Redeeming Grace and the Prodigal Son Returns

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Redeeming Grace and the Prodigal Son Returns Page 17

by Emma Miller


  He placed the file on his desk. “So you weren’t interested in the program?”

  “I would have been if Hannah hadn’t...” She stopped short. “It’s not fair for me to keep the job when someone else could use the opportunity to attend college. I love it here, I do, but...” She clasped her hands together. “But the truth is, I come in contact with too many people here. Englishers. I need to...separate myself. Be less worldly.”

  Dr. Hartman tapped his pen against the desk, not in an impatient way, but in a manner that she’d seen him do when he was considering treatment for one of his patients. “Are you certain that no one here, no one in particular made you feel uncomfortable?”

  “Oh no,” she insisted.

  “Nothing John or I did to upset you?”

  Grace felt her cheeks grow warm at the mention of John’s name. “No, really. John’s been very kind to me and to my son.”

  “And Hannah didn’t object to him driving you home?”

  Grace shook her head. “No, not at all.”

  “Good. Good. Tell you what,” Dr. Albert said. “How about if you go ahead and continue on in the kennel until...let’s say after the holidays. We’ll just go on as we have been until I can locate a replacement for you.”

  “But the college? Won’t someone have to register for the spring term soon?”

  “Nobody else I’d take the chance on. Not at this time. We all think you’re special, Grace. If it doesn’t suit you, we’ll just forget the whole idea.” He smiled. “How is Hannah? Well?”

  “Yes,” Grace answered. “Busy getting ready for the school Christmas party. I understand that the children put on skits and memorize pieces. Rebecca says all the parents and younger brothers and sisters will be there. I know Dakota, my little boy, is excited about it.”

  “Give Hannah my best, and the girls and Aunt Jezzy. Fine woman, Jezzy Yoder. Makes a great chocolate moon pie.” He waved toward the door. “I won’t keep you. I’m sure you’ve got lots to do this morning in the kennel.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She turned away, then back toward him. “I really am sorry for yesterday.”

  “I appreciate your coming back. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you. You’re right, it wasn’t the right way to resign your position. But you’ve made up for it, Grace. Not many young women would have had the nerve to come in and admit a mistake. We’ll say no more about it.” He offered her his hand. “Friends?”

  “Yes,” she agreed, shaking his hand. “Friends.”

  But as she walked back down the corridor to the annex that housed the kennels, she couldn’t help wishing that it had been John she’d had the conversation with...and John who had promised to remain her friend. Losing him... The lump formed in her throat again. She’d been afraid of coming face to face with John after telling him that she’d quit and then not having the nerve to face him when he’d come to the house yesterday morning. She’d hurt him and probably destroyed their friendship forever.

  She swallowed, trying to convince herself that it was the only way, that doing anything else would only be encouraging him—making him think that they could continue on the way they had. Dating. Yes, she’d ignored what was staring her right in the face. They’d been dating.

  Under the circumstances, she’d done what she had to do, but there would be a price to pay. She hoped John would get over it, but she was absolutely certain that losing his friendship would leave a lasting ache in her heart.

  * * *

  Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and then Friday passed without Grace and John running into each other. If the other employees in the office wondered why she’d missed a day of work, they were kind enough not to ask. She did her job at the clinic, went home and took care of her son. In the evenings, after supper, she, her sisters, Hannah, Irwin and Aunt Jezzy all sat around the table fashioning Christmas wreaths from live greenery to sell at Spence’s Market. The money from the wreaths would go to buy textbooks for the school where Hannah taught.

  All day Saturday, Grace and her sisters swept and scrubbed floors and stairs, hung quilts on the clothesline to air. Even Irwin was pressed into service to wash windows and move furniture so that the girls could dust in every corner. Aunt Jezzy and Hannah kept busy in the kitchen, baking dozens of cookies, packing them into clean, shiny lard cans for Christmas and rolling dough for pie crusts. Even Miriam and Ruth came to help make the farmhouse spotless for the holidays.

  After the busy day, Ruth and Miriam remained to share a light supper of potato soup and chicken salad sandwiches, but the delicious smells of roasting turkey and baking ham filled the kitchen and wafted through all the rooms. Because even a visiting Sunday was a day of rest, Saturday was the time for making baked beans, deviled eggs, scalloped potatoes, Brown Betty pudding, cranberry sauce and a counterful of pies to satisfy guests at the next day’s midday meal.

  As Grace bathed Dakota and tucked him into bed, she realized that she was tired, and might turn in early herself. But no matter how weary she was, she was glad that she’d felt a part of the household today. The empty place inside her, left after losing John’s friendship, surely, in time, with God’s help, would fill. In the days to come, she told herself, she’d find happiness in the small joys of the day: Dakota’s laughter, the pleasure of a task well done, the knowledge that she was living her life as her grandparents had. She would find peace here. There was no other choice.

  She returned to the kitchen to bid Hannah and the others good-night, but was surprised to find the room empty. Puzzled, Grace looked around. It wasn’t quite eight o’clock. The propane lamp over the table was still burning, but there was no sign of any of her sisters. Had Miriam and Ruth left already? Aunt Jezzy never went to bed before ten, and even her rocking chair sat empty, the ever-present bag of knitting standing beside it.

