An Unlikely Match

by Beth Wiseman

  “That’s gut.” She flicked the reins and picked up the pace.

  Jayce waited for her to push him to talk more. Because that’s what women do. But she remained respectfully quiet, as if just allowing him to stay within himself. A part of him was screaming to get out, to spill everything about his horrible day. He wasn’t sure he could do it without crying. And he never cried.

  But today his father had taken a chunk of his heart and squeezed so hard that Jayce felt physically ill from verbal abuse. Just thinking about it made him want to cry. He needed to focus on something else to get through this dinner, which now felt like a chore.

  “How was your day?” It was generic, but maybe she had something to share.

  “It was fine. Uneventful.” She glanced at him and smiled. “Where would you like to eat?”

  “You pick.” He heard the distance, the snap in his tone, so he cleared his throat. “Anything is fine with me. Really.”

  “There’s a pizza place that isn’t far.” She didn’t look at him this time. Most likely she was regretting her decision to join him for dinner, or what she called supper. He’d learned the noon meal was referred to as dinner.

  “Pizza sounds great.” Hard as he tried to sound chipper, he was failing.

  He still expected her to pry, to ask what was wrong, but she remained quiet, and Jayce found the sound of the horse hooves striking the gravel in perfect rhythm to be soothing.

  When they arrived at the restaurant, he waited while she tethered her horse to a post. He supposed when there were so many Amish people in the area, either you provided a place to tie the horses or you lost business.

  Inside, they were seated at a booth and handed menus. After they chose to share a pepperoni pizza and each ordered iced tea, Jayce slouched into the seat and leaned back.

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m not in the best mood.” He raised an eyebrow, almost daring her to ask him about it.

  “We can’t be in a gut mood all the time.” She smiled before taking a sip of tea.

  This woman had more patience than any of the therapists Jayce’s father had sent him to over the years. The appointments had usually ended with a quick diagnosis and a prescription that made him tired.

  Surely some small talk was coming, something to break what was becoming an awkward silence. But Evelyn spread her napkin on her lap, took another sip of tea, and continued to be quiet with a saintly smile.

  “My father said some horrible things to me today. But I didn’t want tonight to be about my relationship with my dad. I wanted you and me to have a good time, to just chill and get to know each other.” He pounded a fist against his chest. “But I am so uptight, and I’ve been so upset, I feel like I might explode. Or cry.” He shook his head. “So instead of burdening you, I’m just apologizing, and I’m hoping you won’t judge me by this one night.”

  Her eyes took on the twinkle he’d noticed before when she was contemplating what to say, as if putting all of her heart and soul into it. “Jayce, only God judges us. And all too often, we judge ourselves. I’m here because I choose to be. If you want to talk about your day, I will listen, but never judge. If you don’t want to tell me about it, if it’s too painful right now, I understand that too.” She paused. “But friends take the gut with the bad.”

  He held her gaze. “Is that what we are—friends?”

  “It’s all we can be,” she was quick to say.

  He stared into her eyes. She felt safe, for reasons he couldn’t explain. “I hate my life.” It was blunt and to the point, but it pretty much summed things up. “If it were up to me, I’d just stay here and never go back to LA.”

  The waitress came and put a pepperoni pizza between them and handed out two plates. They each slid a slice onto their plates, but neither Jayce nor Evelyn made a move to take a bite.

  “Only you can change your life,” she said before she peeled a pepperoni off her pizza and nibbled on it. “But I don’t think you would be happy here. It’s too different from what you’re used to.”

  “Exactly. It’s different from all I’ve ever known and disliked.” He took a bite, swallowed, and said, “I’ve been on vacations to all kinds of places. Even overseas. But that’s what they were—vacations. This is a way of life. Simpler, slower, and somehow less confusing.”

  “You’ve only been here a week and a half. That’s not long enough to get to know a place or the people.” She finally quit picking at the pepperonis and took a full bite.

  “You’re right. But there seems to be a sense of family here that I’ve never known. My relationship with my father is horrible, and my mother wasn’t exactly the best role model either. I don’t want to be a grown man who blames everything on his parents. I take responsibility for my own actions. I never should have hit that guy and gone to jail. I don’t usually admit it, but in some ways I’ve become a pro at holding my temper. I can’t even count the number of times I felt the back side of my dad’s hand. Until one day I got older and strong enough to grab his arm before it made contact. Now he just lashes out at me verbally. I doubt that’s how you grew up.”

  “It’s not.” She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “But I had to pick a switch plenty of times and was dragged out to the woodshed where spankings were carried out. We weren’t spared the rod, as I’ve heard it said. But I grew up in a loving family. We work hard, we love deeply, and we worship Gott. I don’t understand how you grew up, and I’m sorry for you. But even here many times kinner—children—showed up at school with black eyes or bruises in other places, and I know they didn’t hit their head on the coffee table or fall down the stairs. Family abuse and sin are everywhere, and our community isn’t immune. Ya, we probably live simpler, but not necessarily slower.” She shrugged. “Maybe in some ways. We aren’t slaves to a lot of the modern gadgets people today have. But you can’t assume a change in scenery alters what is in here.” She laid a hand on her heart. “I think you have to reconcile your emotions with your environment.”

