by Beth Wiseman
Recoiling her hand, she unhooked the latch and put the bracelet in the shiny white container it had come in, then placed it into the box with Ryan’s other things—a striped tie and three dollars in change he’d left on her kitchen counter.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Buddy laid his head on one of Charlotte’s bare feet. Her sweet pup’s droopy eyes stared up at her as his tongue swept gently across her toes. Even her faithful companion was sad.
Her cell phone rang three times before she scooped Buddy into her arms and forced herself to walk across the living room. Maybe Ryan was calling to say he wasn’t coming over after all. Charlotte took her cell phone out of her purse, but when she saw the caller ID, she just stared at the number. Hannah.
As much as she loved Hannah and her family, just hearing her Amish friend’s voice would bring a river of tears, and now was not the time for crying. She wanted Ryan to see that her life would go on just fine without him. Which, of course, it won’t. Charlotte didn’t think her eyes had been dry for more than an hour over the past week.
She eyed her phone and watched it vibrate with a new voice mail. Hannah rarely called. Cell phones in Amish families were mostly for emergencies—at least that’s the way it was supposed to be. She put a hand to her chest and sucked in a big gulp of air when there was a knock at the door. God, give me strength. She’d been praying, but the Lord must have deemed her unworthy of a life with Ryan.
Charlotte set Buddy on the couch and shuffled across the living room, stopping short of the front door. She released her breath, picked up the small box, and reached for the doorknob.
As she stared at the man she’d hoped to marry someday, she fought the urge to rush into his arms and beg for forgiveness. Again. But somewhere deep in her soul, she knew it was over between them. Everything that could be said had been said, and there was no recovering what they’d once had. But it was a reality she didn’t want to face, so she clung to the tiniest bit of hope in an effort to stay sane.
Ryan looked past Charlotte when Buddy scurried across the floor toward them. “Hey, Buddy.” He picked up the dog as a smile lit his face. It wasn’t so long ago that Ryan greeted her with the same enthusiasm. He nuzzled Buddy for a few moments before he set him down, then he found Charlotte’s gaze and held it for a long while before he said, “Did you find a letter from the landlord taped to your door?”
“Um . . .” She turned toward the couch where her purse was. “Yeah, just a few minutes ago, but I haven’t opened it yet. I know I’m late on my rent. I’ve already gotten two notices, but I’m waiting on a check.”
Ryan held his position just inside the front door as he sighed. “You’ve been evicted, Charlotte.”
“What?” she answered in a squeaky voice, her heart rate soaring.
“What did you think would happen if you didn’t pay your rent or communicate with the apartment manager?” He spoke in a tone that made Charlotte feel like a child. “They’ve tried to call you and also serve you with papers twice, and that’s all that’s required by law. And since I’m listed as your emergency contact, they were knocking at my door this afternoon. I just happened to be working from home today.”
“They probably called the number for my landline, the one I gave them when I moved in. But I don’t have it anymore. I just have my cell phone.” She lowered her eyes as a knot built in her throat. “I thought I had more time, and—”
“Charlotte, I want only good things for you, but you need to figure out a way to get off this financial hamster wheel you’ve been riding.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “As much as I’d like to help you, I can’t this time.”
“I’ll be okay. Really.” She blinked back tears and lifted her chin as she tried to maintain a tiny bit of pride. “When my checks finally arrive, I’ll be fine.” She picked up the box with Ryan’s things and held it out, trying hard to smile, but trying even harder not to cry.
“I told you I don’t really need that stuff.” He scooped Buddy into his arms again and scratched behind the dog’s ears, not even looking at Charlotte, as if shattering her life had no lasting effect on him.
Charlotte shrugged. “Well, what am I going to do with a tie?” She pushed the box at him until he finally put Buddy down and took it. “The bracelet’s in there too.”
“Charlotte . . .” Ryan sighed and finally looked her in the eye. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We were friends for a long time before this. I still want you in my life.”
