by Leslie Gould
“Is Dat around?” Lila asked Beth.
“He’s in the barn.” Beth wiped her hands on her apron. “Would you like me to go get him?”
Lila nodded her head. She didn’t want the man to think that he could bully her, not the way the other insurance man had.
Mr. Stark asked her to tell him what she remembered from the day of the accident. She told him she was as far over on the shoulder of the road as she could be when she sensed a vehicle behind her, although she didn’t actually see it. She described everything she could remember up until she lost consciousness.
Dat came in and introduced himself to Mr. Stark, while Beth poured a cup of coffee for him.
Mr. Stark asked Lila what she remembered when she came to. “Zane,” she answered.
“Zane?”
“We were to marry in October, so a month after the accident.”
“But you haven’t?”
She shook her head. “I’m still healing.”
“What exactly do you remember when you came to?”
“I just knew he was there, at the accident site. It gave me faith that I would make it. By the time I was in the ambulance, I was awake enough to ask for him.”
Mr. Stark scribbled in his book and then asked, “Can you tell me about your injuries?”
“Jah,” she said, listing them off. The crushed pelvis. The ruptured spleen. The bruised bladder and liver. The internal scarring. The concussion.
“Anything else?” he asked, lifting his eyes from his notebook and meeting hers.
“Time will tell on some of it.”
“Meaning?”
“Whether I’ll be able to get pregnant and then carry a child or not.”
The man didn’t respond but continued writing in his notebook. Both Dat and Beth were quiet for a long moment, but then Dat asked the man if he lived nearby.
The man nodded. “In Lancaster,” he said. “But I grew up in the country, near Willow Street.”
“So you know our ways, then?”
“Yes,” Mr. Stark answered.
“Lila is a good driver,” Dat said. “She read that guidebook the county put out a while back, the one on buggy driving. She’s cautious and careful. She’s been driving for years and never had a problem.”
The man wrote down a few more things.
“Did you go to the accident site?” Dat asked. “And do the measurements?”
“I’m doing that next,” the man said.
“Do you have the information on where the buggy ended up, in pieces? And where Lila ended up in the creek? With the horse on top of her?”
The man said he had the police report.
“Make sure and do the measurements,” Dat said. “A friend of ours did all of that a few weeks ago. That’s why the police reopened the investigation.”
“I see.” Mr. Stark closed his notebook and then said, “Thank you for the coffee and bread. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in an Amish home.” He smiled. “Growing up, I had neighbors who were Plain. All of us kids went to the same school, and we all rode our horses together. They were good neighbors.”
“Gut,” Dat said. “That’s what we like to hear. We aim to be the same.”
Lila felt grateful that Dat had come in. He related to the man in a way she couldn’t. And he’d told the man things she wouldn’t have thought to.
The man rattled off Shani and Joel’s number. “Is that a good number to leave a message?”
“No,” Dat said. “Use ours instead.” He gave the man the phone number in the barn and then shook the man’s hand. “Denki,” he said. “We’re very appreciative.”
“Du wellkome,” the man said and then smiled. “Denki to you too.”
As Dat walked the man out, tears welled in Lila’s eyes. She knew Dat cared for her. He’d just shown it. But she still didn’t feel it deep inside.
Nearly two weeks later, on a Saturday, Lila, Zane, and Shani sat in a diner in Randallstown, Maryland, waiting to meet Butch and his mother.
The waitress came around and filled their coffee cups. “Do you want to go ahead and order?” she asked.
Zane and Shani both looked at Lila. “How about another ten minutes?” she asked, hoping traffic had been bad and it wasn’t that they’d changed their minds. The waitress nodded and went on to her next table. They’d already been drinking coffee for thirty minutes. Lila wiped her palms on her apron. She’d started using a cane, one of Joel’s, instead of the crutches, and it was propped against the table. She grabbed it and stood.
“You all right?” Zane asked.
