A Life of Joy (35 page)

“So then go to community college back near Lancaster,” Jessica said simply. “You could go to school during the day and still live with Aunt Rebecca. She’d never kick you out. You can still have the family and the friends but also get an education. I want to see you succeed. It’s my job to look out for you. I care about you.”

“Jessica, you just don’t get it. Or maybe you’re not listening
to me yet again.” Lindsay held her breath for a moment and then she shook her head and let the truth seep through her. “Jessica, the truth is that I want to be Amish. That’s why I don’t want to go to college. I’m happy and I’m content with the life I’ve built with Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Daniel. I want to be Amish, so you can just drop the college lecture.”

Jessica was silent for a moment, and Lindsay’s heart pounded in her chest. The revelation and saying the words out loud made her feel a little light-headed. She’d finally figured out where she belonged, and the knowledge seemed to set her free from the burden of her anxiety.

“Well, I have to go,” Jessica finally said. “Kim is ready to head out. We’re having dinner with Eddie and some of his friends. We can continue this conversation later.”

“Fine,” Lindsay said standing up and brushing the sand off her jumper. “I don’t think there’s anything else to say. I’ll never be like you, and I’m tired of you trying to change me. As I’ve said before, if you can’t respect me, then we have nothing to talk about.”

“Lindsay, don’t take it that way,” Jessica said. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“Look, I gotta go too,” Lindsay said. “Have fun with your friends.” She disconnected the call and climbed the stairs leading back into the kitchen, where she found Frank scooping vanilla ice cream into a bowl.

He faced her and gave her a concerned expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Lindsay said, pulling the sliding glass door closed with a whoosh.

Frank held up the scoop. “Would you like some?”

“Sure,” Lindsay said, placing the cell phone onto the table. She opened the cabinet and pulled out a white bowl. She contemplated her conversation with Jessica and her revelation while Frank filled the bowls with ice cream and then smothered it with chocolate sauce.

“I hope you like a lot of chocolate,” he said, carrying the bowls to the table.

Lindsay fetched two spoons from the drawer and sat across from him. “Thank you.”

“Did you call Jessica?” he asked, nodding toward her phone.

“Yeah,” Lindsay said, frowning despite the delicious dessert.

Frank gave her a suspicious expression. “You don’t look happy. Did Jessica give you a hard time about your GED?”

Lindsay shook her head and studied her bowl of ice cream. “She told me she was proud of me and then she started nagging me about college again. I’ve had enough of her constant criticism. It’s time she stopped hassling me about it.”

Frank scooped more ice cream into his mouth and then swiped his sprouting goatee with a paper napkin. “I’ve never told you this, but my older brother is a lot like Jessica.”

“Really?” Lindsay placed her spoon in the bowl and studied Frank with surprise. “I had no idea.”

“That’s part of the reason why he and I don’t talk much,” he explained. “Dean had ideas about what I should do with my life, and I had my own ideas. He never understood why I didn’t join the family business and stay in Roanoke or have children like he did. But Trisha and I wanted different things. It was our choice not to have children, and it was our choice to build a house here at the beach. I got to the point where I couldn’t stand his comments and I stopped answering the phone when I saw his number come up. I also avoided visiting my parents’ place when I knew he was there.”

Lindsay frowned. “So you think I should stop talking to Jessica.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t say that. But I do think that you should trust your own judgment and not let Jessica’s words get to you.”

Lindsay shook her head. “I know I should, but she seems to always upset me.”

“I know.” He folded his arms across his chest. “My brother’s words used to cut me like a knife, but one morning I woke up and realized that I was my own person. We may have the same parents, but we are different people. You and Jessica are siblings, and you share the same DNA. But you’re Lindsay, and she’s Jessica. You’ll never be the same. Don’t let her push you into something you don’t want. Your happiness is what matters.”

She felt some of the tension ease in her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“When you feel yourself getting frustrated by her words, pray about it.” He lifted his spoon. “I believe in the power of prayer. It’s helped me a lot over the years.”