“Are you kidding me?” She regretted the outburst right away. Her plan had been not to react, no matter what, to remain detached. But tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and as she attempted to blink them away, she added, “I don’t want to be your friend.”
Ryan lifted the lid from the box, pulled out the small white jewelry box, and eyed the bracelet. “I told you to keep this. If you don’t want to wear it, you should sell it.”
Charlotte bit her bottom lip and shook her head, even though she suspected the bracelet would bring in enough money to catch her up on rent. It didn’t feel right.
Ryan sighed again as he snapped the white box closed and put everything back as it was, tucking the shoe box under his arm. He eyed the dog at his feet, and Charlotte wondered who Ryan was going to miss the most—her or Buddy. Ryan probably deserved joint custody of Buddy. They’d picked him out at the shelter together, and Ryan loved the dog as much as Charlotte did. Ryan had paid for all of Buddy’s shots and medications at the vet’s office. She wished he didn’t know her financial situation. It just added another layer of humiliation.
“Anyway, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he repeated, ignoring her comment about not wanting to be just friends.
“How should it be, Ryan?” She bit her bottom lip again as she recalled the scene in his living room two weeks ago, her screaming as he tried to defend himself. Charlotte knew she’d gone too far when she heaved a candy bowl at the fireplace, shattering it to pieces while Hershey’s Kisses rolled across the floor amid shards of glass.
“I don’t know how it should be, honestly. I just know that I want you in my life in some capacity.” He said the words as if he were giving a presentation for work.
“Just go,” she said as a tear slipped down her cheek. Plan foiled. This was not how she wanted to present herself, as the pitiful girl who got dumped, whose heart was broken. But that’s exactly who she was, and she was starting to think that was who she’d always be. The girl with a broken heart who was abused as a child, whose brother had killed himself, whose parents were MIA—and now the one man she’d pinned all her hopes and dreams on had kicked her to the curb.
He turned to leave but hadn’t gotten far when Charlotte said, “Ryan?” He slowly turned around.
Don’t do it. Stay quiet. Maintain a little dignity.
“Is there any . . . any way that . . .” The dam broke, and tears poured down her face. “. . . that maybe we could try . . . to . . .” She held her breath, feeling a sliver of optimism when Ryan’s eyes filled with tears too. That should have made her happy, to see him hurting. But it didn’t.
He shook his head, and without saying anything, he turned and walked away.
Charlotte closed the door and stared at it, the scent of Ryan’s cologne lingering. After a few moments, she shuffled back across the living room and threw herself onto the couch so she could continue her meltdown. But her eyes went back to the door, where Buddy was still standing, staring the same way Charlotte had.
“He’s not coming back, Buddy,” she said softly as she straightened her dog’s favorite blue blanket, patting it until she finally got his attention. With his head hung and his tail between his legs, Buddy made his way to her. Even though she and Ryan hadn’t lived together, he’d been at her apartment a lot. As she stroked Buddy’s back, she wondered how much an animal felt such a loss. “It’s my fault, not yours,” she said as she continued to love on him. Apparently, I have trust issues.
&n
bsp; After a few minutes, she dragged herself off the couch, picked up her cell phone from the kitchen bar, and pushed the voice mail button. When she heard Hannah’s voice, more tears came. She hadn’t told her friend about the breakup yet, and she longed for the comfort her Amish family would offer her. Maybe her self-analysis about the woman and little girl had been correct after all.
But when Charlotte heard Hannah sniffle, she stifled her own cries to listen to the message. “Jacob left. He left us. He doesn’t want to be Amish.” What? There was a long pause. “Mamm is frantic. We found a note two days ago, but we thought he’d be back. We haven’t heard anything and now we’re really worried. Why would he do this? He and Annie were supposed to get married in the fall.” Hannah sniffled again. “Please call me when you can.”
Charlotte hit redial on the phone and walked to the couch to sit by Buddy, wondering why life had a way of throwing curveballs that plunked you in the face when you least expected it.
“Hannah, it’s me. I got your message. What in the world do you think made Jacob leave?” Charlotte slouched into the white cushions next to Buddy. “Were he and Annie fighting?”