“Jah,” she said. “I just need to stretch a little.” As she settled back down a young man with blond hair came through the front door along with a middle-aged woman. She knew it was Butch. He looked like Daniel—not exactly but enough to be brothers. She started to wave, but they’d already started toward her. She and Zane were the only Plain folk in the restaurant.
Butch stopped and his mother took the lead. She was petite and had short dark hair with a hint of gray and big blue eyes. When she reached Lila she said, “I’m Connie Wilson. You must be Lila.”
Lila extended her hand but the woman bent over some and wrapped her arm around Lila’s shoulder, squeezing her a little. “It’s wonderful to meet you. This is my son, Butch.”
Butch stepped closer and nodded. He appeared younger than nineteen and shier than he’d sounded on the phone.
“Hello,” Lila said, reaching for his hand. “This is my fiancé, Zane, and his mom, Shani.”
After everyone said a greeting, Connie and Butch sat down. “I’m curious,” Connie said. “How does this work?” She glanced from Shani to Zane.
“You mean how does it work that Zane is Amish and I’m not?” Shani asked.
The woman nodded and then smiled.
“I joined the Amish,” Zane said. “Last year.” He met Lila’s eyes. “For all sorts of reasons.”
She hoped he was still thankful he had.
After a couple of minutes of conversation, the waitress took their order. When she left, Connie said, “Where should we start?”
Lila cleared her throat and tried to speak but nothing came out. Zane reached for her hand and squeezed it. She tried again. “All the information I have is that my birth father’s name was Butch Wilson, that he was from Virginia, and that he was in Lancaster County in the early 1990s.”
She looked at Butch Jr. “You’re the only person I contacted who thought you might know . . .” She looked from Butch to Connie. “This must be hard for you. I’m really sorry for what both of you have gone through. My Mamm passed on when I was eleven. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love.”
“Thank you,” Connie said. “Our situation might be a little different than yours was. Butch Sr.—Butch’s father—left our family almost ten years ago. We didn’t have much contact with him. He traveled, down to Louisiana and then up to Alaska. He was on his way to Wyoming when he died.”
Lila wasn’t sure what to say.
Shani leaned forward across the table. “What happened?”
“A heart attack,” Connie said. “He was only forty-one.”
“So there might be some sort of genetic component.”
Connie glanced at her son. “Yes,” she said. “We’ve talked with a couple of doctors about it.” She turned her gaze back to Lila. “That’s one of the reasons we wanted to meet with you. So you and your brother would know.”
Lila felt her legs weaken.
“I’m sure other things contributed to Butch Sr.’s health problems though. Let’s just say he lived a rough life—lots of drinking, some drugs. He smoked. He worked hard, mostly manual labor.” Connie took a deep breath and then continued. “He never took care of himself. He wasn’t a big man, but his blood pressure was always high, even in his early thirties.”
Again Lila wasn’t sure what to say. None of this was what she expected.
“What was he like, as a person?” Shani asked.
Connie
smiled again and glanced at her son. He shrugged. “He wasn’t all bad,” she said and then laughed a little. “I married him.” She paused a moment. “He was a lot of fun, always ready for an adventure. He loved to travel. He hunted some. He jumped around as far as jobs, but he was a hard worker. And after he left for good, he sent money to help with support. He cared, but he just couldn’t seem to stay connected.” Connie smiled, a little wryly. “All those years I left the phone in his name, not wanting to be listed as a single woman. I was thinking about getting rid of the landline when you called. I’m glad I didn’t.”
Lila exhaled. She might never have found them.
Connie leaned onto the table. “Can you tell me about your mom?”
Lila wasn’t sure she could without crying. She wished Eve had come with them. She swallowed hard. “She was only seventeen when Daniel and I were born. She was Amish, although her parents became Mennonite later. She had us and then married Dat. Together they had three more children—Simon, Rose, and Trudy. When Mamm was pregnant with Trudy she was diagnosed with breast cancer.”
“Oh dear,” Connie said.