“It’s helped me too,” Lindsay said softly.

“You’re a very special girl,” he said. “Don’t let Jessica’s words damage your spirit. Promise me that you won’t give Jessica the power to ruin the things that matter most to you.”

“I promise.” She smiled.

They talked and laughed about different subjects before finishing their ice cream and heading to bed. After changing into her nightclothes, Lindsay stared at the ceiling and tried to stop Jessica’s words from echoing through her mind. Her sister had managed to take the joy out of her accomplishment.

Closing her eyes, she sent a prayer up to God, asking Him to give her a sign of where she belonged and what she was meant to do with her life.

Both Frank’s words and Lindsay’s decision to be Amish echoed through Lindsay’s mind as she made her way past the line of wheelchairs in the nursing home the following morning. She’d fallen asleep thinking of Frank and Dean and the way that Frank managed to ignore and disregard Dean’s criticism. She wished she had that strength. She hoped that she could squelch the
anger and frustration Jessica gave her every time she harassed Lindsay about furthering her education.

“Lindsay!” a voice hollered. “Lindsay!”

Spinning, Lindsay found Gina rushing toward her.

“It’s so good to see you,” Gina said, sidling up to her. “I think Mrs. Fisher has been asking about you. She’ll be very excited to visit with you again.”

“Good,” Lindsay said. “How is she doing?”

Gina gave a halfhearted nod. “I think she’s okay. She seems to have a bit of congestion and a cough, but I think she’ll be just fine.”

Lindsay and Gina walked to Mrs. Fisher’s room.

“Thank you for spending time with her,” Gina said. “Mrs. Fisher hasn’t had a visitor in a very long time, and I think you’re a blessing in her life.” She patted Lindsay’s arm before heading down the hallway.

Lindsay smiled.
I’m a blessing in her life
.

She again thought of Frank’s words from last night. No, she wouldn’t give Jessica the power to make her feel worthless. Bringing joy to a woman like Mrs. Fisher was just as worthy, if not more worthy, than pursuing a bachelor’s degree.

Lindsay greeted Mrs. Fisher’s roommate, who was eating a piece of toast and watching television, and then crossed to Mrs. Fisher’s side of the room.

Mrs. Fisher looked up from her dish of scrambled eggs and toast.

“Wie geht’s,”
Lindsay said, sitting in the plastic chair next to her.

“Gut,”
Mrs. Fisher said. “It’s
gut
to see you.”

“You too,” Lindsay responded in
Dietsch
. “How are you feeling?”

Mrs. Fisher shook her head and pointed to her chest. “I have a bad cough, and my chest feels very tight.”

“I’ll tell Gina.” Lindsay stood, and Mrs. Fisher reached out and took her hand.

“Please stay and visit with me,” Mrs. Fisher said. “Tell me about your week.”

Lindsay shared her news about passing the GED and also talked about going to the movies with Vicki and spending time with Taylor. While she was talking, Mrs. Fisher listened and finished her breakfast.

While Lindsay watched Mrs. Fisher straighten her prayer covering, she wondered how she felt about her daughter leaving the Amish community.

“Do you miss your
dochder
?” Lindsay asked while crossing her legs and smoothing the skirt of her jumper.

Mrs. Fisher frowned. “Very much.”

“Do you hear from her?”

The elderly lady shook her head. “I was not happy when she left our church district. I should’ve been more supportive of her when she married an English man, but my Mary never forgave me for telling her that she’d made a mistake by leaving the church. I never accepted her husband, and I wasn’t a
gut mammi
to her
kinner.”
She covered her mouth as a deep, rattling cough stole her breath and her words for a few moments.

Lindsay stood and poured a cup of water from the pitcher on Mrs. Fisher’s lunch table.