“Nee. Annie says they weren’t squabbling or anything.” Hannah exhaled. “Mamm went to Annie’s house this morning and showed her the letter. Jacob didn’t really give a reason, just that he couldn’t stay in Lancaster County. He asked everyone to forgive his choice, and he said to tell Annie that he loves her—and us—very much. But he didn’t even say where he was going.”
“I can’t believe he left.” Charlotte wasn’t as surprised as she let on, recalling her time in Lancaster County at the end of last year. Jacob had always been much more worldly than the others. He loved anything to do with space and the universe, and he even owned a telescope. He’d always been preoccupied with things happening outside of their community. And if Charlotte’s experiences were any example, men were generally fickle, unsure of what they wanted. But she knew enough about the Amish to know that leaving the community was rare. Most kids stayed, even after having a chance to explore the outside world through their rumschpringe, beginning at age sixteen. Jacob wasn’t even eighteen yet.
“I bet he’ll come back,” Charlotte offered, trying to stay afloat amid her own troubles. She lay back on the couch next to Buddy, crossed one ankle over the other, and settled her head against the armrest of the couch. Occasionally she glanced toward the front door, willing Ryan to return, to say he’d made a horrible mistake, that he loved her no matter what.
“I don’t know, Charlotte. Jacob has always been . . . different. Mamm has always worried this might happen someday. She actually cried joyful tears when she found out Jacob wanted to marry Annie. She took that as a sure sign that Jacob wouldn’t leave. But Mamm and Daed are so upset now that he’s gone. We all are. But we have to believe that Jacob will think about what he’s doing and choose to come back. We hope he will make that choice sooner instead of later, but he will always be welcome home.”
Home. Charlotte wondered where her home was going to be. She probably only had until the end of the month to be out of her apartment. Her mind was swirling, and she was having trouble staying focused on the conversation, but she wanted to be reassuring to her friend.
“Maybe Jacob just needs some time away from everyone to think about things.” Charlotte wasn’t sure Jacob had ever been out of Lancaster County. “Then he’ll be back.”
Hannah’s family would forgive Jacob for most anything. That was the Amish way. Charlotte recalled all the lies she’d told Hannah and her family a few months ago, all in an attempt to find out why her only brother had committed suicide in their Amish community. Hannah, Jacob, and their mother Lena had forgiven Charlotte, but she wasn’t sure about Hannah’s father. Amos was a quiet man, but Charlotte could still recall the anger etched across the older man’s face when he’d learned the truth.
Following her cancer diagnosis, Lena had needed chemo at MD Anderson, and she’d stayed with Charlotte in Houston. They’d formed a bond that Charlotte had never known with her own mother, and Amos always sent his regards to Charlotte. But Charlotte wasn’t sure if she’d ever be completely back in Amos’s good graces.
Looking back, she was still surprised that it took Hannah and her family as long as it did to figure out that Charlotte wasn’t really their cousin from Beeville, that she wasn’t even Amish. But Charlotte would have eventually told them. The lies had been suffocating her. She had a lot of memories from her time in Lancaster County—good and bad. But it was the good ones she held tightly to, recalling them when she needed to feel loved. Like now. She sniffled and quietly blew her nose.
“What’s wrong, Charlotte? You sound like you’re crying.” Hannah said it with such tenderness that moisture pooled in Charlotte’s eyes. She squeezed her eyes closed and allowed the tears to spill down her cheeks.
“You have enough to worry about with Jacob and—” Her voice cracked before she could finish.
“Tell me. What is it?” Hannah’s sweet voice only made Charlotte cry harder.
“Ryan broke up with me.”
There was a long silence before Hannah responded. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
Charlotte wiped her eyes and sat up, moving to sit Indian style. “It’s a long story, but I thought Ryan was cheating on me with a woman named Shelley, someone he works with. I became so obsessed about it that I, uh . . . checked his text messages.” She squeezed her eyes closed again for a few moments. “He caught me, and things just sort of blew up.” Sniffling, she decided not to mention the candy bowl. “As it turns out, he wasn’t involved with her in a romantic way. I’m ashamed that I stooped to that level, to check his messages. And now I’m just sad.”
