The Wish

by Beverly Lewis

  “Sounds like the letter you wrote to her helped you.”

  “It’s not the first time that’s happened.” Gloria began to explain that the first year after moving away from Lancaster County, she’d kept a daily journal. “And all the while I wrote, I pretended I was talking to you, Leona . . . sharing my sadness and pent-up anger and everything in my mind and heart, whatever came pouring out onto the pages. It was one way I managed to cope, missing you and our close friendship.”

  Leona teared up, hearing this. “Aw, that’s really sweet.”

  “Well, some of it wasn’t, let me tell you. My journaling gave me an outlet to vent my frustration, and I wrote as fast as I could some days. Other times, there was a sense of peace as I began to fit in with the new community of the People there. Either way, I tried to get my emotions down on the page, lest they burst forth elsewhere.” Gloria flung the next rug over the clothesline and began to slap it with her broom.

  Leona waited till she was finished before speaking. “I thought I was alone with my loss when ya left. Strange as this might sound, it helps to know you were going through some of what I experienced.” She choked back her tears. “To think, all the months I waited for your letters, you were actually thinkin’ of me.”

  Gloria reached for her, rug and all, and their brooms toppled to the ground as their tears fell freely.

  Tom waved down Orchard John on his way to work early that morning after dropping Danny off at the smithy’s. He’d stopped in for coffee at one of the shops along his route and was sitting in the spring wagon when he saw John walking toward his open black buggy, a large cup in his hand. “Hullo!” he called to his friend.

  “Wie geht’s, Tom?” Orchard John came over and stood near his wagon.

  “The question is, how are you . . . after your visit with Gloria?” Tom asked.

  John chuckled. “Well, that meddlesome grapevine ’tis faster than the speed of sound.”

  Tom said he’d heard it from Leona. “I’m not gonna lose my gut pal to the world, I hope.” He tried to inject a humorous tone.

  John waved his hand at Tom’s nonsense, not cracking a smile. A moment passed as he stared at his coffee cup. “Confidentially speaking . . . it’s been difficult over the years for me to imagine myself with anyone but Gloria. I’ve considered it many times.”

  Hearing this, Tom felt justified in his concern that her being back in town might pose a setback for his friend.

  John drank some of his coffee, still sandwiched between Tom’s spring wagon and the car next to him. “I’ll be right frank with ya. I plan to keep prayin’ for her, and, ya know, hoping she . . .” John’s voice broke off, and he looked down again.

  He’s definitely in too deep. Tom wished there was a way to reel him back to land before he went plunging over the dam. “You put your toe in the water, and next thing, you’ll be drownin’.”

  “I understand why you’re worried.”

  “You’d say the same if the shoes were on my feet.” Tom studied him. “You know ya would.”

  Meeting his gaze, Orchard John nodded. “True . . . and I’m doin’ my best to appreciate it.” He turned to go and untie his mare at the hitching post. “Have a gut day, Tom!”

  “You too.” Waving, Tom smiled, but all the rest of the drive to work, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Orchard John was already in over his head.

  Once the rugs were carried indoors and put back in their rightful locations, Gloria insisted on helping make some wreaths, so they went to the screened-in porch and began to sort the materials Gloria had already gathered.

  “I don’t know if your mother said anything to you, but she mentioned I was welcome to stay around for Preaching,” Gloria said. “What would you think?”

  “Are you kidding?” Leona loved this. “I think your parents might have something to say about that, though. And what about your job at the diner?”

  “I’ll figure it out. I need to call Hampton and let him know I’ll be back soon.”

  Leona fretted a bit, wondering if Gloria’s employment might be in jeopardy.

  “Well, if I do stay for church, can you loan me one of your dresses? I wouldn’t want to needlessly offend anyone.”

  “Of course! The sleeves might be a little short, since you’re taller.” Leona grinned. She was relieved and more than a little excited about possibly seeing Gloria dressed Plain again.

  “Also, your mother said you saw the deacon last evening,” Gloria said as she put glue on several dried berries, which she then affixed to the wreath.

