The Brethren (3 page)
Authors: Beverly Lewis
29 I
Lewis
He wasn’t about to delve into Scripture the way his cousin Irvin Ranck delighted in doing. Even boasts about it And Irvin’s wife, Julia, had gone and spread her opinions to Esther, causing confusion amongst the People, he knew. To think his own Annie was living with a shunned woman. Unthinkable! And what of my embarrassment over Annie’s art boldly printed on a magazine?
There were shuffling sounds, and he turned to see his daughter standing not but a few feet from him. “Annie,” he said.
Face solemn, she stared at the long rope in his hands, the wooden seat hanging limply near the floor. “Where’d that come from?”
He looked at her, this young woman who continued to defy him.
“It’s our swing mine and Isaac’s isn’t it?” she asked. He nodded. “I’ve kept it, safe … all these years.” He wouldn’t admit to wanting to give it to Zeke years ago. He was too struck by the pout of her lip, the distrust on her face. She moved near and touched the swing with tears in her eyes. She whispered hoarsely, “Why, Daed?”
Stunned by his daughter’s reaction, he handed the whole thing over to her. “Here, keep it. It’s yours now.” With that, he left her standing there, clutching the rope to her chest with trembling hands.
30
A.s she watched her students at their easels, Louisa Stratford understood again why she had not been able to deny her love for teaching for very long. Four students, including Cybil Peters, a girl with exceptional talent, worked to the strains of Secret Garden’s White Stones, one of Louisa’s favorite CDs for creating an atmosphere of repose. To her musical taste, there was something inspirational about the ethereal blend of violin, oboe, and guitar.
Louisa demonstrated light values, linear perspective, and vanishing points at her own canvas, where she was creating a pastoral scene complete with mules grazing in the fore’ ground and a windmill in the distance.
“Remember,” she said, “in one-point perspective, the height as well as the width of the object is parallel to the painting’s level surface.”
She moved to Cybil’s painting of two white swans, pointing out the imaginary extension lines and vanishing points.
Roman, the only male student, asked for assistance with his painting of a tall southwestern-style vase with sunlight pouring down on it from an open window.
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“How’s the shading?” he asked.
She kept her voice low, so as not to disrupt the concentration of the others, but someone opened the studio door and walked in before she could respond. She wasn’t sure at what point she became consciously aware of him, but when she turned to look, she was surprised to see Michael Berkeley, her former fiance, standing there.
He looked more handsome than she remembered, maybe because an easy smile lit his face in place of the disdain he’d worn during their dismal farewell. He was also more casually dressed, in khakis and a blue oxford shirt. This was new, as Michael was typically “money walking,” in fine tailored suits over crisp white shirts and designer ties. She couldn’t quite resist the urge to glance at the clock. Wasn’t this considered business hours? Had he taken the day off? Or had he really given up the partnership at her father’s prestigious law firm, as Courtney had suggested?
Louisa braced herself for his direct approach, remembering all Courtney had said about how Michael wanted her back, wanted a second chance, wanted … her. But although his smile was warm and friendly, he didn’t walk over. Instead, he paused at Cybil’s easel, greeting her and nodding his head appreciatively as she explained the piece she was working on. He laughed at something the young woman said, and Louisa remembered that Michael had met quite a few of her students during the years they had dated.
Trying to concentrate on Roman’s question, Louisa offered a suggestion but knew she was only half focused on her work. What was Michael doing here? After a few more minutes, he wrapped up his conversation with Cybil and
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casually made his way over to where Louisa stood.
“Hi, Louisa.”
“Michael.”
His eyes met hers, and then he looked away. “I’ll bet it feels good to get back here.”
She shrugged, her defenses rising.
But before she could reply he continued, “In this studio, I mean. You always were a fantastic instructor.”
She smiled briefly at the compliment but felt instantly skeptical of his sincerity and motives.
“Your students missed you,” he said.
