The Reconciliation

by Susan Lantz Simpson

  “True, but they are widows and widowers.”

  “It’s sort of the same situation with you.”

  “Ha!” Becky clapped her hand over her mouth, afraid her loud exclamation might have woken Matthew. A quick peek at the cradle told her the infant was still sleeping peacefully and soundly, completely oblivious to the two women in the room with him. “My situation is hardly the same.”

  “Sure it is. Your boppli’s daed has passed on.” Lena held up a hand to prevent Becky’s interruption. “You believed you were married. You can’t help it that the man you believed in and trusted lied to you. When he died, that sort of made you a widow.”

  “You have strange logic.”

  Lena shrugged her bony shoulders. “Anyway, it wouldn’t hurt you to give whatever matters Atlee mentioned some serious thought and prayer.”

  “I can’t let Atlee throw his life away on me. You’ve got to help me.”

  “Atlee Stauffer couldn’t possibly find anyone better than you. I firmly believe that. I won’t do anything to cause him to think you aren’t a wunderbaar person.”

  “You could help me find him a special girl to care about.”

  “Atlee has found one all on his own. You need to think about that. And don’t take forever, either. You don’t want to let such a gut man slip away.” Lena nudged Becky with her elbow. “And stop touching your cheek.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “How was your supper?” Saloma dried her hands on a blue-checked dish towel as she turned to face her son.

  “Fine. It was fine.”

  “Did you get enough to eat? I just put leftovers in the refrigerator.”

  “I got plenty to eat.”

  “Did Becky actually do the cooking?” Malinda asked.

  Atlee fixed his sister with a glare. “Jah, Malinda. Becky did the cooking. We had beef stew and corn bread and fudge brownies for dessert.”

  “It sounds like a nice meal,” Saloma said soothingly.

  “I wasn’t trying to be mean,” Malinda clarified. “I didn’t know if Becky knew how to cook.”

  “Everything was tasty. Lena’s son looked healthy.” Atlee hoped to steer the conversation away from Becky.

  “Is Lena getting along well, then? I need to get over to see her again.” Saloma hung the towel on a hook.

  “She seemed to be fine. I think I’ll head upstairs.” Just a few more minutes and he could be out of sight of the two intuitive women who had the uncanny ability to read him like a book. He threw in an exaggerated yawn for effect.

  “Gut nacht, Bruder.” Malinda squeezed Atlee’s arm as he scooted by her on his way out of the kitchen.

  Atlee almost made it out the door when another hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks. He tried to brace himself for whatever his mamm intended to say to him.

  “Are you sure of what you’re doing, son?”

  “What do you mean?” Playing dumb wouldn’t buy him much time, but maybe he’d get a few seconds to collect his thoughts.

  “I mean getting involved with Becky Zook.”

  “I simply had supper with Becky, Lena, and Lena’s girls.”

  “Somehow I don’t think it’s Lena Troyer you are interested in.”

  Words failed him. Atlee couldn’t meet his mamm’s eyes nor could he deny his interest in Becky. It simply wasn’t in him to lie. “I thought you forgave Becky and believed her story.”

  “I have nothing against the girl, Atlee. We all did foolish things in our youth, and we’ve all made mistakes. From what I’ve seen, Becky has matured into a fine young woman. I wonder if you’ve thought through a relationship with a woman, uh, in the family way. You would be taking on a big responsibility. You would be an instant daed—that is, if you took the relationship further than simply being freinden.”

  “I understand all that, Mamm.”

  “Do you? Pray about it, Atlee. That’s all I ask.”

  “Pray,” she said. I’ve prayed and thought so much my brain hurts. Atlee closed the door of the bedroom he used to share with his older bruder. Now Sam and Emma Swarey were happily married, if their constant smiles and tender looks were any indication. More and more often he’d found himself wanting to share such smiles and glances with someone special.

  Atlee flopped on his bed. How did Sam know for sure Emma was the right girl for him? He wished his big bruder was here right now to listen to his ramblings in the dark and to help him sort things out. But Atlee was on his own. It was totally up to him to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. It was his decision. His and the Lord Gott’s.

