A dam of fresh hurt burst inside him. Why was she ignoring him? He knew she was awake, but she refused to acknowledge him. He stared down at his hand, his tanned skin against the light skin of her forearm. He moved his hand to grip hers, but hers lay limply in his palm. He let it slip out of his grasp.
Turning, he sat down in the chair, clueless about what to do for her, or for himself. He knew what his father would say—pray. Take it to the Lord. But right now he was too consumed with his own misery to summon a single word of prayer.
Elisabeth stared at her paperwork, trying to concentrate. Mostly her mind was on her sister-in-law. Anna had returned home from the hospital yesterday, and Elisabeth planned to stop and visit her after work. She’d heard Anna was going to be okay, but the details of the surgery were sketchy, which she found odd. She hoped to find out more when she saw Anna this evening.
“Can I come in?”
Elisabeth looked up to see Deborah standing by the door of the office. She smiled, pushing concern over Anna out of her mind and gesturing for her friend to come inside.
“I’m glad to see you,” she said to Deborah. “How are you doing?” Then she rose from her chair. “Here, sit down.”
Deborah shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t need to sit. You were right about the nausea; it’s getting better. Plus I’ve learned to eat a few saltine crackers as soon as I get up in the morning.”
“That’s gut. How is everything else?”
Her friend took a deep breath. She was dressed in full Amish clothing, complete with black bonnet and a black shawl pinned around her neck. “I told my parents.”
Elisabeth’s eyes widened. “What did they say?”
“They surprised me. I thought they’d be angry, or worse, not even care. They were upset, especially my mami.” Deborah rubbed her nose. “But they were understanding too. I told them how I’d been feeling the past couple of years, like it didn’t matter to them what I did. They said they were sorry and said it always mattered.” She paused. “They just didn’t know what to do. They’d never had a rebellious teenager before, and they thought they could just pray me back. And in a way, they did.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“That’s why I stopped by.” She took her purse and pulled out a slip of paper. “Here’s my new address.”
Elisabeth read it. “You’re moving to Lancaster?”
“Ya. I have an aunt who lives in Paradise, and she’s agreed to let me move in until the boppli’s born. She never joined the church, but we still keep in contact with her.”
“But why don’t you stay here?”
Deborah shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t face people here, Elisabeth. Not everyone is as accepting as you.”
“You might be surprised.”
“Maybe. But I want to save my parents the embarrassment, at least for now. Once the boppli’s born then I might come back. Or I might stay there, I don’t know.” She moved to stand in front of Elisabeth. “But whatever happens, I don’t want to lose our friendship. I almost threw that away, and I don’t want that to happen again.”
Elisabeth hugged her friend. “Don’t worry, it won’t.” She stepped back. “Write as often as you can.”
“You too.” Her eyes shone with tears. “Danki, Elisabeth, for everything.”
“God be with you,” Elisabeth called out as her friend left the office. She sat down at her desk and started to cry. She was glad Deborah seemed at peace with her decision, but she would miss her friend. Plucking a tissue from the box on the desk, she blew her nose.
At the end of the day, Elisabeth locked the door behind her. Aaron and Gabe had been delivering horseshoes to various customers around Geauga County, so she hadn’t seen Aaron all day. Work wasn’t nearly as interesting, or as much fun, without him around.
Half an hour later she arrived at Anna’s house. Actually Anna and Lukas’ house, as he had moved his things into her house right before the wedding. She felt bad that her brother and Anna had to cut their wedding celebration short. But Anna would be all right, and that’s what counted.
She parked the buggy, then went to the front, carrying one of Ruth’s books under her arm. She knocked on the door. A few moments later it opened.
“Hello, Elisabeth,” Edna said, her voice sounding weary.
“Hi. I came to visit Anna.”
“That’s nice of you, but she’s not up to visitors today.”
“Oh. Okay, then, is Lukas here? I haven’t seen him since the wedding.”
