. I think hiding behind these tiny letters or even a cell phone would be really hard, but probably the hardest part for you is BEING MEAN.
We’ll see, won’t we?
You’ll see. I already know the answer.
Oh, did you know your Mamm is here?
Me, being good now. Don’t tattle on me.
She cackled, but what retort could she give? It seemed that Quill had stopped putting distance between them, and their camaraderie reminded her of the fun, carefree days before his Daed died and Quill started keeping secrets from her so he could get Frieda safely out of Summer Grove.
“Mom, Dad, Gabe.” Skylar’s voice poured through the speaker system. “I know we’ve talked about everything, and we’re in a great place, but I left Bellflower Creek a wreck, and I wanted everyone in this room to know that wasn’t your fault. It was mine. My choices. My anger with you that life wasn’t easier.” She moved to the keyboard. “So this song is for you.” Her hands moved across the keys. “It’s a song by Chicago called ‘Hard to Say I’m Sorry.’ ”
Her voice was clear, and her eyes moved from one parent to the other as she sang. The words were touching, every apology seemingly heartfelt, but Ariana’s favorite lines were “After all that we’ve been through I will make it up to you.”
As the song ended, even Skylar seemed overwhelmed with emotion.
“Ariana Brenneman.” Skylar started playing another song. “To the stage please.”
Ariana laid the phone on the bar and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Not happening!”
The families laughed. Their brother Mark had put together a small stage in the café—ironic since Mark first saw Skylar on a stage, which began the whole journey of their parents learning Skylar and Ariana had been swapped at birth.
“Abram Brenneman,” Skylar said. “To the stage.”
“What she said!” Abram pointed at Ariana.
“What is wrong with you people? The way you avoid the spotlight, one would think you’re Amish or something.”
The room filled with laughter. Skylar had done a fantastic job with everything tonight, the music most of all. She’d found a perfect blend of respect and fun and even had on a dress. The first three songs had been Amish hymns, sung in German by all the siblings just like the Ausbund had it, except Skylar accompanied on the keyboard. Then the Brennemans sang the last verse of each song in English so Skylar and her stepsister, Cameron, could sing with them. Every parent had at least a hint of tears before that was done. Mamm was sobbing.
Ariana wasn’t sure how many people were here. Mamm, Daed, all the Brenneman siblings, their spouses, and children. Cilla. Jax. Nicholas. Even his wife, Lynn, and her two teenage sons, Trent and Zachary, came. Brandi and Gabe. Berta. And Levi, a nice young man from several districts away that Susie was dating. Then there were several Amish friends of the family.
This twenty-first birthday had everything these milestones were supposed to have except alcohol and a boyfriend for Ariana. She’d never miss the alcohol, and she and God had hashed through the boyfriend angst.
She’d had to lay that down, because she needed to stay focused and be content right where she was. There was work to be done. Changing minds and attitudes was a slow process.
“Ariana Brenneman,” Skylar elongated the words in a deep voice. “It’s time to do the closing song.”
Ariana shook her head, telling Skylar no.
“Okay, fine. But this shindig is supposed to end about now. It’s inching toward bedtime for our nieces and nephews, and it doesn’t end until there’s a song by the birthday trips.”
But they hadn’t practiced a song. All the siblings had practiced the songs they’d sung ear
lier from the Ausbund and the Englisch version.
Salome hugged Ariana. “You sing for us. Make it a celebration of celebrations, because no one in the room would be the same person if it hadn’t been for you three.”
“That’s true of all of you for us.”
“Then sing it for that reason too.”
Ariana nodded and walked toward the small stage. Family ties were worth fighting for—because when everything was said and done, family mattered, whether they were blood relatives, adopted ones, or, like her and Berta, a choice because there was a connection that defied reason.
Ariana hurried up the two steps. “Skylar.” She turned the microphone off. “What are you thinking? We haven’t practiced anything.”
