The Protective One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

But being smart wasn’t only what she was. Did he see that?

  He kept talking. “You are also strong. Jah, you have fortitude.”

  She was at sea. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Sure you do.” While she gaped at him, he nodded. “You never contemplate selfish acts.”

  Everything he was saying sounded awfully old-fashioned. “David, what is on your mind?”

  He crossed one leg over another, like a proper old man from the Victorian age. “Come now, you know who I’m thinking of.”

  His look, even in the dim light, was pointed. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know what you are referring to.”

  David pushed off the swing and stood in front of her. “Not what. Who.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Of course, I’m talking about that man.”

  “What man?” She was becoming exasperated.

  “That man you used to know,” he said impatiently.

  She decided to match his tone. “Stop speaking in riddles.”

  “Fine. I’m talking about Andy Warner.”

  He was speaking of Andy? A chill entered her body and settled in. Wrapping her arms around her middle, E.A. took a deep, fortifying breath. Anything to stop the sudden rush of tears that had just filled her eyes.

  “David, Andy was my friend, not just some man I used to know.” Actually, he’d been so much more than that. He’d been the Eights’ leader, and their instigator. More than once he’d been her protector.

  He’d been that way with everyone.

  Sadness filled her as she thought of the boy he’d been. Oh, he’d been so many things. Loud and handsome and caustic. Yet, so very kind, too. He’d been a jumble of emotions and personality traits. He’d been complicated.

  Just like she was.

  Propping his hands on his hips, David looked at her directly. “Well, Andy Warner might have been your friend—”

  “No, he was my friend,” she said firmly. “Andy was one of my best friends.”

  He grunted. “All I’m trying to say is that he must not have felt the same way about you.”

  Elizabeth Anne gaped at him, shocked. “Of course he did. Why would you say that?” What she meant to say was How could you say such a thing to me?

  “Come now. He killed himself. That’s the most selfish, weak act a person can do.”

  “Don’t say that.” One, two tears slid down her cheeks. “You don’t know.”

  “All I’m saying is that no man who cares about his friends, who really cares about his friends, would take his own life.”

  Her temper flared. “You need to stop,” she ordered, her voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t know Andy at all. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He stood up straighter, almost as if he were a parent delivering a lecture to a recalcitrant child. “I’m sorry if my words made you upset, but you know I’m right, Elizabeth Anne. All I’m doing is pointing out the truth.”

  “No, you’re spouting off your wrong opinions like you have a right to say them.”

  “I do. I have every right.”

  Not about Andy. Looking at him directly, E.A. wondered why she’d ever thought David could be the man for her. Getting to her feet, she said, “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  But he didn’t budge an inch. “Are you really going to get upset with me about this?”

  Yes. Yes, she was. She was finally going to get upset with him about a lot of things. About the way he timed his visits. How he only called her by her full name. And never tried to get to know her other friends. Or held her hand.

  But most of all, she was going to make him leave because she was finally admitting to herself that she deserved better. Someone much better.

  “Yes, I am,” she said finally. “I do believe I’m going to be very upset with you.”

  He sighed, like he thought she was being overly dramatic and would soon collapse in a fit of vapors or something. “I see. Well, then, I guess I should be going.” He stood and walked down the front steps. “I certainly hope you will be in better spirits when I come calling next Saturday night.”

  A quick vision entered her head—a vision of the two of them sitting on this blasted front porch swing again and again. Never doing anything but talking about the weather and their jobs. Never noticing the fireflies. Never being anything more.

  She couldn’t do it.

  “David, don’t come back next Saturday night.”

  He turned around. “Say again?”

  “I said for you not to come calling on me next Saturday.” Feeling relieved that the decision was made, she continued, “In fact, I think it would be best if you didn’t come back here again.”

  His eyebrows rose so high, they hid under the brim of his hat. “You’re going to stay mad at me for that long?”

  “No. I’m going to finally move on. We’re done.”

  He looked incredulous. Went so far as to reach out a hand to almost touch her. “We can’t be done, Elizabeth Anne. What about all the time we’ve put into this?”

  “This isn’t about time spent courting, David. This is about the fact that we are too different. I mean, you don’t even understand how much Andy meant to me.” And how hard it had been to lose him.

  His expression hardened. “What will our parents say? They’re counting on this match.”

  But she didn’t want to be in a “match.” She wanted to be in love. Realizing that David would never understand that, she muttered, “They will have to be disappointed then.” Just as she was.

  “But—”

  “Good night and goodbye,” she said over her shoulder.

  Even though he was still staring at her in shock, practically frozen, she strode inside.

  She was fuming. She was so mad, her skin felt clammy and a bead of sweat was running down her brow.

  “Has it been thirty minutes already?” Daed asked as Elizabeth closed the door firmly.

  She took a deep breath and attempted to answer her sweet father in a calm tone of voice. “Jah.”

  “Ah. Well, yes. I guess it has, indeed, been David’s allotted thirty minutes.” Her father, who everyone said looked a bit like Santa Claus, smiled at her.

  Reluctantly, she smiled back at him.

