The Reconciliation

by Susan Lantz Simpson

  A couple of the older men’s white-bearded chins had dropped to their chests, and their eyes had drooped in slumber. One snored softly. Women in blue or purple or green dresses held infants or young children on their laps. Their arms and backs must be kinked in pain without any kind of support. Funny, she had never before considered how uncomfortable those young mudders might be. She’d be joining their ranks in a few months. Well, she’d be holding an infant in her arms, but she might not actually be accepted as one of them.

  Rebecca wiggled ever so slightly, careful not to bump into her mamm. At least she was sitting on the end of the row, so only Sylvia would be affected by her movement. For some reason she felt uncomfortable, as though eyes were watching her. She looked at the minister who was speaking, but it wasn’t his eyes boring into her. She glanced at the other ministers and the bishop. They were all staring at the speaker. Yet Rebecca couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

  Ever so slowly she ventured a gaze in the direction where the young men sat. All seemed intent on the sermon, or were at least pretending to be. All, that is, except one. Atlee Stauffer’s bright green eyes looked right into her own. How long had Atlee been staring at her? No doubt he had recognized her in the van on her way home the other evening. He’d probably enjoyed a laugh or two over her attempt to hide from him.

  Now he smiled at her. It wasn’t a mean or joking kind of smile; not a smirk at all. She had never known Atlee to be mean, but he did like to joke and pull pranks. A genuine smile curved his lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes. He almost imperceptibly nodded at her before turning his attention to the minister.

  What was that all about? She and Atlee had not really been freinden previously. They were acquaintances, for sure and for certain, but Atlee had been two grades ahead of her in school. She and Malinda were the same age, but they had never been close freinden, either. Rebecca wasn’t at all sure she could name a single person who was a close freind. And she could certainly use one about now.

  Rebecca knelt for the final prayer, then slipped out of the barn. Sylvia trotted to keep up. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Mamm.” Rebecca tried to offer a reassuring smile but knew her attempt fell short. She patted her mamm’s arm. “Do you think it would be all right if I help out in the kitchen?” If she could refill serving plates and bowls as needed and clean up in the kitchen, she could avoid serving at the tables and thereby avoid facing the folks gathered around them.

  “Of course. I’m so glad you’re back, and so is everyone else.” Sylvia squeezed Rebecca’s hand.

  Rebecca nodded but wasn’t so sure everyone shared her mamm’s sentiments. The warmth of the Stauffers’ kitchen came as a relief after the wind had nearly yanked Rebecca’s bonnet off her head during the brisk walk from the barn. She stowed her cloak and bonnet and followed on Sylvia’s heels to the kitchen. She was going to have to stop hiding behind her mamm’s skirt like some shy little girl. Maybe she’d do that another day.

  Rebecca busied herself working in the background as much as possible. She wiped up spills, set empty dishes in the sink to be washed in a little while, and set refilled bowls on the table for some of the other girls to carry to the barn, where the men would have converted the church benches into makeshift tables. She felt like an outsider observing the action around her, like a peeping Tom peering in a window.

  When the women headed out for their meal, Rebecca shrank farther back into the shadows. Clusters of women chatted about their families or news from the Budget, the Plain newspaper, or an upcoming work frolic. Her mamm eventually joined in with her own freinden. Only Rebecca was the odd person out, it seemed.

  She filled the sink with soapy water and began to tackle the dishes piling up on the counters. As she scrubbed, she gazed out the window at the kinner running about despite the frosty breeze.

  “Becky, dear, you can leave those for a bit. Kumm get a bite to eat.” Saloma Stauffer smiled. She had always been kind. “It’s so gut to have you home.”

  “Danki.”

  “You need to eat and leave this mess.”

  “I’m not really very hungry.”

  “At least kumm sit and have a cup of kaffi. Maybe something will tempt your appetite.”

  Rebecca didn’t want to join the others. She didn’t want all eyes turning to stare at her. But she didn’t want to ignore Saloma’s kindness, either. She dried her hands, pulled on her cloak and bonnet, and let Saloma lead her out to the waiting meal. Help me get through this, Lord Gott.

