A Promise of Grace

by Lynette Sowell

  “I know.” Emma stared at her piece of pie. “But you are a help, Aenti Chelle. You are.” She gave them a weak smile. “And soon, I’m going to be Mrs. Steven Hostetler.”

  “Yes, you will be. Soon. But, if you have any worries, you should also talk to Lena. She seems like a good friend to you. I know what it’s like to have lost a good friend. Sometimes, not talking about something bothering you is the worst thing you can do.”

  * * *

  Silas had to grin as the Cessna shot through the blue skies. Far below, the Gulf waters glittered and gleamed. This afternoon’s short flight—just for fun—mirrored the exhilaration of his first solo flight.

  What a blessing to be doing what he loved most again.

  “Tower Fruitland, this is Cessna fifty-two Charlie requesting clearance for landing.”

  “Roger that, Cessna fifty-two Charlie. Runway two clear, southern approach when ready.”

  “Tower Fruitland, Cessna fifty-two Charlie banking south.”

  “Roger, the wind is from the south, so a fast descent.”

  “Thank you, Tower Fruitland.”

  As always, the minutes spent in the air seemed like a blink in his eye. He slowed the engine, held the control steady, and kept the nose straight.

  With a familiar bump, the Cessna’s wheels hit the runway. The pull of the engine slowed as the plane gradually ground to a halt, and Silas taxied toward the hangar.

  He glanced toward the parking lot. A black Land Rover stood in the VIP parking. Ted Kingsley.

  Another piloting contract for him?

  But Ted usually called or had his assistant contact him.

  The plane’s single propeller swung slower and slower as the engine shut down. Silas performed his postflight checks and shutdowns from the cockpit.

  Ted arrived at the plane by the time Silas had climbed out.

  “Mr. Kingsley.” Silas shook hands with his sometime employer.

  “Silas. It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, sir. How’s the family?”

  “They’re doing well. We’re glad to have our son home again. An adjustment, but no more appointments until a follow-up with the surgeon right before Christmas.”

  “It’s good to hear. I’ve been praying for his recovery.”

  “Thank you. Say, the reason I’m here is not just to book you for the flight on the twenty-third. I assume you’ll be available then? I know it’s close to Christmas, but we’ll be back by Christmas Eve.”

  “Yes, I’ll be available. If you give me the time, I’ll be glad to handle everything from there.”

  “Good. Also, I have a job proposition for you.”

  “A job.”

  “Not contract work. It turns out, my other pilot isn’t able to come back. And I want someone on my payroll permanently.”

  “Oh, I see.” A permanent job? Of course, the idea appealed to him.

  “No need to say yes or no just yet. I’ll have my office send you a detailed proposal about what I have in mind. You’re steady, safe. The family likes you. And, if you’re looking to get commercial training, I’d be willing to help. We have a larger jet for Kingsley Holdings for transatlantic flights for our staff.”

  Flying a larger jet? Transatlantic?

  “Wow, this is a great opportunity.”

  “I thought you’d say as much. Well, I’ll see you in a few weeks. The trip to Atlanta is in-and-out, shoot for a day trip. Unlike last time.”

  “How’s the Cheyenne?”

  “In tip-top working order, as far as I know. I’ve had her in the shop for a thorough going-over.”

  Silas nodded. “Well, thank you, and yes, I’ll see you on the twenty-third.”

  “Good. You’ll have the offer in your e-mail by the end of the day, so make sure you look for it. You can let me know your decision by the twenty-third.”

  “I sure will. Thank you.”

  Then Mr. Kingsley turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of the parking lot.

  Silas pondered the offer. A real job. Not contract work, no more trying to drum up support on furloughs spent traveling to churches in the Midwest, only to return to South Africa and do the same thing over again several years later.

  God, I’ve been so tired. Is this the relief I’ve been looking for?

  He’d been praying about what to do next. He knew from the first day arriving in Pinecraft he wouldn’t make the village a permanent home. Yet he’d grown attached to the place, to spending time with Uncle Tobias and Aunt Fran. And seeing Rochelle regularly, even if things were a bit shaky between them.