  After folding the latest issue of the Budget on his lap, he looked at her over the rims of his reading glasses. “Well, how was your beau tonight?”

  For a moment, E.A. contemplated sharing with her father what had happened. Thought about explaining her feelings and how she knew there had to be someone better suited for her than David.

  But if she did that, Daed would call for her mother, Mamm would rush in, and then the three of them would have a “cozy discussion” that would last for at least an hour. There was no way she was up for that.

  “He was the same as always,” she finally said as she started up the stairs.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “I’m sorry, Daed, I’ve got to, um, go to the bathroom.” He looked taken aback, but nodded, leaving her alone with her thoughts as she climbed the steep stairs to her attic bedroom.

  Yes, David had been the same. Not very romantic, not very perceptive. It wasn’t even the first time he’d mentioned how mystified he was about Andy’s death and her continued mourning of him.

  She was the one who’d become different. Someone who wanted more, someone who felt she deserved more.

  Or, maybe, just maybe, she’d at last become her real self. The person she’d meant to be all along.

  TWO

  “Anyway, from what I understand, Marie was given her crown during the middle of a football game, then she got to wear it when she went to the dance.

  “She’d been supposed to go to the dance with our friend Andy, but he’d been pressured to take a daughter of one of his parents’ neighbors. So she ended up going with another boy, who basically abandoned her after the dance, which left her without a ride home.

  “Well, you can i
magine how that must have felt. Marie got on the phone and started calling all of us in order to get a ride.

  “I was the only one who picked up.”

  JULY

  “Some days, it’s hard to believe we work at the same place, Will,” John Byler said as they walked out of the trailer factory. “It’s been two days since we’ve said much more than good morning to each other.”

  A number of thoughts flew through Will’s head—most of them sounding rather critical even to his own ears. Though they’d been friends for most of their lives, their relationship had shifted, thanks to John’s recent marriage and recent promotion.

  But it wasn’t like he could bring up such a thing, it would only sound selfish. “We’ve been blessed to have so much work. Ain’t so?”

  Falling into step next to him, John B. glanced at him in surprise. “Didn’t expect to hear that from you.”

  The comment didn’t sit well. “How come? You don’t think I’m a hard worker?”

  “Nee … I was thinking more along the lines that it isn’t like you to fall back onto trite phrases.”

  Trite? “It ain’t trite if the saying is true. Work is a good thing, for sure and for certain.”

  John rolled his eyes. “Come on, Will. It’s you and me are talking here, not you and the bishop.”

  “I’m aware of that.” He was also aware that John wouldn’t likely be talking to the bishop after church ever again. He’d recently married his longtime crush, Marie Hartman. And while Will was glad for both of them—they really were meant for each other—he also couldn’t deny that John’s becoming English for Marie and their life together had been hard for him.

  In some ways, Will had felt like he’d just lost his best friend.

  “You’re acting like there’s something wrong,” John said. “What is it? Is this about my new job?”

  “Of course not.” John was a talented artist and had recently been given a promotion of sorts. Now he worked in the offices near their boss. He also met with clients and at times even traveled for work. It was a far cry from working on the assembly line like Will did.

  “Is it Marie?”

  “Don’t be daft. You know I love Marie.” She was as much a part of the Eight as any of them.

  “What is it, then?” Frustration laced John’s words. “You know you can trust me, Will.”

  “Of course I can. But there is nothing to talk about.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” And he was telling the truth. Though he was feeling restless and out of sorts, it surely wasn’t anything for John to worry about. Hoping to end their awkward discussion, Will pulled out his sunglasses and placed them on his eyes.

  “All right … but if you want to talk about things, I’m always available.”

  “Danke.”

  “Have you heard from anyone lately? Marie saw Katie at the store last week, but that’s about it.”

  “I sat with Logan at church. Tricia, too,” he added with a smile.

  John grinned. “Who would’ve ever thought that Andy’s little sister would not only end up with Logan but also become Amish?”

  “Not I.”

  “Me, neither. Is she doing any better with her Deutsch?”

  “That would be no.” Thinking of the many ways Tricia Warner could mangle even the simplest words, Will chuckled. “If we ever doubted Logan’s love for her, those doubts would be erased now. He’s as patient with her lessons as a mother hen with new chicks.”

  “I never thought of Logan as being a motherly sort, but I imagine the comparison is apt. So, tell me how Eli’s been on the line.”

  “As cantankerous as ever. And he’s still complaining about his wife to whoever will listen.”

  “What’s the latest story? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of miss his complaints.”

  Glad to have something else to talk about, Will shared Eli’s latest gripes, laughing with John at the older man’s penchant for finding fault with most anything. Even with his mighty patient wife.

  As they walked, the sun on his shoulders and the faint breeze on his skin encouraged his worries to subside. Yes, their relationship might have shifted, but they were still gut friends. And the day had been a good one.

  Twenty minutes later, they stood at the corner of Third and Maple to part ways. John would head left to his home with Marie, and Will would walk another mile and a half to his family’s farm.

  “What hours do you work tomorrow?” Will asked.