  Atlee wanted to do the right thing, and he firmly believed pursuing a relationship with Becky was the right thing. He was convinced of it. The thing was, he had to convince Becky they were right for each other. His mamm and family would kumm around as long as he was happy. They were a warm, loving bunch. They’d accept Becky.

  Becky. He had never given her a second glance before. Sure, he’d noticed her honey gold hair, big green eyes, and pretty face, but he had never taken her seriously. In fact, he’d been rather amused at her less-than-subtle flirtations with half the fellows her own age and even a few older ones. He’d pitied the poor fools who thought Becky actually cared for them. They’d been too blind or too besotted to see it was all a game to Becky. He and Sam had shared a few laughs over the whole business and had congratulated themselves for being smart enough to avoid Becky’s hooks.

  Now, without even trying, without any of her old flirtatious ways, Becky had reeled him in. And to his dismay, she kept trying to cast him away. For his own gut, she’d said. She believed she was tainted and not gut enough for him despite his trying to convince her otherwise. She truly had changed from that carefree, playful girl into a caring, serious woman—a woman he now thought about constantly. Dare he say a woman he loved?

  Atlee wrapped the feather pillow around his head as if he could snuff out the tormenting thoughts. If only it was that easy to empty his brain. Lord Gott, what do You want me to do? I never gave her a second thought before, but ever since our first walk together after she returned, I’ve been drawn to her like a hummingbird to sweet nectar. Atlee prayed for guidance. He prayed for peace. He wrestled with the pillow all night long as he wrestled with his thoughts.

  * * *

  How ridiculous! Becky had washed her face as she prepared for bed, careful to avoid a certain spot on her cheek. She paused in brushing her hair to put a finger to that very spot. A little tingle ran down her spine at the memory of that whisper of a kiss.

  Stop it, Becky! She dropped the hairbrush onto the dresser. Quickly she braided her thick, waist-length hair, berating her fingers all the while for their trembling. After a little more fumbling, she secured an elastic band around the end of her braid. She padded barefoot across the cold wood floor, extinguished the lamp, and crawled beneath the covers. She wiggled into a comfortable position and tugged the covers up to her chin. She sighed, squeezed her eyes closed, and waited for sleep that refused to claim her.

  Think, Lena had told her. She couldn’t turn off her thoughts. Her body might be weary, but her brain remained wide awake and flashed one picture from her life after another. It reminded her of walking through Walmart, where every gigantic television displayed a different scene. She quickly shut off the images of New York. That horrible chapter of her life was behind her. She didn’t have any desire to revisit those memories.

  Did she want to spend the rest of her life alone? She had her boppli, of course. Her right hand slid over to stroke her barely rounded belly. She loved him or her, but did she want it to be just the two of them forever? Well, until her boppli grew up and got married. Then she would be completely alone. Could she raise him or her by herself? Of course she could! Look at Lena. She now had three little ones to raise, but Becky believed Lena would remarry in time.

  It would definitely be nice to have someone to share the joys and struggles with. It would be nice to give her boppli siblings. How could she do that when she couldn’t
trust another man?

  Atlee had proven trustworthy, though, hadn’t he? He had been very caring, very concerned, very sweet. Again her fingers strayed to her cheek. She had no reason to doubt Atlee’s trustworthiness or his sincerity. He had been open and honest, and he treated her with respect. It was she who didn’t deserve him. How could she let him ruin his life? He needed to find a nice girl who hadn’t made such a mess of her life as Becky had.

  She turned onto her side, rearranged the covers, and groaned. Why couldn’t she extinguish all the images swirling in her brain like the Englischers switched off their televisions? One screen in her mind depicted her rocking an infant in the creaky swing on her parents’ front porch. Her parents would give them a home, for sure and for certain. She loved her parents, but she didn’t want to live with them all her life. She wanted a home of her own. Maybe they could build a small attachment onto their home for her.

