Always Close to Home

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Laura lifted her eyes and gasped. John had been brought in seated on a wheelchair. She leaped to her feet and would have dashed forward, but Miriam grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

  “You can’t go to him,” Miriam said sharply. “That’s not proper anymore.”

  “But he’s…” Laura stopped. She couldn’t breathe, feeling a heavy weight descending upon her chest. She hadn’t seen John since she’d been forbidden, and now here he was at the youth gathering. She should have known this would happen eventually, but…

  “Just focus on another toy,” Miriam said. “Wendell will be back soon.”

  As if that helps, Laura almost said. John was on his feet now, a little unsteady but able to walk. The miracle she had prayed for was on display in front of everyone, and yet she wasn’t by John’s side. What a cruel fate! Victory had been snatched from her hands! But how could she defy the community’s wishes? And John’s? And John’s parents’ wishes? And Daett’s?

  “One piece at a time,” Miriam said kindly. “And here’s Wendell back with Bishop Ezra.”

  Laura kept her gaze on the barn floor. Wendell’s form soon appeared in front of her, but she still didn’t look up.

  “I’ve been keeping your seat warm for you,” Miriam chirped, bouncing to her feet.

  “Thank you,” Wendell said, but he didn’t sound happy.

  Laura dared sneak a peek at Wendell’s face. He looked like a thundercloud. A thrill ran through her at Wendell’s discomfort. He also hadn’t imagined that John would reappear. Yet what Wendell felt could be nothing compared to the sorrow that gripped her heart. She was so near yet unable to speak to the man she loved.

  Laura heard the sharp intake of her own breath when John glanced their way—as if he knew where she was seated.

  “Control yourself!” Wendell said out of the corner of his mouth.

  “I loved him—I still love him,” Laura whispered. “With my whole heart.”

  Wendell’s face grew grim. “That was then. This is now.”

  Laura stifled her protest. What was the use? Yet she couldn’t take her eyes off of John, who was now being led to a seat by Bishop Ezra himself. Bishop Ezra whispered something in John’s ear, and John sat down slowly on a bale of hay. Bishop Ezra straightened himself and seemed to ponder what his next move should be.

  John lifted his head and said something, and a questioning look filled the bishop’s face. He soon bent down to hand one of the simpler toys to John, a game that required the attachment of posts and strings around the sides. John ran his hands over the assembled parts several times, while the bishop laid the necessary pieces in front of John. The point was obvious. John planned to put the game together, or at least try.

  “Stop watching him,” Wendell ordered, loud enough for the couple next to them to look their way.

  Laura didn’t break her gaze from John’s hands. They moved slowly at first as John carefully sought out the parts of the game. He consulted the assembled toy repeatedly and seemed to have found his way.

  “Stop it!” Wendell ordered again.

  “He’s doing it,” Laura whispered back, her voice full of joy. John’s spirit was exactly what she expected.

  Wendell’s voice was a quiet whisper now. “Stop looking at him! Do you hear me, Laura?”

  Laura turned toward him. “Okay, but I’ll never stop loving him. That’s the way it is, Wendell, even if I can never marry him.”

  Wendell swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “It takes time, these things,” he said, more to himself than to her. “The heart is strange in its way. The Lord owns it and brings it back to His own will, even if the road is difficult and uncertain. Of that we can be sure.” Wendell focused on Laura’s face. “Do you hear me?”

  Laura looked away. She wasn’t about to respond. Wendell knew the answer to his question. “I’m going to speak with John,” she said instead.

  Wendell reached for her, but Laura eluded him to stand. Suddenly a wave of weakness flooded through her. What was wrong? She had to speak with John, but she couldn’t make a move.

  Wendell grabbed her arm. “Sit, Laura,” he ordered.

