An Unlikely Match

by Beth Wiseman

  As if on cue, a butterfly landed on Jayce’s knee, and Evelyn gasped. She didn’t jump up and run. She remained still beside the man she already knew she loved. Jayce’s jaw dropped as they both stared at one of the winged creatures Evelyn had been so afraid of. Its fluttering took on a new meaning and feeling, almost sucking the honesty out of her like a syringe drawing blood from her heart.

  “I’m going to take that as a gut sign and hope you’ll be back.”

  As the butterfly lifted from his leg and flew away, Jayce leaned over and kissed her, passionately, and she knew his feelings for her were strong. But she also feared this would be the last time she kissed him, so she lingered in his arms as long as she could.

  Twenty-two

  On Monday morning Esther stood next to Gus at the base of Jug Rock. She was unsure whether or not to ask him whose ashes were in the urn. When he’d asked her to go with him to the rock formation, she’d started to ask why, but then noticed the box under his arm. She’d been waiting ever since for him to tell her about the contents and why they were going to Jug Rock, which was supposed to be the largest freestanding table rock east of the Mississippi River. It looked like a giant mushroom in the middle of the woods to her. The local oddity had always drawn in tourists. Today it was just her and Gus.

  He had pulled his truck off the highway, and they walked the path through the trees to the rock. Now they were just standing there, and even though Esther wanted to be respectful, she couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.

  “Gus, what are we doing here?” She watched as he opened the box. He’d already cut the tape, so he easily pulled out a plain silver urn and held it with both hands.

  “This is where my parents had their first kiss, and they came here every year on their anniversary.” He paused. “At least, that’s what your mother told me.”

  Esther’s pulse sped up. Was she finally going to find out Gus’s connection to her family?

  “What else did mei mudder tell you?” She tried to keep her voice even and not appear too anxious. “Are you going to tell me who we are paying respects to?”

  Gus held the container tight against his belly as he stared at the rock. “Your mother and my mother were best friends, even closer after my father died. I don’t remember him. He died when I was three. Then my mother was killed in a buggy accident when I was nine.”

  Esther stepped closer to him, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “A buggy accident? As in, she was in a buggy that was hit by a car, or . . .”

  “Yeah, she was driving the buggy.” He turned to Esther. “I was actually at your house when the accident happened. I think I was pushing you on the tire swing when your mother came outside to get me and tell me the news. You’d have been about seven, I guess.”

  Esther lowered her head as she searched her memory. “Ach, Gus. I’m so sorry. I don’t remember that.” How could she forget something like that? But many memories she’d tried to hold on to had faded without her permission. Maybe she’d pushed the bad recollections from her mind.

  “Well, it was a few decades ago.” He shrugged.

  “More than a few.” She glanced up at him as her head swirled with this new information. “You and your mother were Amish.”

  “Yeah. But after my mother was killed, I got sent away to live with my aunt, who wasn’t Amish. She made arrangements to have my mother cremated, even though your mother knew she wouldn’t have wanted that. Your mother was able to convince my aunt to leave the ashes with her until I was ready to come back to spread them properly.”

  Esther was speechless.

  “I didn’t lead a very good life, Esther, and I was too ashamed to come back, too ashamed for everyone to see how my mother’s son had turned out. But when I found myself with nowhere else to go, I came home. Your mother let me rent the cottage. Actually, I didn’t rent it at first. She let me stay for free. I got a job at the local meat market, and then my social security checks started coming, and I’ve been paying rent ever since. I asked her not to tell anyone who I was out of respect for my mother, and she agreed. She told me she’d held on to the ashes for years and to let her know when I was ready for them. I wasn’t at the time, and then I forgot about them. A terrible thing, for a son to forget about his mother’s ashes.”

  Esther instinctively rested her hand on Gus’s arm. She could feel his torment radiating like heat.

  “Then your mom died, and I had no idea where they were.” He looked down at the urn. “Now I do, and after thinking about it, I decided to spread some of her ashes here, some in the river that she loved so much, and the rest on my father’s grave.”

