The Reconciliation

by Susan Lantz Simpson

  “You can have a pretzel.”

  “What?”

  “We’ll be closing soon. You can just take a pretzel. No charge.”

  “I can pay.” Did she look that destitute?

  “Of course, but we don’t save these, so please take one. My treat. I’ll grab you a small soda, too. Which kind would you like?”

  “Any one will be fine.” Rebecca only cared that the drink was bubbly so it would help the pretzel stay down.

  The girl, who was probably about Rebecca’s age, smiled as she handed over the soda, a straw, and a small bag with a big pretzel peeking out. “Here you go.”

  “Danki. I appreciate your kindness.”

  “Nee problem. Have a nice evening.”

  That was doubtful, but Rebecca could always hope. She smiled at the girl and headed for the entrance. Sherry’s big green van had just stopped outside the front door of the market. Perfect timing. Rebecca juggled her possessions so she could push the door open with her arm. The assault of an icy wind gust made her hurry across the sidewalk. She climbed into the van carefully to avoid spilling the soda everywhere.

  “Rebecca Zook, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Sherry turned to offer Rebecca a huge smile. “Do you need help with anything?”

  “Nee. This is all I have.” How sad that all her worldly possessions were shoved inside an oversized canvas bag. She hadn’t taken much with her when she left, and she definitely had little to bring back from New York. “I appreciate your driving all the way here on such short notice.”

  Sherry glanced over her shoulder before maneuvering the big van out of the parking lot. “It’s perfectly all right. My family was scattered hither and yon today, so I left a note and a big pot of chili. They’ll be completely happy with that.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner and evening plans.”

  “I had no plans to interrupt. And I scarfed down a bowl of chili before I left the house. Have you eaten? We can stop some place if you like. It looks like your mother may need to fatten you up a bit.” Sherry chuckled.

  “I have a big pretzel from the market but haven’t eaten it yet.” She didn’t add that she’d “fatten up” soon enough.

  “You can go right ahead and eat it. You can’t hurt this old van any.”

  “Danki.” Rebecca reached into the paper bag, tore off a piece of the pretzel, and popped it into her mouth. For some reason, hunger made her queasiness worse, so she’d better send something down to her stomach right away.

  “Do your folks know you’re coming?”

  Rebecca swallowed before she could choke on her bite of pretzel. She licked the salt from her lips. “Nee, they aren’t expecting me. Maybe I should have tried to get a message to them.”

  “Oh, they will be so surprised and so happy to have you home.”

  Surprised, yes. Maybe “shocked” would be closer to their reaction. Happy? Well, that was a big question mark. “I hope so.”

  “Don’t you worry, honey. Parents always rejoice when their children return home. No matter where they’ve been or what they’ve done or how old they are, they are always beloved children.”

  Rebecca prayed that would be true for Amish parents, too. She pinched off another bite of her pretzel as Sherry concentrated on merging onto the highway. Once their pace had evened out in the flow of traffic, Rebecca ventured a sip of her soda.

  “So where have you been, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  The gulp of bubbly soda burned Rebecca’s nose and caused her eyes to water. “New York.”

  “Did you see all the sights in the big city?”

  “I saw a lot.” She’d seen a lot she wished she hadn’t seen.

  “Are you home to stay?”

  “I-I hope so. I-I guess that depends on my mamm and daed.” And the bishop and whoever else had a say in whether she could return to the fold. She hadn’t yet been baptized. She had almost taken that step, but had run out of the service, to everyone’s surprise and her parents’ horror. She supposed she’d have to ask for forgiveness, and she may have to repeat the instructional classes—if she’d be allowed to once they all knew about the boppli. How did her life become such a mess? She should have behaved herself, been satisfied with her life, and stayed home! She gulped more soda to push down the huge lump in her throat.

  “Well, you mark my words. Everyone will be so glad to have you home. I’m sure your parents have been worried about you.”

  “I’m sorry to have caused them to worry.”

  “You know, we parents always worry over our children. My Jenny got a little wild and crazy in college, but she came home and finally settled down. She’s teaching first grade now and loving every minute of it. We prayed for her every day she was gone and were overjoyed when she came home. Your parents will be, too.”