  Another screen displayed her standing beneath a tall oak tree in the yard of some unrecognizable two-story house. A host of kinner ran around her playing tag while an infant snuggled in her arms. She could possibly marry some widower who needed a woman to care for his little ones. She could hope to grow fond of him in time. She didn’t know of any such man in her district, and the thought of leaving home again gave her goose bumps.

  The largest screen in her mind showed only one person—a tall, muscular young man with dark brown hair and kind, caring green eyes. Atlee. He filled her heart the same as he filled her mind. His image forced out all the others. Why had he sought her out on her return home? Why had he been so nice to her? She had never flirted with him or Sam. She had never tried to get his attention. She had never tried to get him to like her. For some reason she had steered clear of the Stauffer buwe. They were a bit older. She had had her twentieth birthday while she was in New York. That must make Atlee twenty-two, since he had been a couple of grades ahead of her in school. Why couldn’t she get him out of her mind? Why were her thoughts so mixed-up?

  Had Atlee been right? Had Gott put them in each other’s path for a reason? Was it His will for them to be together? Atlee had been so sure he could love her boppli and be a daed to him or her, but would he be able to do that when the time came? What if they married and had other kinner? Would he treat them differently?

  The bed squeaked in protest as Becky flipped over yet again. She tugged at the covers that had wound themselves around her and bound her like sausage in a casing. She had to get some sleep. The new day would be dawning, and Mary and Eliza would awaken with boundless energy. Lena had been growing stronger and soon would not need her to care for the house and girls. Then Becky would have to go home to await the birth of her infant. Would Atlee visit her at her parents’ house?

  Ach! Atlee again! He invaded every single thought. What should she do? If she examined her heart, she knew she cared deeply for Atlee. That was just it. She cared too much to have him face ridicule or endure whisperings because of her. Was it love to care that much about someone else’s well-being? She bolted upright. Did she love Atlee? Dear Gott, what was she to do?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “You look like you’ve been wrestling with demons all night.”

  “I feel like it, too,” Becky mumbled. She knew her puffy eyes must be rimmed with dark circles, but there was nothing she could do about it. Splashing cold water on her face had not made her feel any better. She had only dozed off for a few moments all night, and that had been right before it was time to get up. Now she was late getting downstairs and Lena was already pulling out pans to cook breakfast. “I can get this. You should rest.”

  “Honestly, you look more in need of rest than I do. I, at least, slept in between nursings. You look like you didn’t sleep a single wink.”

  “My brain wouldn’t shut down.” Becky took the pan from Lena’s hand and held it under the faucet to fill it with enough water for the oatmeal. She set it on the stove to heat and kept her back to Lena. For some reason, tears threatened to spill and she needed to keep them at bay. If she saw compassion in Lena’s eyes, it could be her undoing.

  “I’m sorry, Becky. I shouldn’t have pushed you to think about your feelings and options. It was none of my business. I certainly didn’t intend for you to stay awake all night.”

  “It isn’t your fault that my jumbled thoughts tormented me all night. I thought and prayed and thought some more.” Becky grabbed the box of oats and dumped in enough for four people.

  Lena stepped closer and grasped Becky’s upper arm. “Did you kumm to any conclusions?”

  “Ach, Lena, I-I don’t know. I . . .” She sniffed hard.

  Lena pulled Becky into her arms and patted her back in soothing circles. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I am a gut listener whenever you feel like talking.”

  Becky nodded against Lena’s shoulder. “I do care for Atlee. I can’t deny that. I care too much to let him be saddled with me.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way.”

  “He’s not thinking clearly. People will talk about him because of me. They might not say anything to his face, but they’ll whisper.” Becky pulled away from Lena’s embrace and swiped at her eyes.

  “I believe you underestimate us.”

  “I didn’t mean you, Lena.” Becky sniffed again and wished she had stuck a tissue in a pocket or up her sleeve.

  “I think most people will feel exactly as I do. They would be happy for you and Atlee and the boppli. You’d make a great little family.”