  Esther’s bottom lip quivered. Over the years she and Lizzie had speculated why their mother let Gus live in the cottage and why she’d made them promise he could live there the rest of his life. They’d concocted everything from affairs resulting in Gus being an illegitimate family member to all sorts of other nonsense. In truth their mother had been protecting her best friend’s honor at the request of her son.

  “I didn’t know who else to bring with me . . . I didn’t want to come alone.” His eyes were moist, and Esther’s heart was cracking.

  She wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t any more customary to eulogize an Amish person’s death than it was to be cremated. Amish funerals were more of a celebration of a person’s life. But Gus hadn’t grown up Amish past the age of nine.

  “You don’t gotta say anything.” Gus opened the top, then with both hands he held the urn out and spread a portion of the ashes along the base of Jug Rock.

  Sometimes there were songs during Amish funerals. Esther remembered the words to part of one that had been sung often, “Jesus My Shepherd.” She began singing it softly in Pennsylvania Dutch, since she didn’t know it in English.

  Gus put the lid on the urn and stood straight and somber as Esther sang. She stood beside him, unmoving on the outside, but hurting for him on the inside. Birds chirped and chipmunks scurried around the fresh spring growth surrounding them.

  Esther followed Gus when he started to walk back to the truck. From there they went to the widest fork of the East White River, then to the cemetery. When they returned to Gus’s driveway outside the cottage, he killed the engine, and they just sat quietly for a while.

  “Danki for asking me to go with you,” she said softly.

  “I’m sure you’ll tell that sister of yours, but could you maybe not share the information with everyone else?” His head was low as he made the request. “And maybe convince Lizzie not to say anything.”

  “I will respect our mudders’ wishes, Gus, and not say anything to others. I’ll make sure Lizzie doesn’t either.” She glanced at the tire swing that still hung in the yard. The tire and rope had been replaced many times over the years, even though Esther and Lizzie never gave their parents grandchildren to swing on it. Visitors had enjoyed it. Esther wished she could remember the day Gus referred to, but maybe it was best that she didn’t. A child finding out that his mother had been killed must have been horrific.

  Esther respectfully waited for him to get out of the truck, but he just sighed, his hands resting on the steering wheel. She sat quietly until he turned to her. “Your mother was always kind to me. I can still remember how tormented she was when she had to tell me that my mother had been killed. When I returned twelve years ago, it was as if not a single day had passed. I was like a prodigal son to her. But I was damaged. A mean old man who hadn’t lived a good life my mother would have approved of. There’s no redemption for some of the things I’ve done. I’ve carved a place in hell, and I’m sure my spot by the hottest part of the furnace awaits.”

  Esther couldn’t imagine what Gus might have done over the course of his life, nor did she need to know. “There is always redemption, Gus. You may have given up on the Lord, but He has never given up on you.”

  One side of his mouth rose as he looked at her. “You’re just like her, your mother. You make me want to be a better person.” He lowered his gaze b
ut then nodded toward the inn. “It’s hard to believe you share the same DNA as that nutcase in there.”

  Esther had been trying to get him to be more compassionate, kinder to others, and to think before he spoke. It was a process that required time, but he’d shown progress.

  “If you want to be a better person, you’ve got to treat people with respect, Gus.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And that includes Lizzie.”

  Frowning, he opened the truck door. Esther followed suit and opened hers, then went around the front of the truck. She could count on one hand the times she’d hugged Gus over the years, but this situation warranted it. She even kissed him on the cheek, which caused his entire face to glow a bright red.

  “I believe in you, Gus, and so does Gott.”

  “Yeah, well, I doubt that.” He turned and shuffled to the cottage.

  As she walked to the inn she let the tears roll down her cheeks. By the time she reached the porch, Lizzie had come outside. Thankfully, none of the movie people were around. Even the generators were turned off. The group seemed to do that sometimes during the day. Maybe they napped—she wasn’t sure.