  “Hello?” Grace called. “Where is everyone?” She went to the back door and looked out. Still no one.

  “Grace!”

  She turned to see Johanna in the hallway.

  “Come, sister,” Johanna said. “We would speak with you.”

  Even more confused, Grace followed her. Johanna pushed open the parlor door, the room that was never used except to welcome important visitors. There was Hannah, Aunt Jezzy, Miriam, Ruth, Susanna, Rebecca, even Anna. They were all seated in a circle facing one empty chair. Behind them stood the men of the family: Charley, Eli, Samuel and Irwin, arms folded, expressions so solemn that they might have been carved in oak.

  “Sit,” Johanna said, pointing to the solitary walnut chair. Miriam scooted over to make room for Johanna, and she slid in on the straight-backed settee.

  “What is all this?” Grace asked.

  “Sit, daughter,” Hannah said.

  Terrified, Grace looked from one sister to the other. “Have I done something wrong?” she demanded. “Are you sending me away?”

  “Sit, child,” Hannah repeated. “Open your heart and your ears and listen.”

  “Ya,” Anna said kindly. “It’s time to stop trying to fit into a shoe that was made for another woman.”

  “Don’t,” Grace murmured, backing into the chair. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

  “You can’t,” Johanna said softly. “No matter how much you want it, a bluebird can’t turn herself into a wren.”

  “Please.” Grace looked from Rebecca to Miriam, fearing she might burst into tears. She’d been trying so hard. How could they do this to her? “I just want to be Amish like you.”

  “You are my sister,” Ruth said. “But you must know that you are of the world.”

  Susanna ran to Grace and hugged her. “You are my sister,” she whispered, “but you’re not Plain.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What more can I do?” Grace pleaded. Her eyelids burned, but she couldn’t cry. The hurt was too deep for tears. She’d fo
und her family, and now they were rejecting her. “I’m already quitting my job. I can’t believe that—”

  “Hush, child,” Hannah soothed. “We need you to listen to what we have to say.” She nodded to Miriam.

  Miriam folded her hands in her lap and looked at Grace. “We’ve all been talking and... You need to understand that not everyone is born to wear the Kapp.” She shrugged. “Our way isn’t the way for everyone.”

  The room was quiet for a moment.

  “If Dat were still here, he would agree with us,” Rebecca said.

  Grace looked from one sister to the next.

  “What we’re trying to say—” it was Anna who spoke next “—is that, Grace...you aren’t meant to be Amish.”

  Grace rose to her feet feeling as if her heart might break. “So that’s it? You’re giving up on me?”

  “Ne,” Hannah assured her. “That’s not what we’re saying. Please sit.” She paused. “And know that this isn’t easy for us, either.”

  Grace sank back into her chair.

  “We’ve all gotten the impression that you have in your head that we are something we’re not,” Hannah continued. “That...in seeking our life, you’ve been seeking something from God.” Again, she paused. “We think this might have something to do with your past...before you came to us.”

  Grace felt her cheeks grow warm. She looked at the floor.

  Aunt Jezzy spoke next. “Forgiveness comes to anyone who asks God for it, child. You do know that, don’t you?”

  Grace lowered her head to her hands. “I don’t know what I know anymore.”

  “You know God’s been with you all this time,” Aunt Jezzy said. “Didn’t you see His hand?”

  Grace lifted her head to look at them all, not sure what to say.

  “Think, Grace.” It was Hannah again. “Why did you come here? Who guided your footsteps from so far away to this house?”

  “I guess I thought God did,” she answered.

  “He brought you home to Seven Poplars to us, to your father’s family, to your Amish roots,” Hannah agreed.

  Grace nodded. “But I thought He led me here so I could be Amish.”

  “Maybe He led you here to find us...but also to find a good man of faith, a man who will love you and care for you and Dakota.”

  Grace blinked. “A man?”

  “A good husband.” Rebecca smiled shyly. “It’s what we all hope for, isn’t it?”

  Grace still didn’t know where this conversation was going, but she had an idea. “But if I become Amish, I can stay with you. Be with you always. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Susanna burst into laughter. “Snitzeldoodle!” She covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. “You are our sister. You can’t stop being a sister. People don’t stop being family.”

  “Susanna is right. Amish or English, you will always be a part of our family,” Hannah explained.

  “And you will be welcome here, in my mother’s house, in any of our homes,” Johanna said. “With us. As long as you want to stay.”

  “We’re not turning you away,” Hannah continued. “My husband’s girl would always be welcome at my table. But...” She rose and crossed to Grace and hugged her tightly. “But we have come to love you for you, not for who your father was. For Grace Yoder, alone.”

  “Ya,” Irwin chimed in. “You’re all right for an Englisher.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Grace managed, touching her hands to her temples. She actually felt dizzy. “I...I was so scared. I thought you were sending me away.”

  “Snitzeldoodle,” Rebecca teased. “Susanna has it right. Our Leah is already living far from here. Mam doesn’t want to lose another daughter so soon.”