  Saloma nudged Rebecca to the food table and handed her a plate. “Try to eat something, dear. I know this is a difficult day for you, but we are all your freinden. We all care.”

  Rebecca nodded. The lump in her throat grew to boulder proportions. Saloma’s words were a balm to her injured soul. She had to put some kind of food on her plate, but honestly, nothing at all appealed to her. She chose a few crackers, a cheese slice, and a dollop of coleslaw. Saloma handed her a Styrofoam cup of steaming kaffi and led her to a seat.

  “Look who I found slaving away in the kitchen. Becky, if you scoot in here next to your mamm, I’ll sit on your other side.”

  Rebecca forced herself to look at the other women, who all murmured or nodded a greeting. Obediently she sat next to Sylvia and slid as close to her as possible to give Saloma room. The other women briefly stopped their conversations and watched Rebecca wiggle across the bench. She felt like an animal on display at the zoo and had to suppress the urge to reach up to see if she’d grown another head. When Saloma perched next to her, quiet conversations resumed.

  Rebecca had never been a huge fan of kaffi, and the brew had become even more of a challenge to stomach lately. Not wanting to offend Saloma, she raised the cup to her lips and pretended to take a sip. Even that proved to be impossible. She quickly set the cup down and picked up a cracker.

  “So, Becky, I don’t know if your mamm told you, but we have a work frolic coming up soon. We’re planning to get Lena Troyer’s house shipshape before her new bundle of joy arrives.”

  “Uh, Mamm hadn’t told me.” Had Mamm planned to tell her, or was she embarrassed about taking her there? It really didn’t matter. She probably wouldn’t go anyway.

  “We’ve been so busy I haven’t had the chance to catch Becky up on all the latest news,” Sylvia said.

  “That’s understandable. We hope you’ll both be there.” Saloma speared two pickled beet slices and popped them into her mouth.

  “Are you all right?” Sylvia spoke directly into Rebecca’s ear.

  “I-I hope so.” Rebecca nibbled the corner off her cracker. She picked up the plastic fork and raked up a small bite of coleslaw. She’d always loved the shredded cabbage and carrot dish. She prayed her stomach wouldn’t revolt, not now in front of so many watchful eyes.

  After her third tiny bite of coleslaw, Rebecca had to eat more of the dry cracker to appease her queasy stomach. Would this nausea ever end? She’d heard a few women in the past say they’d been sick for the entire nine months. Surely that wouldn’t happen to her. She wasn’t sure she could endure that. Suddenly she nudged her mamm. “I’ve got to get up—quick!”

  Sylvia slid over as far as she could to give Rebecca room to move. She swiped the paper napkin across her mouth and prepared to stand.

  “I-it’s okay, Mamm.” Rebecca patted her mamm’s arm. “You eat and visit.” As gracefully as possible, Rebecca escaped from the table.

  When out of view of the doorway, she ran toward the clump of trees behind the barn and promptly lost the little food she had ingested. She leaned her head against the rough bark of a tall, leafless oak tree. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed to hold back the tears burning the insides of her eyelids. She didn’t expect returning home to be easy, but she didn’t expect to feel so utterly alone, either. And this dreadful nausea did nothing to help. Ever since she was a little girl, she always cried after throwing up. Today was no exception.

  “Becky, are you all right?
”

  “Ahhh!” Rebecca jumped and swiped a hand across her eyes and mouth. She thought she’d escaped unnoticed, but someone had evidently observed her flight. She turned to look up into the bright green eyes looking down on her in concern. “Atlee, you scared me.” She patted the spot above her pounding heart. “Wh-what are you doing out here?” Despite the cold, Rebecca’s face flamed. She hoped she didn’t look like someone who had just lost her lunch.

  “I had just kumm from the house and saw you run by. Is everything okay?”

  “Jah, I, uh, needed some air.”

  “Did someone upset you or treat you unkind?”

  Why should Atlee Stauffer care how anyone treated her? Why did he even bother to check on her at all? “I-I’m not upset. Everyone has been kind.” She guessed.