  “What’s wrong?” Lizzie’s face was shriveled in a look of despair. “Why are you crying?”

  Esther sat in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. Lizzie joined her, and Esther told her about the past few hours.

  “So that old grump of a man has Amish blood.” Lizzie blew out a puff of irritation and shook her head.

  It was the straw that broke Esther. She pounded her fists on the arms of her rocker. “Lizzie, I tell Gus repeatedly that he must treat you and others better, but you make no effort to get along with him!” Esther was surprised at her own rage, but the emotional day had caught up to her. She waited for Lizzie to fire back, but her younger sister just slouched into her chair.

  “I remember that day,” Lizzie said in a shaky voice. “I was the one Gus was pushing in the swing.”

  Esther’s head snapped in her direction. “You would have been just five. How can you remember that?”

  Lizzie shrugged. “Maybe because you just don’t forget something like that. Mamm coming out, pulling Gus to the side, him screaming, then Mamm rushing him into the haus as she looked over her shoulder at me.” She blinked a few times. “It’s hazy, and I probably never would have remembered it if you hadn’t brought it up. I don’t think I understood exactly what was happening, but I knew it was bad. You weren’t home, I don’t think. Maybe you went somewhere with Daed. I don’t know.”

  Esther strained her mind, but she couldn’t recall such a tragedy. She suspected her parents had shielded her and Lizzie as best they could.

  The sisters sat in silence for a while before Lizzie said, “You want some cough syrup?”

  Esther faked a little cough. “My throat is a bit sore.”

  Their cough syrup was made from honey, rum, and lemon juice and strictly reserved for colds and sore throats. And moments like this one.

  * * *

  By the time Tuesday came around, Jayce was second-guessing everything he thought he’d worked through about Evelyn and a plan. The thought of not seeing her or even saying goodbye was tearing at his insides. They’d both agreed that Saturday’s kiss would be goodbye, at least for now.

  He stayed busy loading suitcases from the inn into storage compartments in the motor homes, while everyone else said their goodbyes to Esther and Lizzie. Even his father was being particularly gracious, and that just muddled Jayce’s state of mind even more.

  He loaded most of the luggage, more than they came with, since the women had bought a lot of souvenirs. He glanced at the cottage, doubtful anyone would bother saying bye to Grumpy Gus Owens, except maybe Veronica. Jayce headed that way.

  “What do you want?” Gus said as he swung the door open.

  Jayce smiled. He was used to this sort of greeting from the old man. “We’re leaving. I came to tell you bye.” He raised a shoulder, then dropped it slowly. “So . . . stay cool.”

  Gus frowned. “Stay cool? It will be summer soon, and it will be anything but cool.”

  “I might be back. I gotta go home and figure some things out.” Jayce took a deep breath.

  “No, you won’t be back.” Gus shook his head. “You ain’t got it in you, kid.”

  Jayce grinned as he extended his hand. Surprisingly, Gus shook it and even smiled a little. “You never know, old man. You might see me again.”

  Gus looked at him long and hard. “I’ll be hoping so.”

  Jayce lost his balance as his arm dropped to his side, but he regained his composure.

  “Good luck with Esther. Don’t wait too long. You’re not getting any younger.”

  He laughed and hurried to leave before Gus could lash out. When he looked back over his shoulder, Gus was actually smiling a little and gave a quick wave before he closed the door.

  Wow. This has been a whirlwind of a trip.

  * * *

  Evelyn stood at the living room window and watched the caravan go by. One of the two limousines or two motor homes was carrying a piece of her heart. She sniffled when her mother came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.

  “If it’s Gott’s will, he will be back, mei maedel. If not, he wasn’t the one.”

  “I know.” Evelyn had cried all morning. She didn’t have any tears left, and she was sure her eyes showed the evidence. Her mother spun her around and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Lucas said you fed the chickens and collected the eggs this morning.” Her mother tipped her head to one side, her eyes questioning.