  Laura pulled her gaze from John’s face, as she seated herself again. Everything and everyone was against her! She wanted to pray, but what was the use? Did the Lord even hear? A groan escaped her. Wendell looked the other way, and busied himself with a toy train set. As long as she didn’t get up to speak with John, Wendell would be happy. The tears began to form, but she didn’t dare wipe them away. There had been enough scenes from her tonight. All around them people sent sympathetic glances her way. At least they cared—unlike Wendell, who was concerned only with what he wanted.

  Why had she consented to another date with the man? The logic escaped her at the moment. Something about wanting Wendell to see that she could never love him. But he clearly already knew that and didn’t seem to care. The rest of the community thought she had given in to what they saw as the will of the Lord. If she rejected Wendell, her decision wouldn’t change the minds of John’s parents. They’d entrenched themselves deeper into their decision that their blind son would not marry. Spinsterhood certainly lay ahead of her.

  Laura hung her head, and Wendell gave her a quick glance. He must have decided it was best not to give orders or even engage her in conversation. Laura lifted her head enough to finish another toy set. Wendell also kept himself occupied, but he seemed distracted by John—who had successfully assembled his first toy.

  Bishop Ezra came over to inspect the attempt when John waved his hand for help. The look on Bishop Ezra’s face turned from a question into surprise, followed by a smile. John didn’t smile, but he set himself to work on the next toy with determination on his face.

  “This relationship is over,” Laura said in Wendell’s direction.

  He jumped as if stung. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  “Do we have to do this in front of everyone?”

  “No one has to hear if you don’t make a scene.” Laura faked a smile. “They’ll think we’re finally having a friendly conversation.”

  Wendell winced. “If you think you can marry John just because he can put a simple toy together, then guess again.” A satisfied look crossed Wendell’s face. “You might as well give up, Laura. I thought you had, but I see that further struggles lie ahead. You had best accept the Lord’s will.”

  “I already have,” she said.

  “No you haven’t,” he shot back.

  Laura took a deep breath. There was only one way out of this. She had to embarrass Wendell so deeply that he would never bother her again. Of course, her own reputation would suffer in the process, but what did she care? And what was wrong with speaking with John tonight, or sitting beside him? Nothing! Maybe she could never marry John, but she could speak kind words to him tonight, and let the sticks fall where they would.

  “Laura!” Wendell’s tone was sharp.

  Laura ignored him and stood. She could not falter this time. Her legs had to hold her. Slowly she forced them forward one step a time. John must have heard her step because he looked upward.

  “It’s me. Laura!” she whispered, seating herself on the hay bale beside him. “You’re doing so great, John, as I knew you would.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” John said, his face turned toward her.

  “I’m not leaving,” she replied. “Please don’t chase me away.”

  The struggle on his face was intense. “I can’t marry you,” he said.

  “You don’t have to,” she said. “But you can’t stop me from loving you.”

  “What about Wendell?”

  “What about him?” she said. “Who’s Wendell?”

  John’s grin spread across his face. She wanted to lean against his shoulder, grab his hand, and kiss him, but she only smiled. Somehow he could see her. How? She didn’t know, but surely he could.

  “How are you doing?” she asked him.

 
“Okay, I guess.”

  Laura felt Wendell’s stare digging into the back of her neck, but she ignored him. She had finally done the right thing. Beyond that she had no idea what would happen, but she didn’t need to know. Having John beside her was sufficient joy for the moment.

  Chapter Thirty

  It was early Saturday morning, and Nancy Beiler was driving her horse, Floe, through the streets of Richville. She hung tight onto the reins as Floe flared her nostrils amid the heavy traffic. She had hoped to miss the traffic rush, but the Christmas holidays were approaching and the Englisha were out in force. Nancy kept her eyes on Floe’s every move. Her horse usually didn’t act up in town, but lately she had been jumpy for no apparent reason. Likely Floe was reflecting Nancy’s own jittery feelings, or maybe Floe knew the real reason for their trip into town. Nancy planned to call Charles.