Edna shook her head. “He must still be at work.”
Elisabeth frowned. Lukas was working? Why wouldn’t he be staying with his wife? That didn’t sound like him. “Will you tell her I stopped by?”
“I will. Tell your mudder hello for me.”
Elisabeth nodded, and Edna closed the door. As she drove home, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that even though she’d been told Anna would be all right, nothing was truly right at all.
“Now you don’t worry about that, Anna.” Edna came into the living room and took the needle and thread, along with Onkel Zeb’s shirt, from Anna’s grasp. “You’ve only been home for a week. You don’t need to be doing anything other than recovering.”
“Mami, I can sew. Dr. Caxson said not to lift anything more than ten pounds or to climb up the stairs for the next two weeks. I can surely sew a button on Onkel Zeb’s shirt.”
“Ya, but you don’t have to.” Edna plopped herself down on the chair next to the sofa where Anna was sitting. Zeb was sitting down opposite from her, his reading glasses perched on his nose, doing the daily crossword from the paper. He leaned closer to the oil lamp on the small end table as he examined the puzzle more closely.
“Four letter word for ‘ponder over,’” he said.
“Mull.” Edna took the needle in hand and started sewing on the button. “I know what Dr. Caxson said. I was there, remember?”
“Egyptian crosses?” Zeb said, frowning. “How am I supposed to know the word for Egyptian crosses? I ain’t never been to Egypt.”
“And he said to be careful. Did you call to make your follow-up appointment yet?”
“I will. Tomorrow.”
Edna put down her sewing and gave Anna a stern look. “Please, Anna. Don’t tell me we’re going to go through all this again.”
“Japanese raw fish dish. Starts with S. Oh, that’s that crazy sushi stuff.” He put the pencil tip to his tongue and licked it before writing the word down. “Can’t understand why anyone would want to eat somethin’ raw.”
“Zeb, please,” Edna said. “We’re trying to have a serious conversation.”
Zeb glanced up from his paper, his white bushy eyebrows rising. “Oh, you two ain’t botherin’ me none. You just keep jabberin’ on.”
Anna shook her head, her lips curving upward. Leave it to Onkel Zeb to make her smile, even though lately all she wanted to do was cry. She could barely bring herself to look at Lukas. She was glad Dr. Caxson had told her she couldn’t climb stairs. She had slept on the couch since she came home, with Lukas sleeping upstairs in what would eventually be their bedroom. They rarely saw each other—he rose early in the morning and left without breakfast, then came home late at night. He was avoiding her, and she didn’t blame him.
Eventually she would be well enough to go up the stairs, then they would share the same room. And the same bed. What was supposed to be the happiest time of her life had turned into her biggest nightmare. Would he even want to be near her?
“Lukas workin’ late again?” Zeb asked from behind his crossword puzzle.
Edna dropped her sewing. “Zeb, hush!”
“Don’t you hush me. I thought he’d be hoverin’ around here like he used to, especially with Anna being laid up an all.”
“He had some projects to catch up on,” Anna said.
“I imagine spending time at the hospital put him behind.”
“Zeb!”
“I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” He
put the paper down. “Just statin’ a fact. Life gets in the way of life, you know?” Zeb picked up the crossword puzzle again. “Things happen. Don’t mean it’s anyone’s fault.”
Anna fought back tears. All this was her fault.
“Ocean’s Twelve cast name? What’s an Ocean’s Twelve?” Zeb tossed down the paper. “Last time I do one of those dumm newspaper crosswords.” He slowly stood up, his bony knees cracking. “I’m turning in.”
“But it’s only six-thirty,” Edna said.
“Ya, but these old bones think it’s past ten. Guden Owed, Edna. Anna. Say the same to Lukas for me, will ya? I hope that bu comes by soon, I miss having him around.”
After Zeb left, Anna lifted up her feet and swung them over the couch, settling her head against the pillows. She had just closed her eyes when her mother spoke.