  Jayce stared at her. “How is it that you can be so wise with only an eighth-grade education? Because”—he set down his second piece of pizza—“I’ve been to therapists with nearly a decade of education, who charge hundreds of dollars per hour, and they haven’t made as much sense as you have in the past ten minutes.”

  “Then pay up,” she said around a mouthful of food. Then she smiled, and Jayce actually laughed. He was somehow lighter around her, as if all the burdens he carried like lead on his shoulders had lost their heaviness.

  “I could just stay here, you know. Nothing is keeping me in California.” It was true. He’d distanced himself from most of his friends who were living a lifestyle that wasn’t attractive to him anymore.

  “Ya, you could stay here. Just make sure you do it for the right reasons.” She put her hand over her heart. “You have to fix this just as much as your physical surroundings.”

  “I don’t know how to do that. My relationship with my father weighs me down more than anything. It seems like physical distance from him would help heal what’s inside.” He was finally ready to tell her what had happened.

  “Usually my dad takes every available opportunity to embarrass or humiliate me in front of people. This trip, it’s been the crew and actors. But today we weren’t around anyone when he laid into me about not getting on the boat. They needed an extra set of arms to hold some lights above the deepest part of the water. They were a person short. He used words I’m not going to repeat, but it was the most demeaning he’d ever been to me, even since I was a kid.”

  He wasn’t about to retell the conversation in its entirety. His father had used words that would really offend Evelyn, probably some she’d never heard before, and he certainly didn’t want to have to explain the meaning. “And despite everything, I pray. I pray all the time. I believe in the power of prayer, but I’m wondering when God is going to give me a little direction about how to change my life. I’m not sure just moving out of my dad’s place is going to do it.” H
e shook his head.

  * * *

  Evelyn knew it was not her responsibility to minister to others, but Jayce’s undeniable pain screamed for answers. Answers she couldn’t give him.

  “God answers our prayers in ways we can’t foresee, in His time frame. I wish I could tell you what to do, or even say something to make you feel better. But it’s your journey, Jayce.” She gently tugged on her ear. “Listen for the voice of Gott. Sometimes His words are subtle, but the more time you spend in tune with Him, the easier it becomes to hear His wisdom.”

  Without realizing it she was ministering to Jayce, but the words weren’t her own. God had led her into this man’s life for a reason. They had little hope of ever being more than friends, no matter how attracted they were to each other. But Evelyn had small stepping-stones on the path that was Jayce’s journey. She wasn’t going to abandon the trail.

  “I am really going to try to do that.” He reached for a third slice of pizza.

  “On a positive note, you never seem to lose your appetite, no matter your situation or mood.” She laughed.

  “Ha-ha.” He smiled. “I figure I’d better fill up in case Rose gets turned loose in the kitchen again. It’s like a race for me, Lizzie, or Esther to get to the kitchen before Rose starts a meal.”

  “I spent some time with her today before you returned to the inn. I think she fancies you.” She playfully batted her eyes at him, just to see his reaction.

  “She can fancy me—” A flash of humor crossed his face. “That’s a cute word, by the way. She can fancy me all she wants. She’s not my type.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Lord, forgive me.” Locking eyes with Evelyn, he said, “She never shuts up. I mean, never.”

  “She does talk a lot, but she’ll find her mate.” Relief that she shouldn’t have felt washed over Evelyn.

  “Probably someone who never says a word or barely talks.” He flinched. “I didn’t intend for that to sound mean. She’s just not my type. You’re my type.” His eyes widened, as did hers. “Oh wow. I can’t believe I just said that. I mean, it’s true, but wow.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I guess it’s because that awkward kiss still dances around in my mind.”

  Evelyn covered her face with her hands. “I’ll never understand how I let that happen.” She giggled. “I’m surprised you ever wanted to see me again.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m still waiting for a chance to perfect it, when we’re both willing participants.”

  She wadded up her napkin and threw it at him before looking around to make sure no one saw.

  Surprisingly, he caught it with one hand. “You know what?”

  She waited, her heart pounding at the thought of kissing him properly. “I would do anything to be able to get in that boat Monday and prove to my father I’m not half the words he called me, just because some enclosed places freak me out.” His face turned red. “I’d do anything to just step into one of those boats like it was no big deal.”

  “If you want to do it, do it for yourself.” She paused. “I could go with you as a practice run, if you want. I have a friend who is a guide there. Hardly anyone goes on the morning tours, and I’m sure I could convince him to take us by ourselves. And I’d be with you. Maybe you wouldn’t feel all that pressure with your father around and the entire crew. But, Jayce . . . if you aren’t comfortable with the idea, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I was just thinking we’d have mei friend there guiding us, so it wouldn’t be like being on a boat with a dozen other people. He could turn the boat around and go back at any time. There would be no one to keep you inside the cave.”

  “Really?” He gazed into her eyes. Even though she was disappointed he’d veered from the conversation about the kiss, the way he was looking at her now felt even more intimate. “You would do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “No.” He shook his head hard. “We can’t.”