“And I missed them.”
“Though I’m sure you’re fond of your friends in Pennsylvania, too.”
She shrugged. She wouldn’t admit to missing Pennsylvania. She wasn’t interested in opening the door to friendship at least not to the kind of intimacy they had once shared.
Michael said, “Courtney mentioned you created quite a new life for yourself there.”
“Did she?”
“I was surprised to hear you’d come back.”
It was on the tip of Louisa’s tongue to say flippantly, Really? Even though you sent her to haul me home? But she resisted. He was being very polite, and she had her students to think of.
“I missed my parents.” She swallowed hard. What exactly had Courtney told him? Would he ask her about Sam?
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§§H
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But he only said, “It’s really great to see you again, Louisa.”
She couldn’t say the same. In all truth, she wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing Michael again. So instead she asked, “How do you like the way I set up my studio.7” He looked around. “You rearranged everything.” “Yes. Someone once told me I forget who that if you don’t get to travel as much as you’d like to, move the furniture around a lot.” She laughed softly, and Michael joined in. His laughter put her at ease, and she suddenly felt as if they were long-time friends, picking up where they’d left off months before.
Michael straightened. “Well, I’m on my lunch break. I’d better head back.”
“It’s only ten o’clock “
He shrugged easily. “My only free hour. I’ll be tied up with client meetings the rest of the day. You remember how much I love meetings.”
She laughed again. She wanted to ask about the firm, but she hesitated. Had Courtney already confessed to him that she’d let the cat out of the bag about his job change? She didn’t want to reveal that Courtney had betrayed his confidence, so she simply nodded. She was curious, though. She was surprised, in fact, given this opportunity, that he didn’t tell her about leaving the firm himself. Surprised, too, that he made no reference to their past, nor to the possibility of seeing her again.
Instead he looked around the room once more. “Well. I just thought I’d stop by … and welcome you home.” He met her eyes again. “Take care, Louisa.”
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She nodded. “Bye.”
With one last grin, he turned and left the room, with only a brief wave in response to Cybil’s farewell.
Louisa was stumped at Michael’s appearance and his even faster exit. Had Courtney exaggerated his determination to resume their relationship? If not, then why hadn’t he asked her out? She strolled over to help the next student, feeling relieved that Michael hadn’t pursued her, yet there was another emotion present, as well. Was it some misguided sense of wounded vanity … or was she truly disappointed?
Esther’s body trembled and she felt her legs might not hold her as she crept away from the window to the chair. Sighing, willing back tears, she slowed her breathing. I can do this. … I must be all that my children need … with your help, Lord Jesus.
Esther refused to look out the window yet again, to stare at the spot where the police car had come rushing into the drive a week before. They had asked for Zeke and she had quickly led them to the barn. There, she and the police had slid open the big door and found Zeke pacing, the same way she’d seen him do in their bedroom. Before she’d scurried back to the house to look after the children and to escape the nightmarish scene she’d heard him mutter something about knowing where Isaac’s bones were buried.
Will my life ever be right again? She knew she must pull herself together before Essie Ann awakened, which would be soon. Laura would be home from school any minute, too.
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“What’s he done, dear Lord in heaven? What has my Zeke gone and done?”
Leaning her head back, she thought of all the years, the tears, the ongoing conflict in this house. She breathed in the present peace of the room, attempting to count her blessings. Oh, I must think on the good things. The great goodness of my Lord and Savior. Place your hand of compassion and mercy on my family, she prayed. Especially on Zeke.
She thought of Annie, who had readily taken on the role of guardian more like a she-wolf than a young woman, railing under her breath that morning about Zeke’s abusive streak. “Maybe he’ll try slapping around one person too many down at the jail,” Annie had said, as if she wished it so.
Esther wrapped her arms around her middle as uncontrollable tears sprang to her eyes. Was this how it felt to mingle the light with the darkness? She wondered about that particular Scripture. Zeke had repeatedly taunted her, demanding that she abandon her “ridiculous” beliefs and come back to the Amish church. “You’ll be happier back here. Return to my side.”