  Rebecca nodded at Sherry’s reflection in the rear-view mirror. She’d been unable to get that lump down or to talk around it. Sherry fell silent for a few minutes to concentrate on navigating the traffic. Rebecca set her soda in a cup holder and returned the half-eaten pretzel to the bag. A dull ache across her forehead made her close her eyes and lean her head back against the seat. She started to pray but must have dozed off instead. She jerked upright when Sherry spoke.

  “Almost home!”

  The Welcome to St. Mary’s County sign appeared right outside her window. How had they traveled all those miles so quickly? Familiar businesses came into view—grocery stores, gas stations, a bank. Then there was the big farmers’ market, which, thankfully, was closed now. If it had been open, Rebecca would be squirming every which way in her seat to remain concealed from the buggies full of Amish folks heading home. She wanted her parents to be the first in the community to know she had returned. It wouldn’t do for them to hear the news through the grapevine.

  Rebecca reached to smooth loose tendrils of hair back into place and straightened the kapp that had gotten knocked lopsided as she dozed. She leaned to take a swig of watery soda to moisten her desert-dry throat. She wasn’t sure which pounded harder—her heart or her head.

  “Do you want to stop anywhere or do you want me to take you straight home?”

  “Home, please.” Home, she hoped.

  Rebecca reached for another sip of soda to calm the waves of nausea as Sherry signaled to turn off the highway. She nearly swallowed the straw when Sherry swung the van out again to avoid a gray buggy. At the precise instant Rebecca glanced up from the cup holder and looked out the window, the smiling young man leaning out of the buggy looked into the van. Atlee Stauffer.

  Fun-loving, teasing Atlee. Older than Rebecca by a couple of years, he was one of the few buwe who had never succumbed to her silly flirtations. Her face burned. She was so overcome with shame she was unable to return his friendly wave. They’d almost made it home without being seen. What was Atlee doing out here at this exact moment? Rebecca slunk back farther on the seat and pretended she didn’t see him. But she did see him. And she knew in her heart Atlee recognized her. Ready or not, now everyone would know she had returned to Southern Maryland.

  Chapter Five

  In a matter of seconds the big green van left Atlee behind and passed the Clover Dale Library. Sherry drove slower on the side road lined with Englisch and Amish homes. She made another right onto Ryland Road. They were almost home. Rebecca’s breath came in such short gasps she could hardly exchange oxygen and carbon dioxide. Her hands, which had warmed up nicely thanks to the van’s hardworking heater, were now stone-cold. She leaned over to extract her wallet from her bag and with stiff fingers counted out the money to pay Sherry. She still had a little money left, so she wouldn’t have to ask her daed for anything. Not right away, at least.

  The van bumped along the long dirt drive leading to the Zooks’ big white two-story farmhouse. Before her four rambunctious older bruders had married and moved out, the house had seemed small and crowded. With Rebecca, the youngest, and her parents as the only occupants the past few years, the house seemed much
too big. Her oldest bruder, Emanuel, had talked about moving back to Maryland from Indiana, where he lived with his wife, Sally, and their kinner. Unless he had moved while Rebecca had been away, his talk still had not panned out. It would be rather nice for her little one to have cousins to play with, though—if she stayed.

  “I’m sure it’s been a long day for you, but you’re home at last.” Sherry stopped the van close to the house and turned to look at her passenger.

  “You are right about that.” Rebecca leaned forward to hand Sherry the payment they had agreed upon. “Danki, Sherry. I sure appreciate your help today.”

  “No problem. Do you need help or, uh, want me to wait around?”

  “Nee, I should be fine. You go back home to your family.”

  Sherry chuckled. “Maybe some of them have come home by now. If not, I think I’ll take a nice, hot bath in a quiet house.”

  Rebecca smiled as she slid from the van. “Enjoy your evening.”

  “Thanks, dear. You, too.” Sherry expertly turned the van around and headed toward the main road.

  Rebecca stood rooted to the sidewalk. “Enjoy” might not be an appropriate word to describe the evening she had ahead of her. She had been the apple of her daed’s eye, but now she might be a rotten apple to be cast away.

