For Sure & Certain (28 page)

“Really?” Abel stood shell-shocked.

“Really, congratulations, Abel. We’re honored to have you here.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Abel thanked him again, tugging at the brim of his straw hat in his hands.

It was happening.

He was staying. No more sheep. No more suspenders. He could buy a cellphone and call up Marigold and ask her on proper date. Their worlds would no longer exist on a separate axis. They would finally collide.

***

Hiding the news was impossible. His face told them everything they needed to know as he walked back into his dorm room.

“For reals?” Jenna screeched, throwing her arms around Abel.

“For reals,” he answered, laughing as she squeezed his waist. “And I’m staying here, in this room.”

“That’s insane. INSANE!” Lacey said, cranking up the volume on his jam box. Lily started doing terrible robot dance moves and everyone started hollering. A few kids from down the hall came to find out what the noise was about, and Lacey proudly told them Abel would be starting school here. “Class of 2020 bitches!” he shouted over the music.

The excitement drowned out the one nagging thought— the fact that he still needed to tell his parent.

But not today. Not tonight.

Tonight he would go find her. Marigold. And tell her the truth that scared him before. The truth he hoped she still wore on her sleeve.

chapter sixteen

Marigold

The drive felt longer than she remembered. Her mind flooded with the memories of the last time she’d travelled this road. Abel had whispered sweet words in her ear as they shared her thermos of coffee and homemade peanut butter cookies. Able held her hand, and she offered him her heart. She wanted him to take it, even now; after he’d left the way he had a month ago, not coming back for her.

She still hoped that he would show up at his parents’ house and say he was wrong. That he would say this thing between them, the thing she had named love, was love to him too.  Shaking her head, annoyed at herself for letting her mind take this detour, she unrolled the window of the taxi, letting the muggy late-August heat settle around her. She couldn’t keep doing this, romanticizing about a person who hadn’t believed her intentions were true and good. Real.

As the taxi pulled up to her parents’ house, she was seized with anxiety, scared that she would actually not return to the Millers’ next week. No. It wasn’t possible. Of course she’d return.

“Hello?” she called out, dropping her suitcase on the floor of the foyer.

“Goldie?” her mom answered, coming towards her with arms spread wide to pull her into a hug. “Oh thank God, you’re back in one piece. I had all these terrible fears about what was happening to you, that you’d come home brainwashed, wearing a bonnet!” She stopped in front of her daughter, pressing her hands against her back, wrapping her in a hug. “But you’re home.” Her mom released a deep sigh.

“I’m here,” Marigold said, pulling her arms around her mother too, breathing in the shampoo she’d always used, the seventy-five dollar bottles from the salon where they used to go every six weeks for a hair cut. Of course her mom still went without her; she’d been gone eight weeks.

It was hard to believe, it felt like so much longer, like she’d lived with the Millers forever, wondering if her family even realized she’d been gone. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course we did, what were we supposed to do without our resident showstopper in the house?” Her mom said it like it was a joke, when it actually only reinforced the stereotype her parents insisted on perpetuating. That she was the girl from before. Couldn’t her mom see how much she’d changed?

Sure her clothes were the same as they were two months ago, but inside she was a brand new butterfly, wings as colorful as always, but a different mariposa altogether, different even than the one she’d become last school year. This one was lighter, able to fly much higher. Wings that spanned the breadth of the life she wanted. The life she already had in Lancaster.

“Tabby called, she’s back from South America and I think there’s a party at her parents’ tomorrow, sounds like all the old gang will be there.”

“Why would you encourage me to hang out with people who nearly got me arrested?”

Her mom smiled forcefully. “I know that crew and you had a fallout, but their parents are our family friends, can you imagine how awkward this is for me? Everyone else has put your high school shenanigans behind them, and so should you.”

“I have put it behind me, and I don’t need to go back to the people I’ve let go of to be whole. I can be happy and not be the same. Why won’t you hear that?”

“Oh, I hear you. I just don’t like what I hear.” Taking a deep breath, her Mom smoothed her skirt as if to steady herself. “Since that is settled, I wanted to let you know that your sister is out right now, but will be back for dinner. She has some friends from school staying the night. They fly out Sunday morning.” As her mom explained, two strangers came down the stairs.

Marigold recognized them from Abel’s descriptions of the study group he and Lily were in.

Abel.

Her head got fuzzy thinking of the guy who’d walked away. The boy she searched for now, hoping that he’d walk down the steps next. To see her. Choose her, still.

“Hey, Marigold, I’m Jenna,” said a girl with braided blond hair. “And this is Lacey.”

Lacey was Abel’s roommate, she remembered this. “Hi,” she answered, remembering to swallow, to breathe. Her eyes flicked around the room. He wasn’t here.

“We were in the Intensive together with Lily. Study Buddies, you know cool stuff like that. So … what’s up with you?” Lacey was acting so chill, Marigold decided he must he high right then and there.

“Oh, just a long day. Traveling and all. It’s nice to meet you, Jenna, Lacey,” she said, shaking their hands. They looked at her, but it was more like an inspection. Squinted eyes, narrowed brows. They were checking her out. Her face flushed realizing they’d all probably talked about her and Abel.

Where was he? Not wanting to ask, and actually a little overwhelmed with the idea of seeing him here, she excused herself claiming she needed to unpack and change for dinner.

“Call Tabby, Marigold,” her mom called as she made a beeline for her room. Of course she wouldn’t call, she’d closed that chapter months ago. Her mind was on Abel anyways. She’d avoid him until they got back home to his parents.