  After another night of agonizing, she knew the time had come. She must meet with him. Yost Mast would likely make a formal marriage proposal soon, perhaps tomorrow after the Sunday service. Unless something was done she would go along with his plans, and a date would be set. Yost would want an early spring wedding, if she didn’t miss her guess. She must make her move now. Today! Regardless of what that might mean.

  The truth was, she had tried to make a go of things with Yost, but it wasn’t working. Her former feelings for Yost had not returned, and neither had she seen the glint in Yost’s eyes that he once had at the sight of her. She could remember that look well, but the years had taken their toll. Yost had seen her sitting in church as a single woman for too many Sundays, while he lived with Lavina and raised his family. One couldn’t change such things. Some habits were too deeply ingrained to change just because the circumstances had.

  They had been in love once. Yah, this was true. She had no doubt about that, but Yost was now looking for a frau to comfort the ache in his heart. In so doing, he was looking to the past, but he wasn’t looking with love in his eyes. He was simply planning to settle for second-best. Though he was okay with that, she would not be. Especially when she had the real thing within arm’s reach. She couldn’t go into marriage with Yost when her heart belonged to another man, no matter what the community thought. If she married Yost, she would always wonder what her life could have been if she had chosen another path. She had to find the courage to choose the right road now while there was still time.

  It was a road that led into darkness, yah, and into the bann—into the life of an outcast and a thousand other things that made her hands tremble. But the choice also included the love of a man. A true love! A love that bound a heart to a heart. How could she help it if that man was an Englisher? Was she to blame for Yost’s decision all those years ago? Yost had chosen another woman, and now her heart had chosen another man.

  “I hope you understand that I didn’t try to fall in love with Lavina,” Yost had assured her again last Sunday evening.

  “It’s okay, Yost,” she had told him, but later she knew why he had said the words.

  Yost finally understood how much his actions had hurt her, and he figured she hadn’t healed from the wound. Only she had healed. That was the surprise. Yost’s explanation wasn’t needed anymore. She no longer pined for a marriage with him. Not since Charles had come into her life. The Lord had sent healing in His own time, and Yost had returned to a heart that was already in another man’s power. Yah, she loved Charles, and no actions or words from Deacon William or anyone else had changed that. Even her own surrender to the community’s judgment hadn’t accomplished the desired result. She still loved Charles, and if he would have her after all that had happened in the past weeks, she would marry him.

  “There it is,” Nancy said out loud at the red light.

  Floe pranced on her four feet as if she, too, couldn’t wait to arrive at the outdoor pay phone. The hardware store had one that was used mostly by the Amish, which was why she had come early before the store opened. Things would be easier if no Amish man wanted to use the phone while she made the call. Normally she would be allowed her privacy, but with her recent past, there would be reason to question.

  “Lord, help me,” Nancy muttered as she pulled back on the reins and parked Floe at the far light pole. There was a hitching rack near the hardware store, but the spot seemed too conspicuous. Here she could be seen, but she might avoid a conversation with any Amish people who arrived. Nancy climbed down and tied Floe to the pole, and then she moved quickly to the pay phone halfway across the parking lot. Nancy glanced around one more time before she dropped in the coins and dialed the number she knew by heart. Charles had given her his cell phone number early on. She had committed the number to memory but never used it.

  What would he say when she called? Maybe he wanted nothing more to do with her after whatever Deacon William told him. If that were the case, at least she would have her answer and could make the best of things. Yost need never know she had strayed before she accepted his proposal of marriage.

  Nancy dialed the number and waited. She felt like a nervous teenager again. But wasn’t that how people acted when they were in love? Even older people? The heart apparently never changed.

  “Hello?” Charles’s voice was crisp.

  Nancy trembled. “Hello, it’s me, Nancy.”

  “Nancy,” he said. “You’re calling me?”

  “I have to see you, Charles,” she managed. “If you’re still willing…I mean, to see me.”

  “But Nancy…” He hesitated. “Are you sure? This can cause you trouble and—”

  “I want to see you, Charles. It’s my choice, not theirs.” The phone shook in her hand. “Will you please see me?”