  In the waning light of day, her eyes roamed the land. The yard offered no bright flowers this time of year, but it had been neatly trimmed before the first frost. The barns and outbuildings had all been closed tight for the night. Evening chores must have been completed by now. Rebecca guessed supper was over, too, unless her parents were still sitting at the big table. It was odd they didn’t hear the van and rush out to investigate.

  The chill began seeping through her clothes to settle in her bones. She could postpone the inevitable no longer. She straightened her shoulders, dragged in a deep breath of fresh country air tinged with wood smoke, and stepped determinedly toward the front porch.

  Before she climbed the first step, the front door creaked open. Both her parents stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the lamplight behind them. Rebecca stopped in her tracks. Her mouth opened but no words came out. All her practiced speeches abandoned her at the sight of them.

  Her daed stood straight and tall, his hand still grasping the doorknob. His long, curly, dark beard had more gray streaks than she remembered. Her mamm clutched her daed’s arm with one hand. Her other hand flew to her heart. Rebecca thought her mamm, always a thin woman, now looked almost frail. Had she been sick? Her blond hair, once the same honey gold color as Rebecca’s, had faded to a much paler shade.

  Time froze. How long would they stand staring at one another? Yet Rebecca still could not make either her voice or her legs work.

  “Becky?” Sylvia’s voice came out in a whisper. “Amos, it’s Becky.” The sickly-looking woman pushed past her husband and ran across the porch. She flew down the steps and opened her arms wide to embrace her daughter. “Ach, Becky! You’re home.”

  Her mamm’s tears splashed Rebecca’s cheeks as she held Rebecca with a strength that belied her frail appearance. Were they Mamm’s tears or Rebecca’s? She didn’t know when her own tears began cascading down her face to drip from her chin. Sylvia held her and rocked to and fro as if Rebecca were a boppli.

  “M-Mamm, I-I’m so sorry.”

  “Hush. You’re home. That’s all that matters.”

  Rebecca felt her daed’s presence even though she didn’t see him approach. “Are you home to stay? You broke your mamm’s heart, you know.” His voice came out loud, forceful even, but Rebecca detected a tremor underneath the almost harsh words.

  “I-I’m sorry, Daed. I-I want to stay. I . . .”

  “Shhh.” Sylvia pulled back slightly to wipe Rebecca’s tears with one trembling hand. “We’ll talk in a bit. Let’s get you in out of the cold.” With an arm wrapped firmly around Rebecca as though afraid she’d vanish into thin air, Sylvia led the way up the steps. “Amos, get Becky’s bag.” She nodded to the canvas bag Rebecca had dropped at her feet. “Child, your hands are blocks of ice. I can feel how cold they are through my dress. And you don’t even have a warm bonnet on your head.”

  “I didn’t have my gloves with me.” Rebecca instantly felt silly for making such a comment. Anyone could purchase a pair of gloves anywhere. She didn’t need the gloves from home. The black Amish bonnet would have been much harder to find in New York.

  Rebecca ventured a quick glance in her daed’s direction as soon as they entered the house. He hadn’t said he was glad to see her or even touched her. The man who used to bounce her on his knee and toss her high in the air amid giggles and laughter remained stiff and stoic. She had broken his heart, too. Remorse flooded her, and more tears threatened.

  Chapter Six

  Rebecca let her mamm lead her into the living room. “Kumm sit near the stove and warm up. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Or would you rather have kaffi?”

  “N-neither, Mamm. I’m fine.”

  “Ach, Becky, let me look at you. I’ve missed you so much.” Sylvia began unfastening Rebecca’s coat as if she were a little girl again. “You won’t need this coat now.”

  Rebecca took her mamm’s hands in her own to still them. “It’s okay, Mamm. I can get this.” Rebecca didn’t think her condition was obvious yet but didn’t want to take the chance her mamm would discover her secret. She wanted to be able to explain. Somehow she’d have to find the right words. “A-are my things still here?”

  “Of course. Where else would they be? I counted on you to return home. I prayed for it every day.”