  Did the job mean leaving Pinecraft?

  He’d find out soon enough.

  He arrived home to an empty house, with Matthew and Lena still in classes. As he stepped into the kitchen, he realized he’d forgotten to change the wall calendar to the current month, and here it was, Thanksgiving week. At Sunday supper, Aunt Fran had asked if he could bring some bottles of pop along with paper cups for the whole assembled family to use.

  Silas flipped the calendar to November.

  Belinda would have remembered the detail. Now, Silas could keep track of plenty of things, but not calendars and such.

  “We’re doing all right, though, even without a flipped calendar.” Silas said the words aloud to no one in particular. He found a scrap of paper and wrote a shopping list to include two-liter bottles of soda pop, paper cups, and toilet paper. They were about fresh out of note paper, too. Belinda would have seen to it all.

  Enough. He figured he’d get some laundry done before the kids got home for the afternoon and then see if they wanted to walk to Village Pizza for supper. The atmosphere in Pinecraft, the closer it came to Thanksgiving and winter, took on an almost electric quality.

  A knock sounded at the door. He’d left the inner solid door open to allow a warm breeze to drift through the screen door.

  “Hello, hello.” Uncle Tobias said.

  “Come on in. I just got home,” Silas called out to the front of the house.

  The screen door banged, and Tobias joined him in the dining area.

  “Thought you might be home. Not sure if the children were yet, though.”

  “No. Matthew should be home any moment from school. Lena will arrive later, closer to five.”

  “Good, good. I wanted to speak to you before Matthew arrived.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, sure is. I’m getting closer to my high season at the shop. I know he’s been helping me a couple of afternoons when his homework is done. But, I’m going to need extra help, with all these buses from out of town bringing more snowbirds.”

  “I’m sure he’d be happy to work at the shop. He loves being over at your house.”

  “And we enjoy having him there.” A frown flickered across Uncle Silas’s face. “Now, Silas, I hope I’m not overstepping, but . . .”

  “No, what is it?”

  “Matthew and I talk a lot while we work. Mostly he talks, and I let ’im. I forgot what it was to have a youngster around, all the chatter.”

  Silas laughed. “He even talks in his sleep sometimes.”

  “What has me a bit worried is Matthew. Because he’s worried.”

  “Worried? About what?”

  “Leaving Sarasota. He tells me over and over again, he never wants to leave.”

  Silas heaved a sigh. “He mentioned it to me once, not long ago. He was never happy in Ohio. Mom and Dad . . .”

  “Your parents did the best they could. But there’s no beach in Ohio, no life like what you’re used to.”

  “The thing is, Uncle Tobias, the man I’ve been flying for, well, he told me today he wants to offer me a job. A permanent one.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, I know there have been nights you didn’t come home. Like the one time you were stuck in Atlanta because of mechanical problems.”

  “I’m not sure the job will keep me here in Sarasota. I’m pretty sure the family has at least one other residence besides their home here
in Florida. He mentioned New York once. I didn’t think anything more about it because I never imagined he’d offer me a job.”

  “So is this offer in writing?”

  “It will be. He’s going to have his office send me an offer by e-mail, by the end of the day today.”

  “What do you think you’re going to do?”

  “If the job keeps me here, in Sarasota, so be it. But if I have to leave—” The option didn’t sit well with him.

  “Your children are grown; well, one is, the other nearly.”

  “I know. I’ve reminded myself of it a lot. I don’t like the idea of us spread all over. Lena off, with her studies. Matthew, already alone so much if he’s not at your home.” Silas shook his head.

  “Change is never easy.”

  “No, it’s not. If things would only change the way I see fit.”

  Uncle Tobias pulled off his cap, rubbed the top of his head, and chuckled. “If you were God, then?”

  “No.” He smiled. As if anyone could control the future, how life unfolded. He hadn’t seen this coming. Not at all.

  19

  This is one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever done,” Rochelle muttered under her breath as she scaled the front steps to the church.

