The Atonement (22 page)

This didn't happen till Dale joined me in praying, too,
she thought, admiring him for taking Kiana's concerns straight to the Lord last Saturday afternoon.

“If it's a go, then Kiana might need only a part-time job for incidentals,” Dale replied. “Especially if she qualifies for food stamps.”

“Right, and with the car we're gonna find her, she'll be in
gut
shape.”

Assuming Gracie and her husband accept Kiana as a renter.

Lucy glanced at Dale. “Does the Lord always answer your prayers so quick?”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “Not usually, no.”

She found this interesting, and she couldn't help wondering if he'd ever gone years without an answer.

Three years is a mighty long time. . . .

T
HE
HOURS
TILL
T
HURSDAY
EVENING
ticked by, and Lucy could find no reasonable excuse to stay home from the grief support group, especially when her father just assumed she was going again.

When the time came, Lettie asked why Lucy was tagging along, and Mamm said she was keeping their father company. The answer seemed to satisfy Faye, but Lettie still looked puzzled and studied Lucy hard.

Sooner or later, I might have to tell them something more,
Lucy thought.

Lucy and Dat said little to each other in the carriage on the way to the community church. Her father parked the buggy near a large tree at the far end of the lot.

Lucy decided it was a good idea to sit with Sue Kaiser and Janey Marshall, her discussion partners. After all, it made sense to get better acquainted with them, and she felt bad about being rather withdrawn during her first meeting. This week, she was
determined to be more receptive, if possible.
And going forward, too.
The latter thought nearly stopped her in her tracks.
Can I see this course through to the end?

As she and her father entered the church, Dale Wyeth was not in his usual place as the greeter. Instead, an older man from the group shook her father's hand and smiled at Lucy, welcoming her back.

Isn't Dale here?
she wondered, feeling a little disappointed.

———

Following the opening prayer, the leader began the lesson for the week, and Lucy braced herself—the loss of a child was painful territory to revisit. Right away, she could see that the theme was as difficult for Linden Hess as for some of the others present.

Linden talked about the stages of grief he and his wife had suffered following the death of their little girl. “At first we felt it was unfair that our daughter's life was cut short. Yes, we believed she was with the Lord, but we wished we'd had more time to make memories with her,” he shared, tears welling up. “We had to remind ourselves that God understood—
understands
—our loss, and we tried our best to communicate this truth to our other children as often as possible. But I can tell you it wasn't easy.” He paused to remove a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “And it's still hard, every single day.”

Linden went on to discuss how critical it was to have family support. “It's important to talk through your grief.”

Lucy's stomach churned. Fighting the urge to bolt, she refused to so much as glance at her father, seated beside Dale, who'd arrived late.

Coming tonight was a mistake.
Lucy folded her arms, hugging herself—the gathering room suddenly felt chilly. In all truth, she was even more uncomfortable than last week and beginning to feel mentally exhausted.
How will I manage?

But she did her best to listen later when Janey, seated next to
her, shared about the death of her four-month-old son to SIDS. Observing the woman's deep sadness, Lucy could no longer hold back her emotions, and tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Oh, Lucy . . . you have such a tender heart.” Sue slipped an arm around her.

The gesture made Lucy all the sadder. In the midst of this pit of suffering, she'd lost track of where she was, and when she could finally speak, she said quietly, “I'm ever so sorry . . . I don't want to cause a scene.”

“Sometimes it helps me to talk about what I'm feeling,” Sue said. “Maybe it's the same for you.”

Lucy shook her head. “I'm just not ready.” Besides, she didn't feel right about airing her dirty laundry to
Englischers
, no matter how well intentioned they seemed.

Sue and Janey offered to pray for her right there, but as Lucy reached for her purse and pulled out a tissue, she shook her head. “I
do
need your prayers . . . just not here. Not out loud.” She thanked them and excused herself, needing some cool air.

She headed toward the restroom and took a few sips at the drinking fountain, then stepped outside. There, she stood staring up at the starry sky. In the distance, near an old mill, grain dryers buzzed in the evening stillness.

What am I doing here?
Lucy wondered, realizing she had come so close to spilling the full truth about herself.

She tried to calm down, but all she could think of was the horror she'd felt when Janey spoke of the death of her little one.

Walking now, Lucy paced off the perimeter of the parking lot several times, remembering that her father liked to stay and fellowship following the benediction.
He must not have seen me leave,
she thought as she walked to the horse and buggy. She would wait there.

Deep in thought, she caressed Caney's long, sleek nose, whispering to him, forcing her thoughts onto other matters. She
couldn't deny how excited she was about the possibility of Gracie's rental house working out for Kiana. How very different her life could be. . . .
A whole new future.