“That was sehr nice of Moriah to bring that tuna casserole by tonight.”
Anna nodded. Since Anna’s return home her mother hadn’t had to prepare dinner, what with members of Lukas’ family and other people from the church stopping by and leaving various dishes and desserts. Anna ate out of politeness, but she had little appetite. And while she appreciated the generosity of her family and neighbors, she had seen the pity in their eyes. Most of them had been at the wedding and had seen her be carried out on a stretcher. They knew she had surgery. She wondered what else they knew? Nothing was private anymore.
“Moriah said she and Elisabeth might come by tomorrow. Would that be all right?”
Anna shrugged. “If they want to.”
“Of course she wants to. Moriah had wanted to stay when she came by earlier but she had to get back and take care of the . . .”
“Kinner. You can say it, Mami.”
“Okay. Kinner. Gabriel had a school board meeting to go to last night. Seems they’ve got to hire a new teacher to take Fraulein Schlabach’s place.”
“But it’s only March. The school year isn’t over until the middle of April.”
“Ya, but she’s getting married this fall.”
“And she’s telling everyone about it?” Anna was surprised. Normally dating couples didn’t broadcast their relationship until closer to the wedding.
“She is. She didn’t want to leave in the middle of the school year after the wedding. So now they’re doing interviews for the next couple weeks or so.”
“I’m sure they’ll find the right person.” Anna put her arm over her forehead, ignoring the dull ache from the incision in her abdomen. The slight pain was nothing compared to the agony she went through when the cyst on her ovary had burst, but she was tired of being in pain, both physically and emotionally.
“I think I’ll do the same as Zeb,” Edna said, setting aside the sewing. “Do you need anything, Anna?”
“I’m fine.”
Edna went to her and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about Lukas. That bu loves you, and he’ll come around. He just needs time.”
Anna didn’t say anything. Her mother left, and she rolled over on her side, wincing as she did. She knew Lukas didn’t need time. Their relationship was over, and she only had herself to blame.
Chapter18
Lukas opened the back door of the house and stepped quietly inside. He slipped off his boots, not wanting to wake anyone up, especially Anna. It was well past ten o’clock, and he knew she’d be sleeping. Guilt mixed with resentment bubbled within him as he crept past her and snuck upstairs.
He walked into his bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light. He quickly undressed and got into bed, weariness seeping through every pore. He’d been putting more than his fair share of hours in at work, trying to keep his mind off his troubles. When Tobias had told him he should go home to his wife, Lukas had told him to mind his own business. Not only was he alienating his new bride, he was alienating his family.
But he couldn’t help it. Anger churned within him. He was sleeping in Anna’s bed, alone. She should be beside him. They should be starting their new life together, sharing their dreams for the future, sharing the intimacies of husband and wife.
And yes, trying for a child. Yet that would never happen. Nothing would be normal. How could it be? He and Anna hadn’t really spoken since she’d come home. For once in his life, he didn’t know what to say. Her betrayal had cut him deeply, and the wound continued to bleed. He longed for things to be the way they were before the wedding, but even then he’d been kept in the dark. He had thought he’d married an honest woman who shared the same hopes and dreams for the future. And maybe she had. But he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Rolling over on his side, he closed his eyes and forced himself not to think of Anna. He failed.
Anna tossed and turned on the couch. She’d heard Lukas going up the stairs, just as she had every night. She could tell he was trying to be quiet, but she could never sleep until he’d come home. Even then, it was elusive. Finally, unable to lie there any longer, she got up and went to the kitchen.
She clicked on the battery-powered lamp but didn’t know what to do next. Hunger wasn’t what drew her here, but she had to do something. She prepared a light snack of two small wedges of smoked Swiss cheese and a few wheat crackers, then sat down at the table and stared at the food.
She heard movement upstairs. Probably her uncle, who usually got up in the middle of the night at least once or twice to use the bathroom. Usually he was a lot louder, but perhaps he decided not to make much of a racket this time.
