Rum Spring (25 page)

“Is there something in the English world you cannot get from your own people?”

“There is…someone.”

“Are you in love with an English?”

“Yes.” Rebecca didn’t have to see Sarah to sense her disapproval. “Half my heart is in the English world and the other half is in ours. If I leave, I’ll lose Mama, Papa, Uncle Amos, and Moses. If I stay, I’ll lose Isaiah and…the one I love.”

Rebecca couldn’t tell Sarah that the person she loved was Dylan. Sarah hadn’t recovered from the shock that Rebecca was involved with an English. Telling her the person was Dylan would have been too much too soon.

“Whichever world you choose, you’ll always have me. Do what makes your heart feel whole, Rebecca. No matter what the cost.”

“Thank you, Sarah. I will.”

Rebecca hung up the phone and returned to the counter. When she absently wiped her face, her fingers came away wet. How long had she been crying?

“I hope those are happy tears,” Mrs. Dunham said.

“They are.”

“So you had a good talk with your sister?”

Rebecca nodded. “Now I have to talk with my parents. I have to tell them how I feel about Dylan. I have to tell them about me. Uncle Amos is too fond of me to ask me to leave his home, but I would rather leave than force him to avoid talking to me or eating with me. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to live on my own right now.”

“Your boss should give you a raise,” Mrs. Dunham joked.

“A big one.”

“I would love to help, but with two kids, a husband, a cat, two ferrets, and three dogs, all the cages in my zoo are full. I’m sure the Mahoneys would take you in if you needed them to.”

Rebecca waved through the window at her father, who had come to pick her up. “I cannot accept charity. It is against our beliefs.”

“I doubt Grace and Thomas will see giving you a place to stay as charity. They made a similar offer to Sarah, didn’t they? Their daughter loves you. They do, too. Now get back in there, call Dylan, and give her the good news.”

Rebecca remembered how nervous she had been talking to Sarah on the phone. Her mind had been muddled and she had barely gotten some of the words out. She didn’t want to be that way with Dylan. She wanted to sound as confident as she felt.

“Let me gather my thoughts first. Maybe practicing what I want to say will help me remember it when the time comes.”

Never had she had looked forward to something so much.

Dylan adjusted the angle of her computer monitor to lessen the glare of the sun that beamed down on her grandparents’ patio. She looked over what she had written and pronounced herself satisfied. Temporarily. Her opinion could change after she saw her grade. The Albany classes were even harder than she had thought they would be. She had received a B+ on her last paper, an okay result but not the A she had come to expect. Her instructor’s critique had been succinct: Great story. Technically, very well written. But an article is not supposed to be an opinion piece. Next time, show me, don’t tell me. Dylan thought she had done a much better job maintaining her objectivity this time.

Grandpa Malcolm looked up from the sudoku puzzle he was struggling with. “Is it a Pulitzer Prize winner?”

“We’ll see.” Dylan ran a spellcheck and clicked the Save icon.

“Soup’s on.” Grandma Siobhan pushed the back door open with her hip. In her arms, she carried a huge tray laden with big bowls of homemade beef stew.

Grandpa Malcolm tossed a wink in Dylan’s direction. “What’s this? Dinner’s ready and the fire department hasn’t shown up yet?”

“Keep that up and I’ll feed your portion to the neighbors’ dachshund.”

“Don’t do that. I always liked that dog.” Grandpa Malcolm took the tray out of Grandma Siobhan’s hands—after giving her a flirtatious pinch on her rear end.

Dylan watched the exchange with a smile. Her grandparents had been married for nearly sixty years but they still acted like newlyweds. Her parents were the same way. Her dad said it was genetic. Perhaps, one day, she’d be lucky enough to find out if he was right.

Grandpa Malcolm set the tray on the patio table.

“Almost forgot the salads,” Grandma Siobhan said. “Back in a jiffy.”

“I’ll get them, Grandma. I have to charge my computer, anyway.”

Dylan tucked her laptop under her arm and headed to the house. She plugged her laptop into the outlet in the kitchen and grabbed the salads off the counter. She whistled happily as she returned to the patio.

“Someone is in a good mood,” Grandpa Malcolm said.