After drinking several sips, the elderly lady caught her breath and continued her story. “When I became
grank
after my husband died, Mary put me in this home instead of letting me live with her. I wish she would forgive me. She came to see me the day before she moved to California, but I was too proud to apologize. I wish I could take back my mistake and tell her how much I love and miss her.”

Lindsay spotted a notepad on the dresser, and an idea burst into her mind. “Do you have Mary’s address in California?”

“She sends me a Christmas card every year.” Mrs. Fisher
pointed toward the dresser. “I’ve kept every one, and they are in the top drawer over there.”

Lindsay found the pile of envelopes and cards in the drawer and opened the one on top, finding a card with photos of two little boys inside. “They’re
schee buwe
,” she said, holding up the photo of the boys wearing matching red sweaters and smiling in front of a backdrop of a Christmas tree. “You must miss them.”

A single tear trickled down Mrs. Fisher’s wrinkly cheek, and Lindsay handed her a tissue from the box on the windowsill. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Mrs. Fisher wiped her eyes and coughed. “I wish I could fix it.” Her voice rattled. “I carry so much regret.”

Lindsay plucked the notepad and a pen from the dresser. “I’ll help you write a letter to Mary.”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Fisher said. “I could never do it.”

“
Ya
, you can.” Lindsay’s head bobbed up and down with conviction. “We’ll make this right.” She took the elderly lady’s hand in hers. “We’ll do this together. I’ll write the letter and mail it on the way home.”

Mrs. Fisher coughed and then sniffed.
“Danki.”

Slowly, Mrs. Fisher dictated a letter to her in
Dietsch
, and Lindsay translated it into English and wrote it down. The elderly lady expressed her sorrow and regret for losing her daughter and asked to be forgiven and accepted back into Mary’s and her family’s life.

After she finished dictating the letter, Mrs. Fisher leaned back and closed her eyes. “I must sleep now. I’m very tired.”

Lindsay folded up the letter and stood. “You rest.” She leaned down and kissed Mrs. Fisher’s cheek. “I’ll tell Gina you’re not feeling well and I’ll come back and check on you later.”

“Danki,”
Mrs. Fisher said, taking hold of Lindsay’s hand.
“Ich
liebe dich.”

Lindsay fought back tears as she repeated the sentiment. She then moved out to the hallway, holding the letter and an
envelope with Mary’s address. She found Gina sitting behind the desk at the nurse’s station.

“Mrs. Fisher is complaining of tightness in her chest,” Lindsay said. “Her cough also sounds pretty bad.”

Gina pulled out a chart and began flipping through it. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to Cheryl and tell her to order an x-ray.” She wrote in the chart and then looked up at Lindsay. “Did you have a nice visit?”

Lindsay held up the letter. “She told me about how she’d lost touch with her daughter, and I had her dictate a letter to me. Once I find an envelope and a stamp, I’ll mail this.”

Gina gave a sad smile. “Lindsay, that is so wonderful. You truly are a very special girl.” Gina rooted around in the desk and pulled out an envelope and stamp. “Here you go. Thank you for all you’ve done for Mrs. Fisher. I’ve never seen her smile as much as she has this week.”

“I’m happy that I can help.” Lindsay put the letter in the envelope, sealed it, and then addressed it. “I’m going to check on Mrs. Warren. I’ll see you later.”

“Thank you again,” Gina said.

“You’re welcome.” Lindsay moved through a knot of wheelchairs and stepped toward Mrs. Warren’s door. When a hand touched her shoulder, she turned and found Andrea smiling at her.

“Hi,” Andrea said. “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine,” Lindsay said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you volunteered on Tuesdays.”

“My work schedule changed. I wanted to call you and tell you that I was coming today. You have to give me your number.” Andrea pulled out her cell phone, and Lindsay recited her number, which Andrea programmed into her phone. Andrea pointed toward a break room located across the hall. “Want to go sit for a bit?”

“Sure.” Lindsay followed Andrea into the room, where they
each purchased a bottle of water from the vending machine before sitting at a small table.

“What have you been doing today?” Andrea asked.