  “The boppli! That’s another thing. Atlee says he’d care for him or her, but what about later if we had our own kinner? Would he still feel the same way? Would he treat my boppli the same as ours?”

  “Now you underestimate Atlee. Your boppli would be his, too. You don’t stop loving your kinner, no matter what.”

  “It wouldn’t really be his . . .”

  “If you marry, you are family. All of you. That wouldn’t change if you added two dozen more little ones.”

  “Marriage! I don’t know if any relationship with Atlee is right.”

  “For him or for you?” Lena said, then suddenly rushed to check on her infant, who had begun to fuss in the cradle near the stove in the living room.

  For him! Becky would be happy to be Atlee’s fraa—she had reached that conclusion—but she needed to protect him and spare him any embarrassment or pain.

  * * *

  “Whew, Bruder, you look like you slept under the back wheel of the buggy, or maybe underneath a thrashing horse.”

  “Well, don’t you look lovely yourself, dear schweschder.” Atlee playfully punched Malinda’s arm, causing her to drop the apple she had been about to add to Aidan’s lunch box. It plunked off the kitchen counter and rolled across the floor.

  “Now look what you made me do!”

  “I’ll get it.” Atlee bent and captured the apple in mid-roll. He wiped it on his shirt and tossed it into his little bruder’s lunch box. “There. Gut as new.”

  “Atlee! You didn’t wash it off.”

  “Do you honestly think Aiden cares? He eats dirt and grass half the time.”

  “He does not.”

  “He certainly does! Haven’t you ever seen him playing horse in the yard? And I’m sure he’s eaten many a treat just after holding a toad in his grubby hands.” Atlee wrinkled his nose and made a disgusted face.

  Malinda burst out laughing. “You’ve got a point there, but I’m sure you did the same thing.”

  “I might have eaten cookies after holding some critter, but I don’t remember ever eating dirt.”

  “You did wash your hands after coming inside from doing chores, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. I do have some manners.”

  “Hmmm. Why the raccoon eyes?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Atlee had hoped all the joking would have diverted Malinda’s attention from his sleep-deprived appearance.

  “I believe you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

&
nbsp; “Since I don’t go around looking at myself, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “We all have restless nights, ain’t so?”

  “I suppose, but usually there is a reason for such nights.”

  Atlee shrugged. “Is breakfast ready?” He snatched a crisp strip of bacon from a plate near the stove.

  Malinda swatted at his hand. “What’s yours?”

  “What’s my what?”

  “Why are you deliberately avoiding the subject? I meant what is your reason for your sleepless night?”

  “I couldn’t get comfortable.” Atlee turned aside so Malinda couldn’t look directly into his eyes. Didn’t they say the eyes were the windows to the soul? He didn’t need Malinda looking into his soul or picking his brain. He should make his escape from the kitchen right now. A hand clamped firmly on his wrist caused a glitch in that plan.

  “You know you can talk to me, Bruder.”

  “I talk to you all the time.”

  “I mean if you have something troubling you, I can listen. Who knows? Maybe I can even help.”

  Atlee seriously doubted that. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He threw a half-hearted smile at her. “Now what do I have to do to get something more substantial than a flimsy piece of bacon to eat?”

  “You have to be patient and go sit at the table with everyone else.”

  Atlee stomped off in mock frustration. “You have to be patient.” Malinda’s words rattled around in his brain. Perhaps he’d have to exercise patience with Becky, but he’d really like to be a part of her life now and be a daed to her boppli from the very beginning.

  * * *

  “You do not need cheese, Lena.” Becky poked around the pantry, sorting through the cans and boxes on the shelves. “There are plenty of other things in here to fix.”

  “But the kinner want macaroni and cheese. I’ve kind of got a hankering for some, too.”

  “Then I’ll put cheese on the grocery list to pick up on the next trip to the store.”

  “You know the cheese from the dairy is ever so much better than that store-bought stuff that’s been wrapped in plastic packaging forever and a day.”