Sad was an understatement. She thought about Ethan and wondered how low he must have felt to think that suicide was his only option. Charlotte was a survivor and would never do anything to hurt herself, but she wondered why God had shown her how true love could feel, only to take it away from her.
“I can hear how much you’re hurting, Charlotte. But you mustn’t feel shame. We all do things we regret, but God forgives us, and to hold on to shame doesn’t honor God. We love you and will be praying for your heart to heal.”
Hannah always helped Charlotte to see things from a spiritual perspective, even at a time when her own family was in crisis. “Thank you. I love all of you too.” She reached for the box of tissues as Buddy snored on the couch next to her. She dabbed at her eyes, wondering how she was going to get enough money for a deposit on another apartment. She didn’t have any blood relatives to turn to. She’d gotten detached from most of her girlfriends since she’d been spending so much time with Ryan. And even though sadness had taken hold of her, fear of being homeless was starting to take a front seat. No one but Ryan and Dr. Levin knew about her financial troubles. She was going to be truthful with Hannah, but she wasn’t up to sharing the entire truth right now.
She squeezed her eyes closed and grimaced. “I’m having a little trouble with some of my clients paying me. I’m going to move at the end of the month, hopefully somewhere a little cheaper.” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “And it’s my fault too. I’ve lost my focus on work during this whole breakup with Ryan.”
Hannah waited to respond, then said, “You should move here.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve said that the nature of your job will let you work from anywhere, and you own a house free and clear right here in Lancaster County.”
The house. Ethan’s house that he’d left to her. “Yeah, I own a house that doesn’t have electricity.”
Hannah chuckled. “Ya, well . . . it’s not so bad. You managed while you were staying with us before. But you could always have electricity installed.”
That takes money. “And I don’t know if I could live there, Hannah. I mean, because that’s where Ethan lived, and—”
“I understand.”
“But if I could get it sold, that would certainly help
my financial situation. Didn’t you say that Isaac was done with all the repairs and painting?” Charlotte had barely squeaked out the money for that, and she suspected Hannah’s fiancé hadn’t charged her for his time, just the supplies. “If so, I should probably get it listed to sell.”
“Ya. He’s done.” Hannah huffed. “It would sure be fun if you lived nearby.”
Charlotte let the thought wander around in her head, but it wasn’t long before the woman and little girl flashed in her mind again. She wondered if her brother had felt drawn to Amish country because of some distant memory. She wished she could ask him. But if anyone might know, it would be Hannah, since her friend had been engaged to her brother before he died.
“Hannah, I’m so sorry to be dumping my problems on you while all this is going on with Jacob, but I need to ask you something, then I’ll let you go.”
“Ya, okay. What is it?”
Charlotte took a deep breath. “I know Ethan talked to you about our childhood and the couple of years we both spent in foster care, but did he ever mention anything . . .” Charlotte paused. She wasn’t even sure how to explain this odd recollection she seemed to be having.
“Did he mention what?”
Charlotte did her best to explain to Hannah, then shrugged. “If the woman and the little girl were dressed like the Amish, it seems odd that I’d see myself as the child and my mother as the adult. My counselor suggested that, but I don’t know. And if I was going to have some weird memory pop up like that, you’d think it would have happened last time I was in Amish country.” She shook her head. “I’m just going to try not to think about it. I have enough on my plate.”
“Did the woman or child have on a kapp?”
Charlotte’s heart pounded as her head started to hurt. Dr. Levin hadn’t thought to ask that question. She brought a hand to her chest. “The woman and little girl at the convenience store didn’t have on any type of prayer covering.” Her heart seemed to skip a beat as a memory flashed from somewhere deep in her mind. “But when I see a woman and child in my head, the woman in the green dress does have a kapp on. What does that mean?” Her voice was louder than normal as she tried to remember more.