  “Danki.” Rebecca cast a sideways glance at her daed. He still looked like a thunderstorm about to hit. Rebecca pulled her arms from the sleeves of the coat and laid it across her lap, its bulkiness hiding her midsection just in case. With a toe, she sent the old oak rocking chair her mamm had most likely just vacated into a gentle to and fro motion. The rhythm gradually soothed her jangled nerves and her queasy stomach. Until her daed spoke, that is.

  “Where have you been, Dochder, and what have you been doing?”

  “The important thing is our dochder is home, Amos.” Sylvia threw a frown at her husband before fixing her girl with a fresh loving look. “Are you hungry? I have leftover casserole or I can make you a sandwich.”

  “Nee, Mamm. I’m not hungry.” Rebecca managed a small smile for her mamm. Please let her still love me and want me to stay after I tell them. Rebecca gathered the courage to squarely face her daed. “I will tell you everything, Daed. I-I need to tell you. Why don’t you both sit down?”

  Rebecca didn’t miss the panic-stricken glance Sylvia shared with Amos before they settled side by side on the sofa. Their wary but expectant faces nearly made Rebecca want to invent a story, a prettier story, but the truth had to be told. She cleared her throat and sucked in a deep breath. Gott, please help me and help them. Please give them understanding and forgiving hearts.

  “When I left here, I had the notion I wanted to see something different, experience city life and new adventures.” Did she ever experience new adventures! City life had turned out to be nothing like her foolish, childish dreams. It hadn’t taken too long for her excitement to be snuffed out by reality. If she hadn’t been so naive and gullible, she would have faced reality much sooner and probably experienced a lot less heartache.

  “Where did you go? What did you do there?”

  “Let her tell it her way, Amos.” Sylvia patted her husband’s arm. Her face had grown paler and her eyes misted with tears.

  “New York. I went to New York.”

  * * *

  “What do you mean you thought you were married? What kind of nonsense is that?” Amos’ thundering voice matched his stormy countenance.

  “It’s the truth, Daed. Honest.” Rebecca turned to her mamm for support but found Sylvia staring wide-eyed and on the verge of tears. “Wait!” Rebecca pushed herself up from the rocking chair and crossed the room to where her daed had plunked her bag down on the flo
or. She tore through the bag, letting its contents spill onto the hardwood floor. A ball of yellow yarn rolled across the floor. The knitting needles stuck in the second ball made a clacking sound as they hit the floor. “Here it is.” Rebecca drew out a folded piece of paper and returned to kneel in front of her parents. She shook the paper open and handed it to her daed.

  “What’s this supposed to be?”

  “My so-called marriage license.” Rebecca had almost torn the worthless piece of paper into bits when she found out she’d been duped. Now she was glad she’d hung on to it. “Doesn’t it look real, Daed? I’d never seen one before, so I assumed this was authentic. We stood before a man who read from a little book and had us say our vows. He signed that paper. It has a seal of the state of New York, or a good copy of one. I-I thought Vinny loved me. Why would I suspect it was a sham?” She drew in a shaky breath. “I guess I was pretty stupid, because I trusted him.”

  “Hmpf!” Amos’ eyes scanned the paper.

  “It does look real, ain’t so, Amos?” Sylvia had leaned closer to read along with her husband.

  “Daed, I know I made a lot of mistakes here. I-I toyed with a lot of fellows’ hearts. I-I thought it was fun to flirt. But, Daed, I never, um, went any further than flirting. Never. I didn’t really love any of those buwe, but even if I did, I would have waited until we were married.” Rebecca swiped at a tear that had rolled unbidden down her cheek. Surely her parents would believe her. They didn’t think that ill of her, did they?

  “What about Isaac Hostetler? You wanted him to leave with you. What were you planning with him?”

  “I only wanted him to be my traveling companion so I wouldn’t feel so completely alone. I never intended we would, uh, be involved, uh, any other way.”

  “Isaac sure seemed pretty hurt when you up and left like you did.” Amos’ stern expression had not softened one whit.

  “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the hurt I caused. I’m willing to ask forgiveness. I-I want to join the church now.” Rebecca sniffed and searched her parents’ faces. “If you’ll let me stay.”