“Jah, she didn’t do any chemo until after Trudy was born. By then it was too late. She died two months later.”
“I’m so sorry,” Connie said.
“Thank you,” Lila said. She looked from Connie to Butch Jr. “I’m sorry for everything you two have been through too.”
Butch Jr. stared at the table, but Connie said, “Thank you.” And then she said, “What did your mother tell you about your biological father?”
“Nothing,” Lila said. “I found out his name from my aunt. She knew Butch too.”
“Oh? Is she also Amish?”
Lila nodded. “She used to be—she’s Mennonite now. My Aenti Eve is my Dat’s sister, but she was also my Mamm’s best friend.”
As Lila spoke, Connie opened her purse and pulled out a photograph. “This is the reason we wanted to meet with you. After he died, I found this in a box Butch Sr. left behind. I’ve wondered about it.” She handed the photograph to Lila.
It was Aenti Eve and Mamm, looking young and sassy but wearing cape dresses and Kappa. In between them was a man with blond hair who looked a lot like Daniel.
“That’s them,” Lila said. “My Mamm and my Aenti.”
“Then Butch is your father,” Connie said. “But it sounds as if someone else has been your Dat—is that how you referred to him earlier?”
Lila nodded.
“Has he been a good father to you? Cared for you? Loved you?”
Lila swallowed hard. “Jah,” she said. “He has.” The tears started, and she couldn’t stop them, as hard as she tried.
Zane took her hand, and Shani passed her a tissue. She kept crying. Zane scooted his chair closer and wrapped his arms around her just as the waitress arrived with their food. Lila knew she was making a spectacle of herself. She took a couple of deep breaths and then apologized.
Connie shook her head. “No need to be sorry.” Then she said, “Do you pray before you eat?”
Zane nodded. “Silently though.”
“We’ll follow your lead,” she said.
They all bowed their heads. Lila thanked God for the information, for Connie, and for Butch’s willingness to meet with her, and for the truth.
“Amen,” Zane said.
The women echoed him. Butch still hadn’t said anything. Lila turned toward him. “What are you studying in school?”
“General studies right now,” he said. His face reddened as he spoke. “But I hope to major in philosophy and then go on to graduate school.”
That piqued Zane’s interest, and the two began talking about different philosophers. Shani asked Connie what she did for a living.
“I’m a surgical assistant.”
“Really?” Shani said. “I’m a nurse. Pediatrics.”
Lila was relieved to focus on eating her food as she listened to the others talk, wondering at her public tears. It wasn’t like her. She hadn’t been herself since the accident.
After they’d finished eating, Shani picked up the bill, under protest from the others. “I insist,” she said.
As Shani walked toward the cashier, a wave of gratitude swept over Lila as she glanced around the table. Zane was sticking by her despite his frustration. She had a new brother. And Connie was a good, kind woman. Her biological father had been loved, even if he couldn’t accept it. “What was Butch Sr.’s family like?” Lila asked.
“Oh,” Connie said. “That’s an even sadder story. His mother died young and his father was an alcoholic. He was in and out of foster care. Later he reconciled with his father, but soon after they met his father died of a heart attack.” She raised her eyebrows as she spoke. “Hard living again, but also the possibility of a genetic problem.”
Lila nodded. It was good to have that information. It made her more sympathetic toward Butch Sr.
A few minutes later they all stood in the parking lot, saying good-bye. “May I hug you?” Connie asked.
Lila nodded as tears filled her eyes again. The woman patted her back as if she were a child and then stepped away.
Lila turned toward Butch Jr. “May I hug you?”
His face turned red, but he nodded. She gave him a half hug, still holding onto her cane, and said, “I always wanted another brother.”
He pulled away and, looking down at her, his face even redder, said, “I always wanted a sister. And a brother too.”
Lila wished Daniel was with her. She didn’t expect him to change his mind, but she believed, if he actually met Butch Jr., he might.