“Really?” Skylar lifted a brow. “You sure about that?” Skylar looked very pleased with herself. Months ago she had been playing some music after the café closed, and Ariana discovered a delightful song she wanted to learn the lyrics to. Apparently Skylar had used that to nonchalantly teach her and Abram how to sing all the different parts while she played the keyboard.
Abram stepped onto the stage.
Skylar immediately began the lead-in to Ariana’s new favorite song, “California Dreamin’,” by the Mamas and the Papas, which, according to Skylar, had been a huge hit in the sixties.
The words to the song moved Ariana, the visual of brown leaves and gray skies and going for a walk during the winter. But it wasn’t an easy song to sing. One sang, one echoed, while the other started the next verse. She and Abram stepped up to the microphone, and they sang as they had dozens of times while simply enjoying the music. Their version changed a couple of the words in the lyrics, making it a perfect song if one wanted to sing to their family that they were going to stay.
When they finished the song, the room cheered, clearly hearing what they were singing from their hearts. It was the same message they’d been giving, but somehow the flow of the music made it more powerful, and singing it together in celebration of their birthdays seemed to add to the impact.
“The Trips, ladies and gentlemen.” Skylar took the microphone with her and moved to stand beside them. “We have talent that will never be heard around the world or much of anywhere except on our birthdays in this café.” She pointed out in the crowd of family, evidently searching for someone. “There you are. So Mamm and Daed, can we have a birthday party here every year and have music?”
Mamm lowered her head shaking it. Leave it to Skylar not to consider that she was putting them on the spot. But Daed grinned. “We’ll get back to you on that in a couple of years.”
Her magnificent, crazy family—some in cape dresses and head coverings and some in jeans and bangles—hugged and laughed and talked. It took nearly forty minutes for the group to thin to the usual gang of five on a Saturday night—Ariana, Skylar, Jax, Abram, and Cilla.
They cleaned up the mess and talked, but then Ariana shooed them out the door. “I’ve got this. Go do something else on your Saturday night.” She walked outside with them.
Abram opened the carriage door for Cilla. Jax started his truck and backed out, taking Skylar with him. Abram returned to where Ariana stood on the stoop, waving to Skylar and Jax.
“This came for you.” He pulled a letter from his pocket. “It arrived this morning, and I was afraid it might make you sad during the birthday gathering. But to keep it any longer seemed wrong.”
She took it and read the return address. Rudy. “Good decisions.” She kissed his cheek. “Denki.”
“Happy birthday, Sis.”
“Back at you, Bro.”
While they drove off, Ariana went back inside the café. She slid the letter into her pocket and gathered cups and plates. She filled the sink with hot water and detergent, but rather than washing the dishes, she dried her hands and pulled the letter from her pocket.
She hadn’t heard from Rudy since he left Summer Grove five months ago, almost to the day. Walking to the wide set of stairs that led to Skylar’s loft, Ariana opened the letter. She sat and removed it from the envelope.
Dear Ariana,
I hope you’re well. My hand is healed, but it took time and physical therapy. I heard of the upset in Summer Grove, and about two months ago the police had meetings here too. I understand they’ve held them in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana, telling everyone that crimes must be reported to the police. I think people will listen. Amish in these parts feel that the consequences of hiding a crime are terrifying.
As I listened to a man in uniform explain the law’s take on matters, I realized that even though I don’t agree with your headstrong ways, you might be right to want to usher in broader thinking and change how people view blind obedience. As for all that went on with Frieda, I’m grateful Quill stood up for what was right. I don’t know anyone else who would’ve made that sacrifice.
I thought about us on the bench in central Ohio when each of us came halfway so we could visit for a few hours when you were living Englisch. I had wanted to meet you halfway in everything. I thought that was very good and progressive of me to feel that way. Looking back, I realize that what I really wanted was for you to be impressed and grateful that I was sacrificing so much for you. But after you returned to Summer Grove, I grew angry because halfway was too far, and I was angry at what was happening to us, but most of all I was angry with you for having changed while away.
