Promise to Cherish (20 page)

It’s all over church that you’re coming home. I can hardly believe it. I feel like you’ve been gone forever. I thought maybe you’d have written to me to tell me, but I suppose you wanted it all to be a big surprise. Mother often tells me that boys don’t write so much as girls. It’ll be nice to talk with you soon instead of writing, and see you at the Singings.

What day are you coming in? I was going to check with your mother to see if I could ride with them to the station to pick you up. Maybe I’ll make sure to have a few cherry pies waiting for you.

Oh, I meant to tell you in my last letter, but I think you’ll be happy to hear that your brother Mark and Syl’s burned house and land sold to some Englisher. I guess he’s going to tear it down and put up a corner store. Can you believe that? Your dad parceled out some of his land for them to buy and rebuild. Thought it would be easier since he’s so involved with the farm. It’s the lot of land with that big oak tree that we all used to climb when we were children and church was at your house. They will start building this spring. You’ll be here just in time.

Sincerely yours,

Matilda

Eli crumpled up the letter and threw it against the wall in his room. How could his father have done that? He had promised Eli the parcel of land with the oak tree. He was the oldest son and had planned on taking over the farm. Now Mark was stepping in and taking away his future. Maybe he should just stay away. Maybe he shouldn’t go home. He could go back to Iowa with DeWayne. He could be a Mennonite easily enough. He could farm or do carpentry. He paused. He could work with a doctor as an attendant. He was good at his job.

And Matilda. He had to deal with her, also. He had every intention of writing her to remind her that they were not a steady couple, but he’d put it off so long and now it hadn’t gotten written. He would have to talk to her as soon as he arrived home. Home without Christine. He would probably never see her again.

He slouched down on his bed and rested his elbows on his knees. Instinctively his head went into his hands. Now, when he finally had the motivation to return home and get his life back
in order and stop his immature ways, everything was caving in. He didn’t want to leave Christine. He knew returning home with her could be the worst decision he’d ever made. But did it matter since everything else was going wrong? His father had just sold his parcel of land to his brother. Learning this made him want to throw all of his respectable intentions away.

God, why? I thought things were going to be better when I got home. Just when I thought my life was getting on track . . .

CHAPTER 16

F
or the rest of the day Christine remained in her room, waiting for Byron and Jeanne to drive her out to her parents’ home with all of her belongings after their shift ended. She replayed the conversation with Eli. She had seen his compassion in the warmth in his eyes and in the way his head tilted as he smiled at her.

Her door pounded and she heard Jeanne’s familiar voice on the other side. She’d refused to open the door for anyone else. She opened the door just wide enough for her small friend to fit through.

As they were preparing to go Jeanne pointed at Eli’s coat.

“Whose coat is that?”

“Eli’s,” she said. “I saw him yesterday when I went for a walk. I told him.”

“You told one of the C.O.’s?”

“We’ve become friends.” Admitting this settled the fact in her heart. “I trust him.”

Jeanne nodded. “He’s the handsome Amish one, right?”

Christine couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Jeanne, that one.”

“But, really, why did you tell him? It doesn’t seem like something very proper to talk about.”

“Proper? I’m pregnant and unmarried, Jeanne. I don’t think I’ll ever be proper again.”

“So you’re keeping the baby? Even after Jack . . . Do you think he’ll change his mind?”

“I’m not sure it matters. I don’t know if I could after everything. He told me to have an abortion.”

Christine and Jeanne were silent for a moment.

“Eli asked me to go home with him. He said that his community would take care of me.”

Jeanne turned to face Christine. “What?”

“It was really before he knew I was pregnant. I think the invitation was retracted once he learned the rumors were true. I think he had more of a short break in mind, not hiding a pregnant woman.”

“So, what will you do?”

“My ma has some unwed mothers’ home she wants me to go to.” She thought of Mrs. Phancock’s story about when this happened to her and winced. “I’ll just stay at my parents’ house as long as possible. Then maybe find a boarding house.”

“No one is going to board or lease an apartment to you. You know how people feel about these situations. They’d never lease or give room and board to an unmarried woman expecting a baby. I wish I had a house. I’d let you live with me. I’d take care of you and your baby.”

Christine swallowed the lump in her throat while she forced a smile. Jeanne was right about the apartment. She also knew that if Jeanne could, she’d take her in for the rest of her life.

“Maybe you should take Eli up on his offer. Surely it wouldn’t be worse than a boarding house.” Jeanne chuckled cheerfully before fading away with a sigh.

Christine smiled. Jeanne’s reaction was correct. The thought was nearly laughable, only she was too burdened to laugh about it. She’d seen his eyes when she said she was pregnant. Disbelief.
Disappointment. He would never want her near his family in her condition.

The last of her things were taken down to the parking lot and Christine was alone.

She stood in her room and breathed a last sigh. Her hand went to her abdomen. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. She wasn’t ready to not be a nurse. She swallowed hard in order not to cry. It was time to go. She grabbed Eli’s coat from the bed and caught a glimpse of an envelope in the inside pocket. Instead of stuffing it further into the pocket, she pulled it out. Curiosity suddenly overtook her.

March 20, 1946

Dear Eli,

Praise be to the Lord. He is good to us.

We are having a beautiful spring. You are going to be returning to such a busy time. We are happy that your service is finished in only a few weeks. Life can return to normal when you come home. Dad sure is ready for your help again.