But it wasn’t Uncle Zeb who walked into the kitchen. It was Lukas.
She glanced up at him, surprised, taking in his tousled black hair, white T-shirt, and broadfall pants that looked like he’d just yanked on a few moments ago. Without the suspenders holding up the trousers, the waistband hung low on his narrow hips.
He paused a moment, then came inside the room. She couldn’t read his impassive expression.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Lukas didn’t look at her as he spoke. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses.
“Nee.” She looked down at her plate of untouched cheese and crackers. There was no warmth in his voice. It was as if she were listening to a stranger.
“Me neither.” He filled one glass, then the other, with water before turning around and striding to the table. “Mind if I join you?”
She nodded.
He placed one glass of water in front of him and the other beside her plate, then sat across from her.
“Danki,” she said in a low voice.
But neither of them took a drink. They didn’t say anything for a long time, the silence that stretched between them further increasing the emotional chasm.
Each time Anna looked up, Lukas was staring at the glass in front of him. The awkwardness continued until she couldn’t take it anymore. She’d rather be fighting sleep on the couch than endure this silent war between them. She moved to pick up her plate.
“We need to talk about this, Anna.”
He was right, of course, but she didn’t know what to say. She rose from her chair and took her food to the trash can, dumping it inside. She poured the water into the sink, then set the glass on the counter next to it.
“Are you going to ignore me, Anna? Or are you going to just wish it all away and ignore everything that happened, just like you tried to do with your condition?”
“That’s not fair,” she mumbled, turning around.
“Not fair?” He shot up from the table, his eyes blazing. “You lied to me, and you’re saying I’m not fair.” He thrust his hand through his hair and started to pace. “I can’t believe this. How could you not trust me and my love for you enough to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“I would have been disappointed, Anna, but not in you. It’s not your fault you have endo . . . endo . . .”
“Endometriosis.”
He grabbed the back of the chair, his knuckles turning white. “If you’d told me—”
“
You would have married me anyway?” Her voice grew shrill, derisive. “Be honest with yourself, Lukas. If I had told you before the wedding about Dr. Caxson’s diagnosis, what would you have said? Would you have called off our wedding?”
He looked at her, his face contorted with pain. “You took that choice away from me.”
The truth of his words slashed at her. Unable to stand the agony in his eyes, she bolted past him, but he grasped her arm and turned her around to face him. “Wait, Anna.” He released her arm, but his gaze kept her planted to the ground. “What about those times we talked about having children. You made me think . . .” His voice caught. “You gave me hope.”
“Don’t you see? That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I had hope too!” Tears ran down her cheeks, and her nose started to burn. “You don’t know how hard I prayed for a miracle. I thought of all the stories in the Bible, all the barren women who couldn’t have children but were blessed with one.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and turned away from him. “That’s all I wanted,” she said. “Just one kinn. Not just for myself. But for you too. Of all the men in the world, you deserved to have your own kinn.”
“We could have prayed together. You didn’t have to suffer alone.” Lukas’s voice sounded raspy.
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing we can do or say will change anything.”
She heard Lukas come up behind her, but when she felt the touch of his hands on her shoulder, she shrugged him off. She didn’t deserve his comfort, not after what she had done. “I’m tired,” she said, and meant it. Her emotional well was tapped dry, and she had no idea how to fill it, or if it would ever be full again. “I’m going back to bed.” She walked out of the kitchen into the darkened living room and lay down on the couch, keeping her back to him. She couldn’t keep the tears from flowing, but she held her breath, not making a sound, hoping he would leave her alone in her misery.
A few moments later her prayer was answered. She heard Lukas walking past her. Closing her eyes tightly, she feigned sleep. She sensed him pause by her for a brief moment, only to turn and tread lightly up the stairs. Only when she heard the door to their bedroom shut did she move, wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 46