  Despite her words, the seagulls in her stomach had transformed into pelicans.

  She reminded herself she was going in to meet with two of her favorite people in the world, her pastor and his wife. Silas would be there, and the thought warmed her a bit. She’d missed him, while keeping up with her studies along with her clients. He’d been off flying hither and yon.

  And, the reason for tonight’s meeting was supposedly going to be present tonight, Vera Byler.

  It had been weeks since the fateful trip to Atlanta, and they finally had an evening when they could all meet and “discuss” the issue.

  Rochelle also reminded herself she had shown up at this meeting to help make some peace. If it made Vera feel better for them all to sit down and talk, so be it.

  “Hi, I’m glad you came,” Bea said as Rochelle stepped into the foyer. “We’re going to chat in one of the classrooms. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Bea led her to the room where they’d spoken on the Sunday morning after the Atlanta trip. Her husband sat at the head of the table, with Vera and her husband on to the right of him, Silas to the left, then an empty chair. Bea took the vacant chair at the foot of the table, opposite her husband.

  This wasn’t as if she were Amish, called before the elders for some transgression she’d committed and needed to be reminded to repent.

  Rochelle pulled the lone empty chair away from the table and took a seat.

  “This is it; you’re the only ones here,” said Pastor Marv. “We should begin with prayer.”

  She didn’t cast a glance at Silas beside her, but she sensed his presence. She bowed her head as Pastor asked for God’s blessing upon their meeting, as well as a spirit of unity, peace, and love.

  Yes, she could agree with all three of those.

  “The reason we’re here tonight is to mediate, Bea and I,” said Pastor. “I know you’ve expressed concerns, Vera, but the way you handled this wasn’t exactly biblical.”

  Vera gasped. “Well—”

  “Vera, let the man speak,” her husband said. “It’s not your turn whenever you decide.”

  She said nothing more, but stared at the table.

  “If you did have a true issue with Rochelle and Silas’s actions, you ought to have gone to Rochelle privately.” Pastor Marv’s tone was gentle. “Did you?”

  “No, Pastor, I didn’t.”

  Rochelle kept silent. How many people did Vera talk to about this? But then, Emma had. She suspected, however, Emma only had the motive to find someone to clean the houses Rochelle couldn’t.

  She glanced at Silas, whose expression remained even, but his eyes warmed when her gaze met his.

  Yes, it would be okay. She’d prayed about her feelings, especially regarding Vera. Sometimes, she wanted to give busybodies a piece of her mind.

  And yes, she knew an overnight trip out of town wasn’t a good example. However, it was out of her control.

  “Vera,” she said aloud. “I know at first, hearing something like this didn’t sound good. Or appropriate. But I’m your sister in the Lord. You’ve known me for years. I would never . . .”

  “And I would never put Rochelle in a position to compromise her reputation, either,” Silas finished.

  “Well, you two . . . have a history.”

  Rochelle sat up straighter in the chair. “Silas and I . . . it was a long time ago. Our lives went in different directions. The trip to Atlanta was a . . . a . . .”

  “I made her a promise I’d take her flying someday. The overnight stay was not planned.”

  Why were they explaining themselves, yet again? She glanced at Pastor Marv and Bea.

  Vera’s husband studied his wife’s face, then looked around the table.

  Rochelle continued. “Vera, I’m sorry you believed our trip might have turned into something, ah, inappropriate. I would have never said yes to the trip were it an overnight trip. Besides not having the time, I consider it inappropriate to go on an overnight trip with an unmarried man. No matter if we stay in separate rooms. The fact is, and you’re right, people . . . talk.

  “I can’t control what anyone thinks of me, or my actions. But I do know I have a clean conscience before God. I also know the Scriptures do speak of love always rejoicing in the truth. The truth is, Vera, nothing inappropriate occurred during our trip. You should be happy to know this.”