Just let us know when you’ll be arriving. We’ll pick you up in the open buggy unless it’s raining. Of course, in order for everyone to come your brothers will have to drive their buggies also. We’ll look like a buggy parade going through town. Won’t that be something? I might leave the girls home though. Sylvia or Aunt Annie can take care of them. Matilda wants to come, too. I told her it was fine. I can see she’s excited to have you back as well. She has really been faithful in writing you.

Christine stopped reading. She shouldn’t have read that much. She put the folded letter back in the envelope and stuffed it back into the coat. The coat appeared worn but it was well made. She’d never sewn anything in her life, but it was clear that the
coat was hand sewn. The dark denim was plain but very warm. Without thinking, she brought the quilted coat up to her nose and breathed it in. A light scent of aftershave lingered. Had Matilda done the same thing when Eli left—try to memorize Eli’s scent? It reminded her of the way her mother hadn’t moved or washed anything after her brothers left for war. Why hadn’t Eli ever mentioned to her that he had a girl waiting back home for him? Why did that bother her?

Once she left the Kirkbride building she took in the view of the misty morning. The sun was bright and shining and it seemed spring had arrived overnight. There were buds on the trees. A light chirping of birds chorused around her. This beauty conflicted with the storm inside. Her ward in Edgewood stood beyond in the distance. How were they getting on? She wouldn’t even be a passing memory in the minds of the patients whom she’d cared for.

Byron was leaning against his light-blue Chevrolet when she got down to the parking lot. He had his arm around Jeanne’s waist. The two looked so nice together and they looked as young as a high school couple. His sandy hair slicked back, he was wearing a waist coat unzipped halfway, and she had a ponytail and a wide skirt. Their happiness pleased her and brought a wave of sorrow.

Christine told them it would take but a moment to return Eli’s coat. She tried to step quickly as she walked through the courtyard and down the back section of the lawn to the C.O. boarding house.

“You need someone?” one of the young men asked, opening a nearby door.

“Eli Brenneman.”

A few minutes later he opened the door. His large build filled up the doorframe. His eyes landed on her quickly and he trotted out to her. His mouth angled in the grin she’d grown so
accustomed to. Her heart thudded in his presence; she was sad to say good-bye.

“Your coat.” She handed it to him.

Eli took it, his eyes not leaving hers. “Hi,” he said simply.

She nodded.

“So you’re leaving.” he said.

“So are you—soon,” she reminded him.

“Won’t you reconsider my offer?” His low voice was as soft as velvet.

His idea of her going with him to his Amish family just seemed impossible. She didn’t really know anything about their community, but by the sounds of it, her going home with him could cause him a variety of problems. She wasn’t Amish. She was pregnant. And what about the girl his mother mentioned in the letter, Matilda? Besides, her mother said she would figure everything out.

“Eli, I can’t. You know that’s a terrible idea.”

“Why? I know my mother will know what to do. We wouldn’t turn you out. You’d be safe with us.”

“You make it sound so easy, but this is my problem,” she said, her eyes leaving his. There was a sudden realization that her hands covered her abdomen; she dropped her arms. Her unconscious act of nurture toward the unborn child peeved her. Christine fiddled with her glasses. “Ma and I will figure things out. There are these homes where girls like me can go.”

“Homes?”

She nodded. “They help you with—everything—and make sure the baby goes to a respectable home. A Christian family. That’s all I know right now. My ma said she would figure something out.”

“You want to give your baby away?”

“Do you know any women with children and no husband—and I don’t mean widows?”

When he didn’t respond she decided to drop the subject.

“I better go. Jeanne and Byron are waiting for me.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder.

“This is for you.” Eli quickly handed her a folded piece of paper. She reluctantly took it but didn’t open it. “I just want you to consider my invitation.”

“And what about Matilda?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“Matilda?” he questioned. “How do you know anything about Matilda?”

She sighed heavily. “When I had your coat, I found a letter from your ma. I know I shouldn’t have read it, but I did. When I came to my senses I put it away, so I didn’t read all of it. Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

Eli chuckled. “Are you jealous?” His chest puffed.

She put her hands on her hips. “No. But I am curious.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. But I still think you’re jealous.” His chuckle smoothed into a wide smile and he winked at her.

“I’m not jealous.” Her eyes narrowed but couldn’t resist the smile that played over her lips.

Eli exhaled. “The truth is that Matilda’s just a friend who has been writing me while I was away. Nothing more.”

“The truth?”

He raised his hands as if in defense. “Promise.”

Her gaze lingered on him before she looked down at the piece of paper he gave her and read it to herself. It was his bus schedule.

“You have a few days to think about it,” he said.

She looked at him and wished she could explain how much it meant to her that he cared. But the right words didn’t come to her.

“Your hair’s longer than usual,” she pointed out.

His eyes looked up toward his hair. “I skipped my last haircut.” He shrugged and met her eyes. “It’s better for going home.”

She nodded. Of course, he was Amish, she reminded herself.

“I hope you make it home safely, Eli. You’ve been an enjoy
able attendant to work with—able and caring.” She paused. “And certainly a good friend. I really mean that.”

Eli took a step closer to her and put the palm of his hand on her shoulder. His thumb rubbed against the fabric of her dress, comforting her. His eyes were fast on hers—the usual clear blue appeared stormy, like the wind turning over the water of a placid lake. In that moment she could see that he cared deeply for her—too deeply. The thought frightened her and even though the warmth of his touch filled her soul, she stepped back, losing his touch.

He lowered his hand and cleared his throat.

“Just go home and move on with your life. Forget about me.”

With that she handed the bus information back to him.