A few weeks later, after church, Lila and Zane headed back to Juneberry Lane in his buggy. A foot of snow covered the landscape, but the roads were all plowed. It was well below freezing, but it had been dry the last few days. Zane turned the buggy onto the lane and slowed. “Want to come down to Mom and Dad’s?” Zane asked
“No, I’m ready for a nap,” Lila said.
Zane didn’t respond but pulled into the driveway. He stopped in front of her house but didn’t hop down to help her. She opened the door, as if she might get down by herself.
“I need to ask you something,” he said.
She closed the door.
“When will you start talking with me again?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve shut me out, mostly, since the accident. I got it at first. You were injured, badly. Then when you were recovering, Rose revealed she was pregnant and moved out. Then you had the stuff about your biological father. I get all that.” He turned toward her. “But do you plan to come back? Do you plan to ever marry me? Has something changed?” He blinked quickly. “I know I sound like a jerk. I don’t mean to. I just wonder what you’re thinking. Maybe you’ve changed your mind, and you just can’t tell me.”
“No,” she said. “I haven’t changed my mind. It’s just . . .”
“What? What is it?”
She thought of their little house, of Zane living in it alone. She glanced down at the cane she was still using. “I need more time,” she said. She should at least be able to get upstairs in their house before they married.
Zane exhaled and started to say something more.
She shook her head. “I need to take a nap.”
“Need to or want to?”
She swung the door open without a reply. He came around and helped her down and then up to the house, leaving her once she was inside. Dat, Beth, and Trudy probably wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. Lila headed to her room and crawled into bed. She wasn’t being fair to Zane. She knew it. “Lord,” she prayed, “what’s wrong with me?”
Her thoughts went to the day before the accident, to right before Zane showed her their house. She’d feared maybe she depended on Zane too much. She thought perhaps she had a lesson to learn, something to teach her to trust God more and Zane less. She never dreamt it would be an accident.
Tears stung her eyes. Zane was still her person, but she was
n’t treating him that way. Part of her was afraid he wouldn’t stick around if it turned out she couldn’t have children—but she knew that was irrational. They wouldn’t know until they married, and she knew Zane wouldn’t leave. No matter what.
She swiped at her eyes. She hadn’t learned to trust God more, despite what she’d gone through. She’d shut down. Her soul was as broken as her body.
She woke up to Trudy patting her arm. “Zane’s here. He wants to speak with you.” The light in the room had shifted, and Lila guessed it was four thirty or so. At first she wanted to tell Trudy to ask Zane to leave, but she didn’t. She remembered her thoughts before going to sleep.
“I’ll be right out,” she said.
When she reached the living room, Zane sat talking with Dat. “Hello,” he said.
She smiled at him.
Dat stood. “I’ll go see if I can help Beth.”
Lila sat down beside Zane.
“I’m sorry.” Zane put his hands on his knees. “For what I said earlier.”
“No, you’re right. Maybe I’m a little depressed,” she said.
“You have reason to be,” he said. “But—”
“Did you drive your buggy over?”
He nodded. He’d been trying to take Billie out every chance he could.
“We could go for a ride,” Lila said.
“All right,” Zane said. “It’s cold though. Will you be warm enough?”
She nodded. “We don’t have to go far.” She couldn’t talk freely in the house.
Ten minutes later, bundled in her warm winter coat, bonnet, scarf, and mittens, she sat in the buggy with a wool blanket tucked around her. Dusk was falling and the setting sun coming through the thin gray clouds cast a bluish hue over Juneberry Lane. Perhaps it would snow again soon.
Once Billie turned onto the highway, Lila said, “I know I’ve been distant—I’m sorry. I think maybe I’ve figured some of it out.”
Zane glanced toward her, his eyes heavy.
“I need to do a better job trusting God. I’ve been so numb since the accident.”
“Are you still taking the pain pills?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t, not for a long time. But I’ve just been going through the motions. Not opening up to you or to God or to anyone, really. I’ll work on that.”