  “Are you sick?”

  “I-I’m feeling better now.” She dragged in a deep breath of the frosty air.

  “Do you want to walk for a minute or are you too cold?”

  What did he want? Was he playing some kind of joke or game at her expense? Surely not. Atlee had always been a prankster, but she’d never known him to be unkind. “I’m not too cold.”

  “Gut. Sometimes a brisk walk in the cold settles the nerves and clears the mind.”

  “I suppose so.” Rebecca hoped so.

  They shuffled along in the opposite direction of the big barn where folks still gathered. Dried brown leaves crunched beneath their feet. Overhead, bare tree limbs scratched the sky. Rebecca tried to relax, but her wariness kept her muscles so tense they were ready to snap. She jumped again when Atlee touched her arm. So much for his theory about a walk settling the nerves. She was as jumpy as a toad.

  “Shhh! Look, Becky.”

  Rebecca’s eyes followed where Atlee pointed to a small clearing through a stand of loblolly pines. Three does nibbled at ground-level bushes, their ears twitching to alert them to any sound. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered. As if on some silent cue, all three deer silently bounded into thicker woods. “You probably wish you had your gun with you.”

  “Nee. Don’t tell anyone, but I really don’t care for hunting—especially deer. They’re such graceful, amazing creatures.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened in surprise. She never would have guessed Atlee had a soft spot for deer. She had always loved seeing the deer graze in the fields and leap high in the air as they fled from perceived danger. She had once wanted to make a pet of a little spotted fawn, but she assumed all men wanted to hunt them. Atlee was a mystery, for sure and for certain.

  She stared after the deer for a few seconds even though they had vanished from sight. When she could no longer contain her curiosity, Rebecca asked the question that had been rattling around in her brain. “Atlee, why are you walking with me?”

  “Huh?”

  “Why are you out here in the cold walking with me?”

  “I saw you run off, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “That’s all?”

  “What else?”

  “You weren’t thinking that I, um, that I would be, um, well, I don’t know for sure what kind of reputation I have, but I am not a bad girl.” Rebecca knew her face must have turned ten shades of red. She was too embarrassed to even glance in Atlee’s direction. She spoke again, whisper soft. “I’m not even like I used to be.”

  Atlee coughed like he was choking on his tongue. “I can assure you, Becky, I have no ulterior motive. As I said, I came to check on you. I don’t pay attention to rumors and gossip. I’ve had my share of criticism with all my pranks over the years. I only thought you might need a freind.” With a sheepish grin, Atlee peeked at her from beneath the brim of his black Sunday hat. He blew out a breath, ruffling the brown hair hanging on his forehead.

  “Freind?”

  “Jah.”

  “We were never really freinden before.”

  “You were, uh, too busy and didn’t seem to, uh, need other freinden.” Atlee dropped his gaze to the ground, where his foot swirled the faded and dried leaves.

  Rebecca burst out laughing at Atlee’s discomfiture and then clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “Ach, Atlee, I suppose you’re right. I was too busy adding to my collection of conquests. It’s a wonder you or anyone else in your family even speaks to me after the fiasco with Isaac. I truly have grown up a lot since then.”

  “Isaac made his own choices. It didn’t look like you twisted his arm or anything.”

  “And Malinda? How does she feel about everything?”

  “Malinda is doing fine. She’s happier than she’s ever been.”

  “Gut. She’s a nice girl.”

  “So what do you think, Becky? Can you use a freind or do you want me to get lost? I promise I am not planning any jokes or pranks. I’ve grown up a bit, too.”

  “I can definitely use a freind.”

  Atlee stuck out his right hand to shake as if they had just concluded an important business transaction. After a moment’s hesitation, Rebecca placed her hand in Atlee’s large, rough one and shook it.

  “Since you are my freind, Atlee, I don’t wish for you to be the subject of any gossip by hanging out with me. To spare your reputation, we’d better head back.”

  “I’m not at all worried about my reputation, but we can head back if you want. Are you feeling better?”