  At the end of her speech, she found her pulse racing. She kept her hands firmly in her lap. Hopefully, no one could tell they shook.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry.” Vera bit her lip before continuing. “I was wrong to think the worst. I didn’t truly believe you would have done anything . . . inappropriate. You’re right, Rochelle. I’ve known you for many years. I would be . . . shocked . . . if I learned you ever did. And Silas, I don’t know you well. But Samuel speaks highly of you, especially after the meetings with the Heritage Committee.” She hung her head.

  “And . . . I should have spoken to you myself and shared my concern. I was wrong to go to anyone else.” Her shoulders drooped. “Please, forgive me. This is a bad habit I have, to speak or think about anyone like this. Especially if I know it’s not true.”

  Rochelle’s heart went out to the woman.

  She’s lonely. She thinks she doesn’t matter as much anymore and craves attention.

  “I forgive you, Vera. Any one of us can make wrong assumptions about people.”

  Bea nodded. “So true. It’s a natural thing, to feel excited we might have some special knowledge about someone else, something no one else knows.”

  Vera sighed. “You’re right.”

  Silas cleared his throat. “Ah, I know I’m nearly at the end of my proving time. Pastor, will this affect my future membership in the church?”

  Pastor locked eyes with Vera’s husband. An elder, of course. Rochelle kept her mouth closed. She said she’d forgiven Vera. She did. She’d work on it.

  But no, it wouldn’t be fair if this “story” about Silas and her jeopardized his full membership in the Sarasota Mennonite fellowship.

  Pastor shook his head. “No, Silas. You’ve been faithful here, ever since arriving in Pinecraft. Your family, at least your uncle and aunt, have been longtime members here. And of course, your many years of ministry overseas count for a lot.”

  Some might not understand their ways of proving, but Rochelle appreciated it. People, no matter what they said, sometimes didn’t live up to what they professed to believe. Fellowship meant security, community, but it also meant accountability.

  “Good. I’m glad. Thank you, Pastor Marvin.” Silas’s grin made her think of the grin he used to wear years ago.

  She couldn’t help but grin herself.

  After a little light conversation, the mood in the
room lifted, and the three couples prayed together.

  Rochelle recalled some trouble Vera had tried to cause last winter for Betsy. Maybe this had been Vera’s lesson, once and for all.

  They left the church building, and the lightened sensation continued.

  Silas walked with her to her bicycle.

  “Feel better now?” he asked.

  “Much better. I was dreading this meeting. I was hoping they’d say never mind and cancel the meeting.”

  “This meeting was probably more for Vera’s benefit than anyone else’s.” Silas gazed over her shoulder.

  She turned. The Bylers were walking to their vehicle. “Maybe.”

  “We have a history,” he said.

  “History is something that once was,” Rochelle countered.

  “Rochelle . . . do you, would you consider, possibly . . .”

  What was he asking her? Their road had taken more twists and turns and had a dead end. She had no idea what the future held, wasn’t sure if she wanted to wonder.

  “Would you come to Uncle Tobias’s for dessert, Thanksgiving night? Maybe we could . . . go for a walk, too, afterward?”

  She exhaled. Dessert and a walk she could handle. After all, they’d narrowly escaped scandal with their other trip. “Yes. I think I’d like to.”

  They said good-bye, and she hopped onto her bicycle. No, she wasn’t twenty anymore, but she might as well be.

  She waved before pushing off and gliding along the street in the gathering twilight. Passing by Pinecraft Park, she recalled the girls mentioning a concert in the park, as well as some volleyball, so she slowed her bicycle to see if she could find them.

  * * *

  The week continued and here came Thanksgiving day. Silas could only think about how he’d invited Rochelle for dessert and a walk.

  The family meal had ended, with his parents, Uncle Tobias, Aunt Fran, Lena, Matthew, along with the rest of the Fry clan clustered in various spots around the house. A cold front had come through, causing temperatures to dip down and bring a chill to the Florida air.

  He glanced toward the front door. His stomach still felt stuffed to the brim, but he’d find room somehow for a piece of Aunt Fran’s pie and maybe a bite of her blueberry delight.