  “Where?”

  “At my house. I’m at the pay phone in Richville, but I can be back home in thirty minutes.”

  “Nancy! You’d best wait where you are. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered and hung up the phone.

  What did that mean? Nancy leaned against the side of the phone booth and tried to regain her strength. She was the strict Amish schoolteacher who was about to jump the fence. She was determined but knew the journey wouldn’t be easy. Old habits learned over a lifetime didn’t die at once. Surely Charles would understand and have patience with her. He loved her, didn’t he?

  Nancy turned from the phone booth and walked to her buggy. Floe looked at her as if she knew Nancy was guilty, but highly approved anyway. Nancy laughed out loud, the sound approaching hysterical. The pressure had affected her mind, Nancy told herself. Horses didn’t know anything about jumping the fence—even smart horses like Floe. But at least Floe was still her friend. By tomorrow morning she would need all the friends she could find. That was if Charles didn’t reject her offer. With all she had put him through, she couldn’t blame him if he did. There were many women among the Englisha who would make a better frau for Charles than she would.

  Nancy looked up as a buggy pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the hitching post. Emil Helmuth, a married man from the community, climbed out and waved to her. She waved back but didn’t move. She ought to go inside and buy something she needed, but she couldn’t remember what that was. And she might miss Charles. She couldn’t take any chances. If Emil saw her with Charles the whole community would know by nightfall. They would deal with her accordingly. Deacon William had been kind to her once, but that would end with a second serious transgression.

  Thankfully Emil went on inside, and moments later Charles’s pickup truck pulled into the parking lot. Nancy gripped the buggy wheel for strength and waited. Charles parked beside her and opened the door.

  “Come,” he said softly, motioning toward the other side of the pickup truck. A faint smile filled his face.

  She didn’t answer but climbed in the truck.

  “So,” he said. “What is this about?”

  “I’m ready to come into your world,” she said. “If you will still have me.”


  “You will marry me?”

  “Yah,” she whispered. “If you wish.”

  His smile grew. “I’ve wished for nothing else for a long time. How often did I ask you, but you—”

  “I know,” she interrupted. “But I’m ready now. I can’t live like this anymore. I owe it to myself and to you. I want to follow my heart, Charles. You are a decent man. I’m in love with you, and if you still love me after what I’ve put you through…” Nancy let the words hang in the air.

  Charles nodded. “Strange things have happened lately, I agree. I’ve never been lectured by a deacon before, but he was kind enough about it. He simply told me you had made your choice, and there was no going back.” Charles’s face darkened. “Have you really changed your mind? You know I love you. I’ve made that plain enough, but I’m older, not as elastic as I once was.”

  “Oh, Charles.” She caught her breath. “I’m so sorry. I never should have agreed to Deacon William’s plan, but it’s hard coming out from the community. It seemed easier, somehow, just to go along and give up. But in the end, I realized I can’t marry a man I don’t love. Not while I still dream of you. I owe that to myself, and to you, and to the Lord. You want everything that I want, Charles. I know you do. You can’t help it that you’re Englisha, and I can’t ask you to become Amish. My duty is to come your way, not the other way around.”

  He reached over to touch her face at the very moment Emil walked out of the hardware store and glanced their way. Even so, Nancy forced herself to forget about Emil, and she gave in to Charles’s embrace.

  “You really will marry me then?” Charles asked.

  In answer, Nancy moved closer to him and lifted both hands to tenderly cradle his chin. He must not have shaved today, because the telltale bristles filled her palms. He smelled of cologne, and of the Englisha firehouse, and a hundred other things forbidden to her.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  He didn’t hesitate, and as soon as their lips touched, she relaxed in his embrace. She kissed him without guilt. After a few moments, she let go and straightened herself on the pickup seat. She caught sight of Emil again. He was standing still, looking their way. Charles turned his head and noticed the man for the first time. Alarm filled his face.