A Cousin's Promise (3 page)

A feeling of heaviness settled on Loraine’s chest as she looked out the front window of her father’s buggy. A slow parade of black buggies inched their way up the hill toward the cemetery. Two funerals in one day; it was too much to bear. First Raymond’s service this morning, and now they were about to bury Timothy.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Paul’s funeral would be tomorrow, and many of the Amish from her community would attend his contemporary service as well. Paul and his wife, Rachel, had moved to Goshen five years ago, and he’d begun driving for the Amish soon after that. They were a middle-aged, childless couple, with no family living in the area. Loraine figured now that Paul was gone, Rachel would probably move back to Pennsylvania, where two of her sisters lived.

“We’re here,” Dad said as he guided their horse and buggy into the grassy area outside the cemetery.

When Loraine and her family climbed down from the buggy, her gaze came to rest on the open-bed hearse holding Timothy’s coffin. Her heart pounded as the oilcloth cover was lifted and the coffin was carried to the gravesite. The mourners followed solemnly behind.

Once the coffin was set in place, the bishop read a hymn: “Ah, good night to those I love so; Good night to my heart’s desire; Good night to those hearts full of woe; Out of love they weep distressed. Tho’ I from you pass away; In the grave you lay my clay; I will rise again securely, Greet you in eternity.”

Loraine glanced at Timothy’s parents, Calvin and Ruby. Calvin’s shoulders shook as he struggled with his emotions, and Ruby, sobbing uncontrollably, had to be held up by her husband and oldest son, William.

A group of men sang a song while the grave was filled in by the pallbearers. Loraine’s gaze went to Katie, leaning on her mother’s shoulder. The poor girl’s face looked drawn, and dark circles under her eyes underscored her exhaustion. She probably hadn’t slept much since the day of the accident. Katie’s vacant stare sent chills up Loraine’s spine. It wasn’t a look of acceptance; it was a look of defeat.

When the song ended, the bishop asked the congregation to silently pray the Lord’s Prayer. As the others moved away from the gravesite, Katie remained near Timothy’s grave, rocking back and forth on her heels. Finally, Katie’s father led her away.

As Loraine walked back to her father’s buggy, she lifted her tearful gaze to the cloudless sky.
Help Katie and all of us who are hurting today. I thank You, Lord, that Wayne’s still alive. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.

When Ella entered the Lehmans’ house, where the second meal of the day would soon be served, she spotted Katie in one corner of the living room, standing in front of the window with a vacant stare.

Ella stepped up to her cousin and clasped her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Katie blinked several times, as though waking up from a dream.
“Umkummes waar net not wendich,”
she said, as tears coursed down her cheeks.

Ella nodded. “I know his death was unnecessary, but—”

“It’s my fault he’s dead. I shouldn’t have made such a fuss over that bee. If I’d kept quiet, Timothy would still be alive.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were afraid of being stung.” Ella slipped her arm around Katie’s trembling shoulders. “Blaming won’t bring my
bruder
or your
beau
back. We need to somehow move on with our lives and believe that God has taken our loved ones home to be with Him.”

Katie’s chin quivered. “Do we really know that? I mean, how can we know what was in their hearts the moment they died?”

Ella swallowed around the lump pushing against her throat. She missed Raymond so much. If she had the power to bring him back, she surely would. But heaven was a much better place. “We know that they lived like Christians and had acknowledged Jesus as their Savior when they joined the church.” She squeezed Katie’s fingers. “We have to believe that they’re in heaven.”

Katie pursed her lips and resumed staring out the window.

Ella gave Katie a hug and moved away. She’d been putting up a brave front all day and needed some time to be alone.

“Are you all right?” Loraine asked when she stepped onto the porch and found Ella sitting on the porch swing, massaging her forehead.

“I have a headache. I think it’s from holding back the tears.”

“You shouldn’t hold them back. It’s okay to show your emotions, you know.” Loraine took a seat beside Ella.

“I need to be strong for my mamm. If I give in to my tears, I’m afraid she’ll fall apart.” Ella rested her hand on Loraine’s arm. “Will you be going to see Wayne soon?”

“Jah. Would you like to go along? It might do you some good to get away from here for a while.”

“I can’t. My family will be going home soon, and I need to stay close to Mama for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t be right for me to desert her when she’s grieving so hard.”

“I understand.”