Once settled they could begin again. Or not. If he still didn’t want her, she would lease a room in a nearby home and keep on the path as planned. He wasn’t the reason for anything, just the part that made it all seem too good to be true.

Abel

“Oh, my God, it looks perfect, Abel,” Lily said, her jaw dropping.

Abel blushed and gave her a small smile. He thought he needed to forgo his traditional Amish hair cut once and for all, so they were at the salon Lily recommended. His hair had been cropped at the sides, and the top was left about three inches long, puffed up with pomade. The hairstylist had claimed him a mainstream hipster, and made him promise that if he was going to trade his Amish duds for Levi’s and T-shirts, he had to keep the suspenders.

“Do you think Marigold will like it?”

“Um, she will love it.” Lily squeezed his shoulders and they walked out to the street. “I am so impressed that you got a full ride, Abel, it’s pretty amazing.”

“Thanks, Lily, for everything this summer. I have no idea how things will be from here on out, with my family and everything, and Lacey and Jenna leaving. I’m really glad you’re still here in the city.”

“What
did
your parents say?” she asked.

Abel hesitated. He knew he should have called them and come clean already. Not taking vows with his church was enormous … Abel knew this. And truly, it scared him to say the words to his parents. As much as he didn’t want to follow their footsteps, he loved them deeply and respected them in so many ways.

“I haven’t spoke with them yet.”

“But they knew you had applied?”

“Well. No. I mean, they knew when classes ended this summer, and assumed I’d return shortly after.”

“You need to speak with them, Abel. I don’t know your parents, but from what you’ve said, they’re already hurt that you’re here.”

“I don’t mean to hurt anyone.” But his parents would be hurt. Devastated.

“I know. I get that. In a small way at least. My whole life I’ve been my parents’ golden child, but this summer they saw that this whole business thing wasn’t my passion, my dream. I was doing it for them.”

“And let me guess, they didn’t disown you when you came clean, instead they accept you for who you are.”

“Well, yeah. And I know it’s different, Abel. I know.”

“It is different. Me leaving the Amish church means leaving them.”

“And you’re ready to walk away from them, your faith?” Lily asked. 

Abel swallowed, disappointed that the mood had shifted. He wanted to celebrate, but clearly the heaviness of his choice mattered in ways they couldn’t ignore.

“I’m a grown man. If I’m expected to make a vow confirming me to this life, aren’t I old enough to make a choice for something else?”

“Grown or not, leaving the Amish is going to change the fabric of who you are, Abel.” Lily gave a serious pause to the conversation. “Lacey and Jenna would never say this to you, mostly because they’re in a freaking love-bubble, but as your friend, I guess I’ve got to say my piece.”

“Just say it then.”

Lily had transformed over the summer into a sincere friend. She’d changed, like he had. Like it seemed everyone had. Life had few absolutes. The
for sure and certain
philosophy he grew up with meant little in light of the last few months. Nothing was certain, everything grew and wilted and grew again. And maybe that was okay. Maybe that was the point. 

“All I know about you and your community is what the Internet’s told me. So obviously I’m no expert, but choosing Jamestown will change everything. Christmas and birthdays and church and your wedding, if you have children … their relationship with their grandparents. This one choice will shape you completely.”

“I know. Lily.” Abel shook his head, frustrated that she would think he hadn’t thought it through. Of course he had. It wasn’t just about college and having fun on campus, it was about wanting a career, and a life here in the city without the restrictions of a community who viewed every facet of life with a different lens. “But I haven’t taken my kneeling vows. I won’t be shunned, I’ll still be allowed to visit my family.”

“But it will all be different. I just hope you don’t have regrets about who you might leave behind.”

“I won’t,” said Abel soberly, knowing his parents wouldn’t see it that way. “This choice is only about me. What I want for my life.”

“When you call them, you can’t lead with that, Abel,” Lily said laughing under her breath. “Choosing your future based only on what you want, on what you believe you need to be happy, is their greatest fear. Fair or not, your parents have made all their choices thinking of others.”

“And I’m a selfish son,” said Abel said. “That’s what you think?”

“No,” said Lily. “I think you’re going to hurt the people you love the most.”

They stood in silence at the entrance to his dorm. Abel was stepping back into the life he’d chosen.

“But?” he asked.

“Sometimes love means letting go.” Lily gave Abel a hug, surprising him.

“You’re talking about Marigold?”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about, I only know that in the end, you have a friend in me.”

Marigold

Once dinner was ready, the Archers gathered. Cedar had even made his way across town for the family meal. Marigold was surprised to see everyone like this, together. For her.

Lily’s friends weren’t joining them, claiming they had other plans, and Marigold appreciated that. She had big news she didn’t want to necessarily shout from the rooftops. That was no longer her style.

“So,” her dad began, unfolding the cloth napkin on his lap.  “Your summer was productive? We didn’t hear much besides what Lily told us by way of Abel.”

“You could have written,” she answered quickly, instantly regretting the choice. She could have written too, but she hadn’t, not once.

“But without email? I mean, Marigold, what do you expect us to do with a pen and paper?” Lily joked, raising her eyebrows at her sister before passing the platter of chicken piccata. Marigold noted that someone had remembered her favorite meal.

“I don’t think they even make postage stamps anymore,” said Cedar with a straight face. “I mean, are there even post offices in the city? I thought FedEx did everything now.”

Eileen pressed her lips together in a small smile. “Shush, don’t give her such a hard time. Maybe the space was good for all of us, a fresh start.” Her mother looked around the table, and everyone gave polite nods before digging into their food.