  “I thought he should know directly from me that you’re stayin’ with us.” She hoped Gloria wouldn’t press for more details, and began to tie a bow for the bottom of the wreath.

  “Don’t wanna be a nuisance.”

  “How could that be?”

  “To be honest, my father’s shunning, and the reasons behind it, are so embarrassing to me, Leona. Absolutely humiliating.”

  “You can’t carry that around forever,” she said softly, stopping her work to reach to touch Gloria. “Ain’t yours to bear.”

  “But it’s there all the same.”

  Leona wished she could snap her fingers and free her friend of the nagging guilt. The pride . . .

  And as they worked, she thanked God for Gloria’s interest in staying for Sunday. It was another step forward—the biggest, of course, was driving here in the first place.

  CHAPTER

  36

  Gloria enjoyed browsing in Maggie’s Country Store that afternoon. She could overhear Leona telling Maggie that she and Gloria had made some wreaths, and did Maggie want to display them?

  “Sure, why not?” Maggie replied. “Unless you think you’ll take away from your mother and aunt’s trade at the Quarryville farmers market.”

  “Well, it’s gut to spread them around a bit, jah?” Leona said.

  Gloria admired several pretty handmade candles, picking them up and eyeing them closely. She chose a soft blue one for her mother, a souvenir of the trip.

  Searching through other items, her conversation with Leona played over in her mind, and she wished she hadn’t shared quite so much. Feeling chagrined, she instead focused her attention on the many appealing gift options Maggie had in stock.

  Just then, she remembered that this was the day Adam was scheduled to move out of the house, which wouldn’t take long, given his few things. She laughed, amused at the idea of her brother and his roommate fending for themselves.

  Leona looked over at her, frowning, then smiling. “You all right?” she mouthed.

  “I’m fine,” Gloria replied, searching through a display of fanciful potpourri sachets, settling on one similar to the gift Orchard John had given her. When she’d made her choices, she told Leona she’d see her at supper and slipped out to the car.

  Gloria drove out of the parking lot and headed for the main road. She had felt carefree and tranquil while roaming about the clearing, gathering materials for the wreaths. But it wasn’t an option for her to escape there whenever she felt the need for peace. Seeing Orchard John last evening had also brought a sense of calmness, even rightness, but she wasn’t going to seek him out for more of the same. It wouldn’t be fair to raise his hopes.

  Instead, she drove around the area, reliving the troubling years, creeping along past the ministers’ homes, which only reminded her of her father’s outstanding debts to various farmers here. Especially Deacon Ebersol. Since Monday, her idea had grown from a tiny seed to a fully mature plan.

  She returned to Leona’s parents’ house, parking near the Dawdi Haus out of respect for their family. Leaving her purchases in the car, she got out and strolled to the barn, wanting to see the new calf again.

  “Why am I so restless?” she murmured while observing the new calf eagerly drinking milk from a bucket, making slurping sounds. Sunshine poured into the indoor pen. She enjoyed being around the livestock, watching springtime’s new life in a farm setting. She felt closer to God’s creation on a fa
rm than anywhere, really.

  Something I would never enjoy again if I marry Darren. . . .

  After a few minutes, Gloria wandered back to the house, but Millie was nowhere in sight. She walked to the front porch steps and sat there thinking perhaps today would be a good time to see the deacon. But she guessed Sunday was better for Pete, busy farmer that he was. Just so I meet with him before I leave, she told herself.

  Random thoughts skittered through her mind, and she watched the clouds drift aimlessly across the sky. Like my life, she thought regretfully. Where do I see myself in ten years . . . twenty? Can I manage being English for the rest of my days?

  She leaned back on the steps and gazed at the fields across the road to the south of Pete’s farmhouse. Certainly, she would miss the beauty and harmony of the countryside if she married Darren and moved to town, but weren’t there advantages to living in the hub of things?

  Yet there was Darren himself. Sure, he was good-looking and charming . . . well-off, too. But he could be impatient and presumptuous. Besides, she wasn’t in any hurry to get married.

  Dad’s pushy, too, she realized.