Lucy heard footsteps and turned to look—it was Dale coming toward her, taller in the mix of light from the parking lot and the shadow where she stood. “Hullo,” she said.

“I saw you leave.” He reached to pet the horse. Their hands brushed lightly, and she pulled back. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I'm impatient to see how Kiana reacts to the news of the rental,” she said, diverting the conversation. Then, smiling, she said, “Really hope she comes to the food truck tomorrow.”

“Please remember that I want to help, Lucy.”

Thinking of their hands touching for that split second, she felt distracted.

Then Dale added, “Let me know when I can take Kiana and you to the car lot. Just call when you know for sure,” he said, reciting his cell number.

“So kind of you.
Denki
.”

They said good-bye, and shortly afterward, Lucy's father came out of the church.

She moved to the carriage, sliding onto the front bench seat, glad for Dale's willingness to assist with getting Kiana on her feet.
He enjoys helping others. That's all it is.

———

Lucy tensed as her father climbed in beside her and lifted the driving lines. She had felt this sort of stress around her father for years.
Jah, since returning home from Ohio.
Surely he was aware of it, too.

“You and Dale were alone in the parking lot,” he remarked as the carriage pulled out onto the road. “And the two of yous were out together last evening, too.”

“It's nothin', Dat,” she replied, hoping to settle this quickly.
“Yesterday was about helpin' Kiana.” She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing them tight.

“I'm responsible for the care of your soul, Lucy. And I can't help thinking 'bout your last experience with an outsider.”

Dat needn't remind her of that.

He caught her eye. “Why
is
it that you gravitate toward men outside the church?”

She swallowed hard. “Dat,
you
brought Dale into our lives.”

“'Tis true, but you're spendin' too much time together. I see this with my own two eyes.”

Lucy bit her lip, resolutely determined not to clam up.
That's what I always do,
she thought.
And nothing ever gets solved.

“If you hadn't sent me away, things would've turned out much differently.”

“
Ach
, Lucy,” her father muttered.

“And it was
your
idea to come to this grief group where people actually talk about their sorrow.”

“Daughter . . .”

“I want ya to hear me out, Dat.”

Her father hurried the horse. “We must trust such things to
Gott
's sovereign will . . . and daresn't question.”

Daresn't question?

He continued. “I'm following
Gott
on this.”

A cork popped inside of her. “But you're not God! Yet you destroyed my plans to marry my baby's father . . . and it's ruined everything since.”

“What I did was best for all concerned, including you,” Dat shot back, his shoulders rising as he drew a breath.

“
Nee,
it was so you could save face—not let it be known that your daughter had sinned with an
Englischer
.”

“Lucy, be thankful I spared ya from the
Bann.
”

“Maybe I'd be better off excommunicated.”

“
Puh!
You can't mean that.” He shook his head. “When will ya learn to think before ya speak or act?
When?
”

Seething, Lucy said what she'd held inside too long, what she truly believed. “It was
you
, Dat. You and God caused my baby to die.” She took another breath, then let it out slowly. “My baby deserved the chance to be born.”

Her father gripped the lines tighter, staring straight ahead.

Lucy was shaking, but she'd finally had her say. And yet she wasn't finished. “I've tried to get your approval, Dat—yours and God's. I've tried to find forgiveness somehow, find some kind of peace . . . but whatever I do is never enough.”

Turning toward the window, she wanted to get out and walk home. The vast fields were dark as she looked out her side of the buggy, past the spot in the road where a single moment had nearly altered Abe Riehl's family forever.

Quietly, she spoke again. “I'm not givin' up my friendship with Dale just 'cause you made a mistake.”

Then, lest she make any further hot-tempered remarks, Lucy clamped her lips shut. She heard her father sigh, but he said nothing more.

Back home, Lucy fell onto her bed, clinging to a pillow. She burrowed her face in its softness and relived the day she'd first told her parents of her pregnancy. Oddly, it was Dat who had taken the more gentle approach with her, at least at first, when Lucy began revealing her and Travis's elaborate wedding plans. Mamm, however, was full of questions, desperate to know more about the worldly young man Lucy had pledged to marry. Mamm's eyes had teared up. “But you'll be shunned!”

The mood in the house had fallen into one of concealed desperation. Lucy had felt so alone—and mortified—when her mother asked her to pack a few things a mere two days later.
“You're going
to Ohio to help my cousin Sally for the time being,”
Mamm had announced. At the time, Lucy was six weeks along in her pregnancy.
I had no say in what was to happen to my wee
babe.

Lucy rolled over on the bed, staring at the dresser on the opposite side of the room.
I wanted to please Travis,
she thought now, knowing full well she would have left the People for him. Anything to make him happy.
Anything but end my pregnancy, that is.
Oh, how I hoped he would warm up to the idea of being a father!