  “I completely understand, and—”

  “No. You don’t understand. Giovanni said he saw bats in the cave today.”

  Evelyn’s stomach began to churn. She’d always gone to the caves when she was younger during the heat of the summer because the bats were said to mostly be inside the cavern during the winter. It was spring, so she had assumed there wouldn’t be anything that flew inside. She sat taller. “Then we face our fears together.”

  “No. I can’t let you do that. You’re not having near the issues I am at the moment. You’ll face your fear of flying things when you’re ready.”

  Evelyn knew she’d never be ready, and the opportunity was staring her in the face, with pleading eyes he probably didn’t know he was showing. “Don’t you think I get embarrassed when butterflies get near me and I go all crazy? Why not face the scariest of all the flying creatures that haunt me?” She cringed.

  He stared at her and didn’t say anything.

  “We could go tomorrow. We don’t have worship service. If it worked out well, you could surprise your father on Monday. But even more, you’d be proving something to yourself that might help you with enclosed spaces in the future.” She shrugged. “And besides, I’ve been in the boats and gone through Bluespring plenty of times and never seen a single bat.” Although the fact that Jayce’s friend had seen bats today didn’t bode well for tomorrow.

  “We can do this.” Jayce’s expression was tight with strain, but his voice was filled with hope.

  “Ya, we can.” Evelyn knew she didn’t sound quite as confident, but there was a bonus to the entire ordeal. Being mostly alone with Jayce in a dimly lit area. She would pray that everything went well for both of them. “But it’s too far to go in a buggy. We hired drivers when we went as kinner—children, I mean.”

  “I can take one of the limos, but will your folks be upset?”

  “Well, Millie can’t make the trip. They know it’s too far for a horse. And it doesn’t make sense to hire a driver when you have access to a car.”

  “Okay.”

  When she dropped him back at the inn, he hugged her and kissed her cheek. It seemed appropriate for friends. And that’s what they were, she reminded herself.

  Then she decided to start praying early that tomorrow went well.

  Seventeen

  Esther and Lizzie sat propped up in bed, lanterns lit on both of their nightstands. They stared at the box Naomi had brought over, along with the envelope and card that had been taped to the outside.

  “We’re not meant to open that box.” Esther shook her head. On the outside of the envelope, she recognized her mother’s handwriting. Esther and Lizzie. But after they’d read the card, it didn’t appear the contents were for them. The short note only said:

  It is important to me that Gus be given this box after mei passing.

  Leib,

  Mamm

  Lizzie pulled her long gray hair over her shoulder, twisting it into a wet rope that was dripping on the sheet. Esther gently slapped her hand. “Stop that.”

  Lizzie groaned as she released the mass of hair. “Of course we’re meant to open it.” She picked up the envelope and pointed. “See, here are our names.”

  Esther wanted nothing more than to tear into that box. Maybe there was a clue inside about why their mother had made them promise to let Gus live in the cottage.

  “And that envelope was barely taped to the box, easy for us to pull off.” Esther shook her head again, her wet hair pinned in a bun on top of her head. “Look at the amount of tape wrapped around the box. There are layers of it.”

  “That doesn’t mean we aren’t supposed to open it.” Lizzie picked up the box and shook it. “It’s not very heavy, but it’s not files or papers. More like a football hitting the sides of the box, or maybe something a little heavier but about the same size.”

  “It doesn’t feel right to open it.” Esther’s fingers itched to get a knife and start cutting through the packing tape that had yellowed over time. Even the envelope and card were discolored with a light brownish tint, making Esther wonder how long ag
o her mother had written the note and packed the contents.

  “Maybe Mamm had an affair, and Gus is our long-lost bruder.” Lizzie covered her face with her hands and moaned. “Just shoot me if that’s the case. The thought of sharing the same DNA with that man makes mei toes curl.”

  “Ach, hush now. You’ve brought that up before, and we both know Mamm never would have done anything like that.”

  “Then why, oh why, have we been forced to tolerate that man for the remainder of our time here on Earth? These are supposed to be our golden years, but Gus tarnishes each and every one of them.”

  Esther recalled asking Gus about his arrangement with their mother. He’d said, “If she wanted you to know, I reckon she would have told you.” Since Gus wouldn’t reveal any information about their relationship, it was even more of a mystery.

  “Gus isn’t Amish, for one thing. And he’s only been around for eleven or twelve years.” Esther tucked loose strands of hair back into the bun on her head.

  Lizzie sat straighter as her eyebrows arched mischievously. “Thus the term ‘long-lost bruder.’ He could have returned like a prodigal sohn.”

  “He’s not our bruder. There must be something else.” Esther shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just personal papers Mamm had been holding on to for Gus. Maybe it’s his birth certificate, or a passport, or medical records.” She raised and lowered her shoulders again. “Things like that. They could be inside another container inside the box.”

  “You’re probably right.” Lizzie lifted the box onto her lap. “So there’s no harm opening it.” She picked at the tape with a fingernail. “Go get a knife.”

  Esther yanked the box from her sister’s lap and placed it at the foot of the bed. “We’re not opening it. We will give it to Gus, and it will be up to him whether or not to tell us what’s inside.”