  She heard someone whistling and was surprised to see Orchard John walking this way, carrying a book. He waved to her, and she had to smile.

  We just keep running into each other, she thought. Not that she minded.

  “I took a chance you’d be here,” he called as he came up the driveway toward the porch. “Got a minute?”

  “Sure.” She nodded. “You must’ve finished work early.”

  “Oh, there’s always something to be done at the orchard. And I’ll get back to it soon enough.” He reached the steps, and she saw that the book in his hand was Rules of a Godly Life.

  “Mind if I sit, Gloria?”

  She shook her head.

  He laughed just then. “Right out here in front for everyone and their brother to see.” John handed her the book. “I wasn’t sure if you still had a copy of this.”

  She eyed the front cover. “I do, but I left it back home. It’s been a long while since I’ve read it.”

  “Maybe you could crack it open in your free time while you’re here.” He glanced over his shoulder at the house. “Is Millie around?”

  “Pete’s home, but Millie may be out somewhere. I’m just waiting for Leona to return home from work so we can make supper before taking Brownie to Mahlon and Maggie’s for a visit.”

  “Speaking of that dog, where is he?”

  “Haven’t seen him most of the day.”

  “Well, what do ya say we find him?” John rose quickly, brushing off the seat of his pants.

  “He’s likely in the stable. There’s a bed for him near the horses.” She wondered why John would risk being seen with her. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Why not?” His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “We’re just two old friends.”

  “All right, then.” Picking up the book, she walked with him to the stable, then around the house, looking in all directions for Brownie. Gloria was fairly certain he wasn’t in any danger of being lost, but she didn’t mind another opportunity to spend time with John, now that he was here.

  Leona’s grandfather was sitting on his rocking chair on the back porch. “Hullo there, Gloria.” Then he spotted John. “Well, if it isn’t my grandson, Orchard Johnny!”

  His face turned red at the youthful nickname. He went over and shook hands. “Wie geht’s, Dawdi?”

  “Oh, fair to middlin’.” Benuel’s eyes darted between them. “Didn’t expect to see yous together.”

  “We’re searching for Brownie,” Gloria explained. “Have you seen him?”

  “Well, he was in the barn with Pete and me just a while ago. I suspect he’s fine.” He gave them another look. “Come, why don’t you pull up a chair.” He motioned to two vacant rockers.

  Orchard John glanced at Gloria, who nodded. “Maybe Brownie will show up on his own,” he suggested, then offered Gloria the chair next to Benuel.

  “I daresay it’s another day made to order.” Benuel tugged on his black suspenders. “Mighty nice sittin’ here in shirt sleeves.”

  John sat down, nodding. “The Farmer’s Almanac predicts a long, hot summer.”

  “The weather’s in God’s hands, so we never complain,” Benuel said with a glance at Gloria, his gaze taking in her floral skirt and open-toed sandals. He did a double-take at the book John had given her.

  “Maybe we’ll have some rain later,” said John, looking at the sky.

  “That’ll bring Brownie home right quick,” Gloria said, enjoying the company. Better than sitting alone waiting for Leona . . .

  She realized unexpectedly that once she left for home, she would most likely have little contact with Leona. I’ll lose her again. The thought was nearly unbearable.

  Benuel broke the silence. “Millie said you were sewin’.”

  This surprised her. “I offered to help with her new dress—loved every minute of it.”

  Benuel bobbed his head. “If ya ask me, it seems you and your family did the wrong thing, leavin’ the Old Ways behind.”

  You’re not kidding, Gloria thought. “And now it’s too late,” she said, her hands gripping the book on her lap.

  “Ach, if you’re on the wrong road, the sooner ya turn round, the better,” Benuel reassured her.

  Orchard John nodded his agreement, and Gloria knew she was outnumbered. “Joining any church is supposed to be a result of a person’s free will, right?” she asked.

  Benuel said it was. “An outcome of following in the Lord’s footsteps—His calling.”

  “Once I made the decision for baptism, it was a joyful thing,” Orchard John interjected. “I chose it freely . . . gladly.”