But how could she ever go back? Tears clouded her vision; maybe they were tears of relief. She didn’t rightly know, because she felt awful sad, too. And each day that , passed, she felt trapped in one horrid pressure cooker, as if she might blow up if she didn’t cry. So she let the dam break, sobbing into her hands.
As Louisa’s first class of students was leaving, her mother stopped by the studio unannounced, as she often did lately.
36 Louisa was eager to show what she was working on and the many photos of Amish farms she had taken over the months in Paradise. What she didn’t tell her mom was that she’d just missed Michael the son-in-law of her dreams by about fifteen minutes, a thought that made Louisa bite back a smile.
“Here are some of Annie’s peacocks.” She pointed out one in the photo with a prominent fanned-out tail. “I did a painting of this one. I need to contact the gallery owner in case more of my work has sold.”
Mother nodded. “I’d like to hear more about your Amish friend Annie.”
She smiled, remembering her friend’s contagious laughter, the way Annie’s eyes lit up, especially when whispering about Ben Martin, whom she was no longer dating, according to Annie’s last letter. What a shocker that was.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” She thought of asking why her mom hadn’t shown much interest before this, but she had no intention of spoiling this pleasant moment. “When Annie and I first began exchanging letters, she would draw little flowers and animals on each letter to me. It’s funny, because she insists now that I was the first to notice her talent.”
Mother listened as Louisa recalled that Annie had never drawn stick figures like some kids did. Her sketches, usually in the margins of the letters she wrote, most often depicted the birds, newborn animals, or flowers of spring, Annie’s favorite season.
Springtime in Paradise… . Louisa shrugged off the memory, willing it away. This was home now. Here, where her
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true roots were deep, where she had chafed under the ongoing prospect of becoming materialistic, like her parents. She had run from here for dear life and now, surprisingly, was back and making a bumbling attempt to reconnect.
How can I possibly fit in here? I know too much about life. And about love… .
Sighing, she heard her mother making superficial comments about Pennsylvania Amish traditions, admitting she had ”conducted some research” while Louisa was there. Mother sat stiffly on one of the stools, appearing out of place. “You rarely showed me any of Annie’s letters when you were growing up. I know I should have asked about her long before this. I was always curious, though. I never knew why you felt so close to her.”
This surprised Louisa, but how could she explain that hers and Annie’s correspondence had been a special world of their own making? “Annie was someone who understood me right off the bat. Funny, isn’t it? A Plain girl with no sense of social decorum … who seemed to just get me. Even from our earliest pen pal days.”
“But you left her world behind,” her mother stated. “You came back to your real home.”
Louisa cringed. She hated hearing that, but she looked into her mother’s face and saw the absence of barbed insinuation. No, Mother wasn’t being the prickly pear she could certainly be. Not today, not here in Louisa’s small, cheerful studio.
“I came back for lots of reasons,” she said. “If anything, I think I found my way my good senses, you might say. I
37 found everything I’ve ever longed for in Amish country. Especially peace.”
“Since I have no idea what that means, I’ll just say how nice it is that you found yourself with your Amish friend, though that is hard for me to understand. All your education, your wonderful upbringing … doesn’t that amount to anything?”
My upbringing wasn’t so great.
“Your father and I “
“Please, let’s not bring Dad into this.” She felt beyond weary at the thought of her father’s financial aspirations for her future. What’s done is done, as Annies Mamm says. She excused herself and rose quickly.
“Louisa, what is it?”
She fully understood where her mother was coming from, so she tried again. “Have you ever had your senses thoroughly awakened? Have you ever experienced the incredible feeling of community neighbor caring for neighbor?” She sighed, fighting back the frustration. “And that’s only part of what I experienced so fully with the Amish, Mother.”