You were right to end the relationship. We had become too different to be equally yoked. But lately I wonder if you became that different or if you simply experienced something that set free the real Ariana—the one who always looked at difficult situations and believed it could be better, if only…
You hold on to that, Ariana. That is good.
It’s time for me to end this now, but I did want you to hear this from me first—I started seeing someone a few months ago, and we will go public with it soon.
Rudy
Ariana stared at the letter. It seemed as if he would marry someone else and have children before she went on another date. Yet contentment and peace welled within her.
Someone knocked on the front door, but she didn’t budge. Who had left what behind before leaving the party? “Kumm.”
Quill walked in. “Surprise!” He waved his hands in the air. “Am I the only one who came to your party? You should try being friendly once in a while.”
“You’re very funny.”
He didn’t shut the door all the way before he walked over to sit next to her. “Is there a reason we’re sitting on the steps? Do you not trust the chairs?”
“It seemed a good place to rest, neither going up nor down.” She tugged on the edge of the letter, and it fluttered in the air. “Rudy.” She folded it. “He’s seeing someone.”
“You want to talk?”
“Always. Just not about Rudy.” They didn’t talk about Rudy much. They focused on what was ahead and memories of a gazillion things they’d done together or apart, events that didn’t include Rudy. But she didn’t avoid talking about him on purpose as if wanting to wipe Rudy from her mind. It was just natural to talk about other things.
“So you’re okay?” Quill leaned back on his elbows, looking as if he had all night to talk if that’s what she wanted.
“About him seeing someone? Ya, I’m surprisingly good, which shocks me.” One day she would share with Quill some of the nice things Rudy wrote.
“I’m glad you’re fine, because I have a gift for you.” He went to the front door and opened it. Lexi came strolling in, wagging her tail.
“Aww. Come here, girl.” Ariana moved to her and knelt. “Are you my gift?” She rubbed Lexi’s ears. “Ya?” she teased.
“Uh, yeah,” Quill said. “That’s a great gift and all—a used dog I’m unwilling to give up, but, uh, this was more what I had in mind.”
Ariana looked up to see a young woman inside her café. It took a moment for it to compute. “Frieda!” Ariana leaped to her feet. “You’re here.”
“Finally found t
he courage.” Frieda looked self-conscious and uncomfortable, but her smile was sincere. “Happy birthday.” She held out her arms.
Ariana hugged her, and the two broke into sobs. A moment later they looked in each other’s eyes and began talking so fast it sounded as if they’d invented a new language.
As they moved to a table toward the back of the café, Quill went behind the counter and started a pot of coffee. This was the best birthday present she could imagine, and it’d happened through the quiet patience of the best friend she had.
How many times had she longed for this moment? No secrets between them. No judgment or unforgiveness or angst. Only love and hope for a smoother road ahead.
Frieda rushed through a lengthy overview of why she’d felt unable to return to Summer Grove before now, as if she owed Ariana an apology.
Ariana put her hands over Frieda’s. “I understand, and what I don’t understand, I accept as your right to live as you needed to. It’s all okay.” Ariana gently squeezed her hands. “All okay.”
Quill brought over two cups of coffee. “Ari, will you drop her off at Mamm’s house when you’re ready?” He chuckled. “Maybe by noon tomorrow?”
As he set the mugs down, Ariana grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go.”
His eyes studied hers, and she was sure he was calculating dozens of reasons whether to do as she was asking.
“Yeah, please stay,” Frieda said. “It’ll be like old times.”
Quill seemed hesitant, but slowly a mischievous grin appeared. “You mean where you two girls talk, and I poke fun at it?”
That wasn’t exactly how it went, but he did have a way of adding dry wit and a man’s view that often put all three of them in stitches. But Ariana could fire back humor against his man logic these days. She was sure of it.
Gathering the Threads Page 29