  John’s expression turned guarded. “Um, actually, I won’t be in for the next two days. I’m going with Mr. Kerrigan to deliver a trailer and to discuss designs for another with a potential client.”

  “Where to?”

  “Indianapolis.”

  Will whistled low, trying not to feel a pang of jealousy. “That’s far.”

  “Yeah, but not too bad. It will be quicker coming back than driving out.”

  “Oh. Sure.” He smiled tightly. “Well, have a good trip. I’ll be seeing you.”

  John clasped his arm. “Hey, Will?”

  “Jah?”

  “I know things have changed, but I don’t want us to drift further apart. Let’s try to do this walk at least once a week. It’s a good way for us to catch up, ain’t so?”

  Will wasn’t sure if he agreed. A walk wasn’t going to bridge the gap that had grown between them. If anything, he reckoned it would emphasize it.

  But if it made John happy to pretend that they could get back to how they used to be, Will could pretend to do that, too. “Anytime we’re both free, I’m game,” he said. Boy, he hoped he didn’t sound as lukewarm as he felt.

  “Gut,” John replied. Looking straight ahead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, something Will knew he didn’t usually do unless he was feeling uneasy or awkward. “You know what? Maybe I’ll ask Marie to round up everyone. We could have you guys over for supper or something. That would be great.”

  John and Marie. Logan and Tricia. Harley and Katie. Finishing off the group would be Elizabeth Anne and Kendra. And him, the lone man. That didn’t hold a lot of appeal.

  But still, Will nodded. “Jah,” he said. “That sounds gut. Danke.”

  John slowed. “Are you sure? Because you sound kind of off all of a sudden.”

  “I’m sure. Now, I’ve got to get going,” he said quickly, hoping to fend off any more questions. “I’ll be seeing ya.” He raised a hand. “Bye.”

  John raised a hand, too, but it hung kind of limply in the air, looking just as taken aback as his expression. “Bye, Will.”

  After he turned away, Will at last allowed his strained smile to fall. And because he was alone, he gave in to his burst of doldrums. It wasn’t good, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  All around him, everyone was changing, moving forward, making decisions about their future while he, on the other hand, was stuck firmly in place. Worse, he’d been stuck there for quite some time.

  He’d always been the caretaker, the good friend, the helpful member of the Eight. He’d looked out for his friends and family and tried to be there for them so they wouldn’t be alone. It was all good, and now he was seeing the product of all his efforts. His friends were happy and secure, but he’d spent so much time focusing on them that he’d forgotten about himself. Now he was at loose ends while everyone else was moving forward with their jobs and falling in love. Even his siblings seemed more settled than he was.

  He was now afraid that if he didn’t do something different, he was going to be left behind, alone and forgotten.

  Actually, he feared he already was.

  THREE

  “I am Mennonite, so I could drive and had access to a car. I didn’t have a lot of experience driving it because I had just turned sixteen. Not that it mattered. When Marie called on the verge of tears, I didn’t hesitate. In no time at all, I snuck out my window, got in my mother’s car that was parked on the street, and was ready to pick up Marie and save the day.

/>   “Well, me and Katie and John and Harley, that is.”

  THURSDAY

  Trying hard not to think about the odds of her being late for work, E.A. took three tentative steps, peeked to her right, and paused. Then, when she found no one about, she eased her bicycle down their driveway, and started peddling as fast as she could past David’s house.

  This system, which she’d now been following for five days, was her new reality.

  It had already gotten old, too.

  Last Saturday, when she’d finally had enough of David and told him they were over, she hadn’t thought about the consequences of it. Well, not beyond no longer having to suffer through his weekly half-hour courting calls. However, she was learning that breaking up with David affected other people, too.

  Her parents were now starting to ask questions about David’s absence. She was going to have to tell them the truth, and that wouldn’t be good.

  Though they’d often teased her about David’s rather awkward courting habits, she’d known they’d been pleased about the two of them being a couple.

  After all, they’d lived next door and been best friends with the Brennan family for years and years. When E.A. finally got up the nerve to admit that she had broken things off, the news wasn’t going to be welcomed.

  Especially not by her mother, who E.A. feared was secretly planning their nuptials.

  Just thinking about that conversation made her feel guilty. Hating the fact that she was letting her parents’ opinions affect her own—especially since she hadn’t even told them yet—E.A. pedaled the bike harder up the hill. When her thighs started burning, she wondered why she’d decided to ride her bike to work anyway. She always regretted it.

  Usually, she walked. Every now and then, she drove one of their two cars. Because she was Mennonite, most people thought they were Englischers.

  She wasn’t. Though she did have a computer and a cell phone and drove a car, she was still not “plugged in” twenty-four seven. And while she’d gone to high school and had even considered going to college, her high school had been a private one that had catered to Mennonites.

  In addition, she had waited to be baptized until she’d been twenty, wore dresses instead of slacks, and also wore a small covering on her head. However, those dresses weren’t especially Plain. Instead, they were constructed of printed fabric. In addition, the covering on her head was really only a small piece of lace, nothing like the kapp her Amish friends wore.