  Grace closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “So...what am I supposed to do now? If...if I’m not supposed to be Amish.”

  “God will tell, in time.” Aunt Jezzy pointed to the door. “But right now, I think you need to tend to that good man waiting in the kitchen.”

  Grace stared at her. A man in the kitchen? This...this Amish intervention was becoming stranger and stranger. She had thought maybe Hannah was referring to John, but now she was afraid—

  “Eli, would you ask him to come in?” Hannah said.

  Grace half rose again and Hannah waved her back into her seat. “A man has come to see you, daughter. Sit and receive him.”

  Susanna giggled and whispered loudly behind her hand. “He wants to court you.”

  “Who wants to court me?” Grace asked. Shivers ran down her arms. John. It had to be John. If it wasn’t John, she would...she would run out of the room. Relief that it was not Lemuel or some stern Amish stranger made her giddy as John appeared in the doorway.

  Susanna bounced up and down with delight, clapping her hands together.

  Grace said the first thing that came to her mind. “I’m sorry, John,” she cried. “I was wrong. Can I have my job back?”

  “Nope.” John folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You can’t. I got someone else. The scholarship is still open, though.” John gazed down at her. “I’d like you to reconsider accepting it, but more importantly...”

  “Just spit it out before she gets away,” Charley urged.

  John took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

  Grace’s heart did a little flip-flop as their gazes met. He looked nervous. Why did he look so nervous?

  “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” John asked. “And before you say anything, I want you to know that I’d like to adopt Dakota. I want him to legally be my son...our son.”

  Grace was glad she was sitting down. If she hadn’t been, she knew that her knees wouldn’t hold her upright. At the same time, she felt light enough to float up to the ceiling. She tried to think of something to say, but again, she was speechless.

  “Say yes,” Miriam urged with a giggle. “Snitzeldoodle.”

  Johanna gave her a little nudge. “He’ll make a fine father for your son.”

  “Snap him up before Rebecca does,” Ruth teased.

  “I know this is sudden.” John offered his hand, walking over to Grace. “Come walk with me. We’ll talk.”

  “Don’t turn him down until you hear him out,” Samuel urged. “He owns land, and he’s a good animal doctor. He’ll be a good provider.”

  “And he’s a man of faith.” Hannah smiled at John and winked at him. “Even if he is Mennonite.”

  John’s strong fingers closed around Grace’s. Somehow, she found the strength to rise and go with him. She was vaguely aware of his helping her into her coat, wrapping a scarf over her head and leading her outside into the chilly night air.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Just walking. How about the orchard?”

  She nodded. She needed to get out into the crisp air to clear her head. “Yes, let’s walk.” She savored the warmth of his hand as she glanced back at the house. The moon was round and full and as orange as a pumpkin, making the yard almost as bright as early morning. “I’m not sure what just happened in there.”

  “Are you cold?” Their breaths made gray puffs of condensation in the air.

  “No. I like it. It smells like Christmas, doesn’t it?” The sweet, pungent scent of fresh-cut evergreens from the unfinished wreaths on tables in the backyard mingled with wood smoke. Giddy with happiness, she squeezed his hand. “They ambushed me, all of them. It was a setup and I walked right into it.” She looked up at him. “And you knew, didn’t you? That they were going to do this. I should be mad at you for not warning me.”

  “Don’t blame me.” John chuckled. “It was Uncle Albert who went to Hannah this week. He picked her up after school, and they hatched this up between them. Hannah told my uncle that you and I were like two go
ats butting our heads together. Apparently, they decided we needed some straight talk from the family.”

  She looked at him, suddenly remembering what Hannah had said back at the house about God’s forgiveness. “Did you tell them about Joe and me? About our marriage?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell. I don’t know that you need ever tell anyone.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “I should tell Hannah. I think I want to,” she said in a small voice.

  “So tell her when you’re ready.”

  “I thought maybe she knew. The way she was talking about God having forgiven me and led me here.”

  “All you have to do to be forgiven is ask.”

  “Hannah said the same thing,” she mused.

  He squeezed her hand. “Hannah’s a wise woman.”

  She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. When she’d walked into the parlor and saw all the family waiting, she’d been certain that her life was falling apart. Now, in the light of this beautiful moon, with John’s hand in hers, with him keeping step beside her, nothing felt beyond her reach. Was it God’s forgiveness that had been there all along that was making her feel this way? Was it finally forgiving herself?

  “So, no more games between us, Grace,” John said. “I love you, and I think you love me, even if you don’t realize it yet. And I want you to be my wife.” He went on before she had a chance to argue. “You’re one of a kind, Grace. It was no accident that we met, and no accident that I haven’t been able to think of anyone else since I laid eyes on you.”

  “Hannah said that,” she mused. “She said that if God led me to Seven Poplars, he might have been leading me to you all along.”

  “Sounds right to me.”

  Grace walked beside him, feeling his breath in sync with hers. She was in love with him. She really was. “I don’t know how to explain it to you, how alone I’ve felt all my life. Even when I was with Joe, I still felt like I was alone.”

 

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