“I spoke with Jolene’s parents earlier. They said once Jolene’s well enough to leave the hospital, she’ll be going to Pennsylvania to stay with her aunt who teaches sign language.”

Loraine nodded. “I heard that, too. Not being able to hear will be a challenge for Jolene. She’ll be able to cope better if she’s given the necessary skills.”

“Jah.”

“My ride should be here soon, so I’d better say good-bye to Timothy’s family.”

“When you see Wayne and Jolene, give them my love and let them both know that they’re in my thoughts and prayers.”

“I will.” Loraine gave Ella a hug and went back inside.

She’d just told Timothy’s folks good-bye, when Ada stepped up to her.

“I’d rather you not go to the hospital today.”

“How come?”

“It upsets Wayne too much when he sees you.”

Loraine’s fingers curled into the palms of her hands until they dug into her flesh. “Wayne’s upset about losing his leg. I don’t think seeing me upsets him.”

“Jah, it does. One of the nurses told me that he sinks into depression after your visits.”

“Maybe that’s because he misses my daughter so much,” Loraine’s father said, stepping between them.

Loraine smiled inwardly. Danki,
Dad. Thanks for sticking up for me.

Ada’s face colored a deep crimson. “My son’s in a lot of pain right now—physically and emotionally.” She looked at Loraine and squinted. “I think it would be best if you give him some time to deal with things on his own, don’t you?”

Loraine shook her head. “I—I can’t do that. He needs me!” She rushed out of the house before Ada could reply. She was Wayne’s fiancée, and she would see him today no matter what his mother said!

With a multitude of swirling emotions swimming in her head, Loraine entered Jolene’s hospital room. She and Jolene had been close since they were little girls, just as they had been with Ella and Katie. Loraine hated to see Jolene leave, yet she knew going to Pennsylvania would probably be a good thing. She just hoped Jolene wouldn’t decide to stay there permanently—she would miss her too much.

Jolene offered Loraine a feeble smile, and motioned her over to the bed.

Loraine took a seat and reached for the notebook and pen on the nightstand by the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
she wrote.
“Are you in much pain?”
She handed the notebook to Jolene.

“The pain’s lessened some because the swelling’s going down. I’m still taking pain medication, though,” Jolene said in a voice louder than usual.

Loraine smiled and patted Jolene’s hand. She knew her cousin had spoken loudly because she couldn’t hear her own voice. Many elderly people who were hard of hearing did the same thing.

“I’m glad the pain isn’t so bad anymore,”
Loraine wrote on the notepad.

“My balance is really off, though,” Jolene said. “I have to hang on to things when I get out of bed and walk.”

“I’m sure that will get better in time,”
Loraine wrote.

Jolene’s eyes quickly filled with tears. “The hardest part of losing my hearing is knowing I won’t be able to teach school anymore. I’ll miss my scholars so much. They sent me a card they’d all signed, and I cried the whole time I read it.” Her voice broke on a sob, and she swiped at the wetness on her cheeks.

Loraine took the notebook again.
“Maybe after you learn to read lips and talk with your hands, you’ll be able to teach deaf students the way your aunt does.”

“I can’t think about that right now.” Jolene sniffed. “All I’m able to do is take one day at a time.”

Loraine handed Jolene a tissue.
“That’s all any of us should do,”
she wrote on the tablet.

Jolene nodded and blew her nose. “How’s Wayne doing? Did you just come from seeing him?”

“I haven’t been there yet,”
she wrote
. “I’ll go to his room after I’m done visiting with you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be at Timothy’s and Raymond’s funerals today. How’d things go?”

Tears clouded Loraine’s vision so she could barely see what she wrote.
“Ruby’s taking Timothy’s death pretty hard, and Katie’s dealing with it by shutting everyone out. Ella’s trying to be strong for everyone in her family—especially her mamm, who’s grieving very hard for Raymond.”

“It must be terrible for all of them. I can’t imagine how my family would feel if my bruder had been killed.” Jolene yawned, and her eyes fluttered shut. “Forgive my rudeness. I guess the pain medicine’s catching up to me.”

“That’s okay. I’ll head over to Wayne’s room now and let you sleep,”
Loraine wrote.

“Come back soon.”

Loraine nodded and squeezed Jolene’s fingers, and then she rose from the chair and slipped quietly from the room. It grieved her to think that Jolene would never hear again. No more listening to warbling birds, bubbling brooks, buzzing bees, the
clippety-clop
of horses’ hooves, or the gentle whispering of tree branches blowing in the wind.