  “Ya.” Evelyn took a deep breath. “I’m trying to work through some things.”

  Her mother smiled. “He also said he saw you running from the chicken coop when you were done.”

  “I didn’t say I’d worked through them yet.” She forced a smile for her mother’s sake. “And that red-and-white rooster is mean.”

  “I’m going to go make a batch of brownies.” Evelyn’s mother kissed her on the cheek again. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  Evelyn nodded, but she turned around right away. All the vehicles were gone. He was gone. Despite her best efforts, more tears found their way down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Sometime over the past two and a half weeks, one of Veronica’s party buddies had taken a liking to Giovanni, and Jayce had snagged a ride in Veronica’s motor home so the two could ride together in the limo. He wasn’t sure why Giovanni didn’t choose the motor home, but he didn’t care. Jayce had his own bed to sleep in during the trip. His emotions, along with hauling all the luggage and packing everything up, had him feeling overly tired. The downside was that his father had managed to finagle his way onboard too.

  Jayce was lying on the bed in the smaller of the bedrooms, his arms tucked behind his head. He was almost asleep when his father walked into the room, which caused him to lift up on his elbows. His father tossed an envelope at him.

  Jayce opened it and noticed right away it was filled with hundred-dollar bills, more than they’d agreed on, it appeared. “You could have just written me a check,” he said before yawning. “And this looks like more than we agreed on.” Which was shocking, since the agreed-upon amount had been ridiculous.

  “It is more. But you earned it.” His father held his position and stared at Jayce. It was hard to read his subdued expression. “Why don’t you just stay here? It’s enough money for a down payment on a place and to get you through for a while.”

  Jayce shook his head, mouth hanging open. “Wow. You really want me gone from your place. Dad, I promise, I’ll have my stuff out of your house as soon as we get back. I want out as bad as you want me out.”

  His father flinched. Then he turned to face the living room where Veronica was curled up sipping something red and reading a magazine. “Sometimes it doesn’t pay to wait, and time can be the enemy. Time and a foul temper.” He turned back to Jayce. “I didn’t give her the time she deserved, and my temper has ruine
d most of my relationships. But I know what I want, and I’m going to make the necessary changes to prove to her that I can be the man she wants and deserves.”

  Jayce wanted to say, “Who are you, and what have you done with my father?”

  “That’s great, Dad.” He wasn’t sure how sincere the words were, or if Veronica would ever take him back, but at least his dad had a plan and had thought things through. On Saturday when he’d said bye to Evelyn, he thought he had it all worked out, a logical plan that made sense. He began to detail his plan to his father, surprisingly.

  When he’d repeated almost everything he’d said to Evelyn, his father smiled sympathetically.

  “Every time I look at you, I am reminded of the man your mother left me for—someone not much older than you are now. I’ve taken a lot of my anger out on you.” He paused, sighing. “And others. But, believe it or not, I want you to be happy. If you want to go back to LA and see this very logical plan through, then of course you should do that. Or you could embrace what you feel today and go for it. There is no guarantee of a tomorrow.” His father looked over his shoulder at Veronica again before he locked eyes with Jayce. “She’s probably too young for me, and I shouldn’t fault your mother for her younger man, but . . .”

  Something in the pit of Jayce’s stomach cramped, and he didn’t hear anything else his father said.

  “There is no guarantee of a tomorrow.” What if he never saw Evelyn again? What if she found someone else while Jayce was off finding himself—which sounded really stupid all of a sudden.

  An unusual quietness settled in. “You always plan things out, Jayce,” his father said. “I trained you in that regard. And it’s not always a bad thing.” He shrugged. “But sometimes it doesn’t hurt to shake things up.”

  His father took a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his trousers. “This was obviously meant for you. I found it in the limo. I guess it was written before the writer knew you’d be traveling in the motor home.” He handed the note to Jayce. “I confess. I read it.” Shrugging, he said, “Maybe I was meant to read it.” His eyes traveled to Veronica again. “You’ll make the right decision.”