Dylan affected a thick Irish brogue. “Because someone is going to Ireland next month.”

Her academic advisor had come through, helping to secure her a spot in the study abroad program. Dylan would leave for Ireland in three weeks to take up residence at the Gort na Coiribe student village in Galway, the cultural capital of the Emerald Isle. She would spend the next year learning about Ireland’s rich heritage—and learning to live without Rebecca.

Rebecca’s father organized a trip to the bowling alley one Saturday afternoon in late July. Rebecca volunteered to help Esther look after the younger members of the congregation. The group gathered at Peterli’s farm and boarded a rented van. During the ride to Lancaster, while the rest of the group sang songs of praise, Rebecca rehearsed what she would say to Dylan when she told her that all the obstacles that prevented them from being together had been overcome.

I’m sorry if I hurt you.

No, that wouldn’t work. If I hurt you? There’s no question I hurt her. More than once. I hurt her and I’m the only one who can heal her. Maybe she can heal me, too.

Dylan, my life is incomplete without you.

That was better.

My life—No, my world is incomplete without you. I would like for us to make a home in your world. My heart is yours. Is your heart still mine?

Perfect. The rest would depend on Dylan’s answer to her question. Would her answer be yes or no?

Rebecca lifted her eyes to the heavens. Please, God, let it be yes.

“No,” Dylan said firmly.

“What do you mean no? You’re seriously not going to try to hook up with anyone while you’re away?” Willie sounded incredulous.

“The thought never crossed my mind. I’m going to Ireland to learn, not add more entries to my little black book.”

“Why don’t you write Erin’s name down instead? Dani and I ran into her the other day. That girl is seriously hot.”

“Does Dani know you’re lusting after my roommate?”

“It was Dani’s idea.”

“For you to lust after my roommate?”

“No, for you and Erin to hook up.”

“We tried it once. It didn’t work. There wasn’t any chemistry. We’re buds. I’m not going to ruin a good friendship because you think I need a girlfriend.”

“Well, don’t you think you need a girlfriend?”

Dylan sighed. I need Rebecca.

Do what makes your heart feel whole, Sarah had said.

As she looked at the faces of her family and friends, Rebecca felt her heart fill with love. There was Papa giving Uncle Amos advice on the proper way to hold a bowling ball. There were Tobias and Naomi holding hands in a quiet corner. There were Joshua and Marian laughing at Moses, who was trying to crawl down one of the lanes. And there was Esther re-enacting the story of Jonah and the whale for a rapt audience of children from the school where she worked.

Rebecca smiled, remembering the water globe Dylan had bought in Provincetown. The one with the tiny whale inside. Esther’s choice of stories was a sign. So was the name of Sarah’s school. Everything in Rebecca’s life seemed to be leading in the same direction—to Dylan.

“That is the smile of a woman who is at peace with her decision.”

Rebecca, wrapped up in her thoughts, had not seen her mother approach. She sat next to Rebecca and took one of her hands in hers. “When will you be leaving us?”

Rebecca had not shared her decision with anyone. How did her mother know what she was planning to do? “Leaving?”

“To take your place in the world. To take your place with…Dylan.”

Her mother’s hesitation to link her name with Dylan’s let Rebecca know how foreign the idea was to her. Rebecca tried to pull away—to retreat into a protective shell that would protect her from the slings and arrows that were surely about to be sent her way, but her mother squeezed her hand tighter, holding her in place. “How did you know?”

“A mother knows her child. And your uncle Amos is not the only one who has eyes.”

“He told you?”

“He didn’t have to.” She patted Rebecca’s knee. “I don’t want you to have to struggle with the consequences of your decision the way Amos has these many years. I don’t want you to suffer the way Sarah has and continues to do. Do what you feel is right, Rebecca. Papa and I will learn to live with your decision, whether we agree with it or not.”

Rebecca struggled to breathe. She felt as if a vise were clamped around her chest. The conversation she had tried to avoid was finally taking place. “Papa knows?”

Rebecca followed her mother’s gaze. Uncle Amos had just bowled a strike and her father was patting him on the back. He glanced in their direction. His smile faded ever so slightly. Her mother nodded at him and he dipped his head as if providing confirmation to the unspoken question she had asked.