God, grant my deaf cousin a sense of peace, and keep her safe when she travels to Pennsylvania,
Loraine prayed.

When she approached Wayne’s room, she paused outside the door and whispered another prayer. “Dear Lord, give me the right words today, and help Wayne to be more receptive than the last time I was here.”

Wayne had been trying with little success to read a magazine, when he heard someone step into his room. He turned his head toward the door, and the rhythm of his heartbeat picked up speed. It was Loraine.

“How are you doing?” she asked, approaching his bed.

“About the same.”

She pulled out the chair by the side of his bed and sat down. “I thought you might like to know how the funerals went today.”

He nodded and set the magazine aside.

Tears clung to her lashes as she looked at him. “Timothy’s and Raymond’s families are deeply grieved, as is Katie. It was a sad time for all.”

“Figured it would be.” He winced and looked away.

“Are you in great pain?”

He shook his head. “The medicine they give me takes care of that fairly well, but I’m sure I’ll have even more struggles once I’m home and the phantom pains begin.”

“What’s phantom pain?”

“I’ve been told that it feels as if the missing limb is still there. The doctor said it might feel like someone’s twisting my foot up to my knees, even though there’s no leg there.”

Loraine grimaced. “That sounds baremlich! Isn’t there something that can be done about it?”

“Just pain medicine, and that might need to be adjusted. I’ll be going home in a few days.” He sighed. “I guess that’s when the challenges will really begin.”

“So soon? I thought they might keep you longer—until you could be fitted for a prosthesis.”

“If I decide to wear one, that’ll come later. I’ll have to use a wheelchair for now.” He stared out the window, wishing she would stop asking questions and quit looking at him with such sympathy. It made him feel like even less of a man than he already did.

“Have you been to see Jolene?” Wayne asked, needing a change of subject.

“Jah. I went there before coming here.”

“How’s she doing?”

“As well as can be expected. She’ll be getting out of the hospital soon. Then she’ll be going to stay with her aunt in Pennsylvania who teaches the deaf.” Loraine’s eyebrows pulled together as she frowned. “So many changes for so many of our friends, and all because of one terrible, senseless accident.”

He leaned into the pillow and groaned. “What’s done is done. We’re not God. We can’t change the past.”

Several minutes ticked by, then she reached for Wayne’s hand. “When we get married and start our own family, I hope we can teach them to appreciate each other and make good decisions.”

He pulled his hand away as he shook his head. “There will be no family for us because I can’t marry you, Loraine.”

“Why not?”

“I told you before.” He grunted and motioned to his leg. “With only one good leg, how do you expect me to farm?”

“Well, maybe after you get a prosthesis—”

“If I can’t farm, I can’t earn a living!”

“There are other things you can do, Wayne.”

He slowly shook his head. “I’ve never wanted to do anything but farm, and I won’t burden my wife with having to care for an ugly, crippled, half-man.”

“You’re not ugly or half a man.” She shook her head. “And you won’t be a burden. Once you adjust to an artificial leg, you’ll be able to do many things on your own.”

“I won’t hold you to your promise to marry me,” he mumbled. He folded his arms and stared at the wall. “We’re not getting married, so you’re free to move on with your life.”

“I don’t want to move on with my life. Not without you, Wayne.” A hint of sweet-smelling soap wafted to meet Wayne’s nose as she stood and leaned close to him.

“I’ve made up my mind; we’re not getting married,” he said determinedly.

Her eyes filled with tears. “You can’t mean that.”

“Jah, I do.”

“Has your mother been talking to you about us? Has she said something to turn you away from me?”

Wayne shook his head. “Mom has nothing to do with this. I make my own decisions.”

She clasped his arm. “Don’t shut me out of your life, Wayne. You need me now, even if you don’t realize it, and I want us to get through this together.”

“Well, I don’t.” He motioned to the door. “Please don’t come back here to see me again. It’s over between us.”

Loraine sat several seconds, staring at him as though in disbelief. Then, with a childlike cry, she rushed to the door. She stood there a few seconds with her back to him, then turned and said, “I’m not giving up on us. We belong together!”

As the door closed behind Loraine, Wayne squeezed his eyes shut.
Oh, dear Lord, have I done the right thing?
The thought of living without Loraine was unbearable. It wouldn’t be any life at all. Yet he couldn’t ask her to marry him the way he was now. He had to remain firm in his decision.