  “Much better.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Kumm to the work frolic with me.” Sylvia bustled around the kitchen packing a basket with the snickerdoodles, fudge brownies, and lemon bars she had baked to take along.

  “I don’t know if my help would be appreciated or if my presence would be a gut thing.” Rebecca still sat at the big oak table, nursing a cup of hot tea. A petrified piece of toast that she’d nibbled the corners from sat in front of her.

  “Don’t be silly. Of course you would be wilkom, and your help would be appreciated.”

  “I can’t say that people have been overjoyed to see me so far, but I really can’t blame them.” Rebecca held the cup to her lips without taking a sip. The heat of the ceramic cup warmed her cold hands.

  “You’ve only been to church since you’ve been home. This would be a gut opportunity for you to mingle a bit.”

  “That’s just it, Mamm. I’m not sure how to mingle. I don’t fit in with either the young women or the older women.”

  “We all fit in everywhere. You’ll see.”

  “I didn’t exactly have freinden before, you know.”

  “Rebecca, you were young and in your rumspringa.”

  “It was only a few months ago, though it seems I’ve lived a whole lifetime since then.”

  “You will not be judged by anyone. That is not our place.”

  “I’m sure I probably made a lot of girls mad at me.”

  “Those girls have moved on with their lives, too. They will have forgiven you as is our way. We all did silly things when we were young.”

  “Not you, Mamm!” Rebecca gasped in mock horror.

  “I’m sure I did. I’m sure my mamm sighed in relief when I grew up and joined the church.”

  “I know I caused you and Daed a lot of concern and heartache. It’s a wonder your hair isn’t completely gray. I am so sorry, and I’m so glad you believed me and accepted me back. I will join the church, Mamm. Now I know that is what I want.”

  “I believe you, dear one. Now, get ready for the frolic. You can put aside your own cares while helping someone else. No one will criticize you, and you might just have fun.”

  Rebecca shrugged her shoulders, but set her cup down and pushed back from the table. Fun was something she wasn’t sure about, but she could help Lena out with something. The poor girl had looked pretty worn out at church on Sunday. She was maybe five years older than Rebecca’s nineteen years, but she looked much older. Apparently this new pregnancy on top of caring for two other little ones was taking a toll on Lena’s strength, and possibly her health. The diagnosis of her husband’s cancer and his untimely
death surely added additional stress. Her two little girls were as cute as could be but had been quite rambunctious on Sunday. Since Lena’s family had moved to Indiana several years ago, she probably felt pretty alone, and about at wits’ end, despite the community’s support.

  “I’ll go with you, Mamm. Lena looks like she could use all the help she can get.”

  * * *

  Rebecca slapped a hand to her head to hold her bonnet on as the wind threatened to snatch it off as soon as she stepped out of the gray buggy. A few other buggies already lined the Troyers’ driveway. Rebecca reached inside for the basket of baked treats at the same time Sylvia reached for them. “I’ll take them, Mamm. It will give me something to do with my hands besides pick my nails.”

  “Don’t be nervous, Becky. You’ve known these folks all your life.”

  “Jah, but things are different now. I’ve been fodder for gossip for months, I’m sure. I know people elbowed each other and whispered about me before, but now it’s worse. I’m the prodigal.”

  “You just hold your head up and smile.”

  “I’ll try, Mamm, but I feel so guilty causing you so much shame.”

  Sylvia grabbed her dochder’s arm. “I love you. It took a lot of courage for you to return home. I am not ashamed of you.”

  “What about when people find out about . . .” Rebecca glanced down at her midsection.

  “Bopplin are always a blessing. Everyone will rejoice with us.”

  Outwardly, maybe. Rebecca could imagine the twitterings and whisperings that would occur once her news sizzled along the grapevine. “I hope so, Mamm.”

  “Let’s get inside. This air has a definite bite today.”

  Rebecca crept into the kitchen to leave her basket. To her dismay, she practically plowed into Malinda Stauffer on her way out. “Ach, Malinda! I’m sorry.” She reached out a hand but yanked it back for fear Malinda wouldn’t want Rebecca to touch her.

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you came, Becky.”