She turned back to Rebecca. “He knows. He is not allowed to say he approves. Neither am I. But know this: you are loved, Rebecca. Your happiness is ours.”

“I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t live without her. I have tried.” Rebecca wrapped her arms around her mother’s narrow shoulders and rested her face against the side of her neck. Tears flowed freely down both their faces. “I will miss you.”

Her mother’s grip on Rebecca’s arms was surprisingly strong.

“And I will miss you. I will dream often of your sweet smile and loving ways. But you are free to live your own life. You are free to make your own choices. Go with God and live in love.”

Dylan was right. Their parents were more alike than Rebecca had thought.

Rebecca sat behind the desk and took a slow, deep breath to settle her nerves. She could sense the enormity of the moment. What she had to say was too important to say over the phone, but she didn’t want Dylan to go on thinking they had no future. Their future was now. Her life depended on the outcome of the letter she was about to write. How would Dylan react when she told her that the impossible had become possible? Would she be as happy as Rebecca was or was it too late? Would she accept the love that Rebecca was now free to give or had she hardened her heart? There was only one way to find out.

So she did what Dylan did every day: she put her feelings into words.

“Dylan! Phone for you!” Grandma Siobhan called up the stairs.

“Thanks, Grandma! I’ll be right down!”

Dylan zipped her suitcase and looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten to pack anything. She was cutting it close. When she got back to Philadelphia, she would have only a couple of days to complete all the errands she had put off during the summer. Good thing Michael and her parents had spent the last two weeks in Albany with her, because she wouldn’t see much of them before her flight took off on Monday afternoon.

She turned off the lights and closed the bedroom door. When she got downstairs, her dad carried her suitcase out to her car. She and her family weren’t fond of airport good-byes, so they had said their tearful farewells in Albany the night before. Dylan was about to drive back to Philadelphia to pack up her apartment. Her parents planned to remain in Albany for a few more days.

Dylan picked up the cordless phone in the foyer and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Your mail’s piling up, Lancaster,” Erin said. “What do you want me to do with it?”

Dylan could hear Erin shuffling envelopes. The action reminded her of the letter she had placed, fittingly, in the pocket over her heart. She pulled the envelope out of her pocket and set it on top of the neat stack of outgoing mail Grandma Siobhan had placed on the console table near the front door.

“Does any of it look important?”

“Nah, just the same old same old.”

“Then keep it there and I’ll pick it up when I get home. It will give me something to read on the plane in case I need help falling asleep.”

“You sound rushed.”

“Last-minute details are kicking my ass.”

“Do you have time for a farewell dinner with your favorite roommate ever?”

“Barely.”

“Then hurry back. There are a bunch of people who are waiting to say good-bye to you before I drive you to the airport. I hope you haven’t packed your dancing shoes yet because you’re going to need them.”

Dylan shook her head. Erin was probably going to have half the people in their apartment building lined up waiting to yell, “Surprise!”

“It’s going to be a long night.”

Rebecca pulled the envelope out of the box and looked quizzically at the postmark. The round stamp read Albany, New York. She didn’t know anyone in Albany. Wait. Didn’t Dylan’s maternal grandparents live in Albany? Grandpa Malcolm and Grandma Siobhan? Was that where she had been all summer? In Albany, not Lancaster or Philadelphia or any of the other places Rebecca had imagined her in?

Rebecca looked at the handwriting on the envelope. The script was as familiar to her as her own. It was Dylan’s handwriting.

Rebecca tore into the envelope and pulled out the one-page letter that was folded inside.

Rebecca,

I leave for Ireland on Monday. I have said good-bye to everyone I know. Everyone except you. I couldn’t leave without telling you one more time how very much I love you. When I return from my trip, I will be a year older, a year wiser, and, most likely, still in love with you. I hope that admission doesn’t make you feel sad or cause you pain. It is my cross to bear. I will carry its weight with honor and I will carry you in my heart for the rest of my life.

The decision you have made is the right one for you. Time will tell if the one I have made is the right one for me. I wish you were embarking on this journey with me, but you are about to begin one of your own. Enjoy the adventure.

I am a better person for having known you. Thank you for allowing me into your life—even if for only a short time. I wish you nothing but the best.