  “There was a time in Arkansas when I planned to take my baptismal vow,” Gloria admitted. “I even started the classes. But when my father left that church, I followed him, just like the rest of my family.” What had gotten into her, speaking up like this? Part of her yearned to hear more about Jesus’ footsteps, as Benuel had put it, but another part of her was pulling hard away from any further talk in this vein. “I feel torn,” she said softly, looking away lest she cry.

  “The Holy Spirit nudges earnest souls toward Him,” Orchard John said, still rocking in his chair.

  There was a faraway look in Benuel’s eyes. “I had such a time as a youth—der Deiwel tried to keep me from doin’ what I knew was right. ’Twas just a little younger than you when I fought with all this, knowing the Lord Gott was workin’ on my heart.”

  Such frank talk; Gloria hardly knew how to react. From what Benuel was saying, it seemed that he understood what she was experiencing, even though it had been many decades ago.

  “You’re not alone, Gloria.” Orchard John cast a compassionate look her way. “There are many young people who take their time deciding on baptism.”

  “It’s a vow for life,” Benuel said solemnly. “Not to be made flippantly.”

  She nodded. “I came here to think and get things straightened out in my head,” Gloria confessed to them. “For a long time, I’ve felt like I’m caught between two worlds.”

  Benuel stopped rocking and folded his gnarled hands in his lap.

  “I’m mighty sure our deacon would welcome a visit from you,” Orchard John said. “Seems to me it’d be worthwhile. And the book I gave ya is mighty helpful, too.”

  She patted the book. “Before I leave, I’ll reread it.”

  Just then, Brownie came running through the meadow. He barked playfully when he spotted them, then sniffed his way through the grass in front of Benuel’s little porch, almost right up to the porch steps. Without warning, he turned and darted around the side of the house, disappearing once more. “Those pesky little bunnies must be livin’ under there again,” Benuel observed with a chuckle.

  “I’m sure Brownie can take care of that.” Orchard John grinned.

  Former farm girl though she was, Gloria grimaced at the thought. “Guess it’s u
p to me to stop him, then.” Gloria jumped off her chair and hurried around the house, calling for Brownie.

  The sun was low in the sky when Gloria drove Leona over to see Samuel, Sadie, and Marianna. Brownie sat on Leona’s lap in the front passenger seat, his head and tongue hanging out the open window.

  “Your nephew might not remember me,” Gloria said.

  “Samuel was just about six when ya left.”

  “Yes, well, Marianna was still a toddler.”

  “It’s awful nice, you wanting to visit my brother’s family,” Leona told her.

  Gloria decided to elaborate more on Orchard John’s visit, since Benuel had spilled the beans at supper earlier, saying he’d had an “unlikely couple” drop by today. “Just so you know, your cousin only came by to loan me a book,” she said.

  “Which one?” Leona asked.

  Gloria told her and waited for a dramatic response, but Leona was quiet, and Gloria wondered if she’d known about it prior to John’s visit.

  She suppressed a smile. They’re doing their best to bring me back into the fold. . . .

  Leona laughed and clapped her hands as, through the kitchen window, she watched her nephew and nieces romp and play with Brownie while Maggie popped corn kernels on the gas burner. Gloria joined Leona at the window to observe the children, too.

  “I’m giving Leona the day off tomorrow and Friday so yous can do as ya please,” Maggie said, still wearing the nice rust-colored dress and black apron she’d had on earlier at the shop.

  “You didn’t have to,” Gloria was quick to say. “I can entertain myself.”

  “Well, I want to,” Maggie replied, shaking the pan. “Yous have a lot to catch up on, I’m sure.”

  Leona smiled. “You’re a dear, Maggie. I couldn’t have a more understanding sister-in-law—or boss,” she added with a wink.

  “You two go on outside with the children,” Maggie urged them. “I’ll join yous in a jiffy.”

  Leona and Gloria went out onto the porch, where they leaned on the railing to watch the fun. Gloria pointed and laughed as Brownie chased Marianna round and round a tree, the little girl’s light brown pigtails flying.