The Bridge of Peace (9 page)

Ephraim moved next to him. “It can’t be all that uncommon for people to feel that way sometimes.”

He stared off in the distance, wishing he hadn’t started this conversation and yet too desperate to keep it all inside any longer. “If she’s picking up on how I feel, maybe I carry more blame than I think I do.”

“Or maybe she’s causing those feelings. Whatever’s going on, there have to be answers.”

He turned around to check on Ivan before he looked straight at Ephraim. “I’m so stinking mad at her right now that I’m afraid to go home. Just before I came here, Ivan said she plans on sending him to the handicap school.” Grey smacked the metal frame of the door with the palm of his hand. “As the head of our home, I have final say about where he goes, but why would she tell him that? Is he not perfect enough for her? Does she want to hide him from our district?” Even though Ivan didn’t understand much English and was at the far end of the building, Grey had whispered his words. “The closest school of that kind is nearly two hours away. We’d have to move, and I’d have to find a new job. If I thought he needed it, I’d do it. Is she seeing him wrong, or am I?”

The sound of wooden blocks tumbling made both Ephraim and Grey look at Ivan. He stood in the middle of strewn blocks, kicking them.

“I know he’s a little immature, but—”

“Grey,” Ephraim interrupted, “if we sent every immature first grader to the handicap school, a lot of us would’ve gone there. Including me.”

“He’s smart. I know he is.”

“He seems bright to me.”

“Then why would his own mother want to send him there?”

“Don’t know. He’s suppose to start school next year, right?”

“Ya.”

“If I were you, I’d refuse to argue about it. You need an outside opinion, and I’d bet Lena would be the best help. I could be biased, since she’s my cousin, but she’s really good at what she does—understanding and helping her scholars. If she spent an afternoon testing him, like she does her first-grade students right before they start school, she could tell you how close he is to lining up with the other children his age. And she could probably let you know how much of a handicap he has because of his missing arm.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. She’d be honest too. She can always be trusted for that, but I don’t know if Elsie will hear her.”

Ephraim placed his hand on Grey’s shoulder. “I find it hard to believe, but you still care what your wife thinks.”

He gave a nod before he turned to study the fields, willing wisdom and direction to come to him. “The one thing I’ve learned about being married is that how I feel changes nothing. Ever.”

“Whatever you do will be tough, but maybe what love you two do have is tougher.”

Ephraim’s words butted against the constant negative whispers inside Grey—the ones that spoke to him of defeat over and over again.

Love never fails
.

He caught a glimpse of understanding, as if seeing inside an unfamiliar room for a brief moment. Love had a hope all its own.

“Daed?” Ivan tugged at Grey’s pant leg. “Heem geh?”

Feeling tears sting his eyes, Grey lifted his son and held him close. “
Ya, loss uns Heemet geh
.” He looked to Ephraim. “It’s time I go on home now.”

Eight

In her jeans and with her short crop of hair down, Cara continued reading the Sunday paper, enjoying the slower pace of between Sundays. Lori sat on a kitchen stool beside her, giggling over the comics. Cara hadn’t seen Ada or Deborah yet this morning, although she knew they were up. A fresh pot of coffee and a small fire in the potbelly stove had greeted her and Lori when they’d entered the kitchen about thirty minutes ago.

Deborah walked into the kitchen looking every bit as Amish as she did on the other six days of the week, except she had on a white organdy apron that didn’t cover the top half of her dress. Her hair was fixed just so. She made living Amish look easy. “
Guder Marye
.” Deborah bid a good morning before grabbing the poker. She opened the lid to the potbelly stove and stirred the embers. “We don’t want this burning for long, but we needed a little something to remove the nip in the air. I take it you’re not going to Dry Lake with us for services this morning?”

Cara bit her tongue and shook her head. It was an off day, for Pete’s sake. Besides, she had yard work to do. While shopping at yard sales yesterday, she’d found an item she wanted but didn’t have the money for. An older woman at the sale offered to buy the item for Cara in exchange for some yard work. So the two of them struck a deal, and by tonight Cara would have earned a fantastic gift for Lori. Of course it was used, but Lori wouldn’t mind that part—if she even noticed it.

Deborah fixed herself a cup of coffee. “Ada will be down in a minute. We’re leaving extra early so I can visit my family first. You’re welcome to join us. We’ll stay for the meal afterward and probably visit until midafternoon.”

“Nope, we’re good. Thanks.” Cara liked between Sundays ever so much more than church Sundays. Ephraim had church today in Dry Lake, and he would come to Hope Crossing next Sunday to go to church with her, Lori, Ada, and Deborah. But so far he’d not pressed her to come to Dry Lake on her off Sundays. She appreciated that. It was enough for her that she sat through three hours of unintelligible preaching every other Sunday. Of course Ephraim understood the language spoken during the service, and he’d grown up attending three-hour services.

What possessed the Amish to have such long services anyway? But sometimes, when a few Pennsylvania words that she understood were strung together, she found it exciting. And those rare moments helped move the service from hair-pulling boring to slightly interesting.

Deborah sipped her drink. “Just as well, I suppose. The meeting will be held at the Lantzes’ today.”

“Lantz?” Cara tried to hide the snarl she felt. “As in Anna Mary Lantz?”

“Ya. It’s at her parents’ place.”

Anna Mary’s parents—just the thought of them set her on edge. Their deceit had ruined Cara’s mother’s life and had opened the floodgates of bad luck. It’d overflowed into Cara’s life and even Lori’s, yet the Lantzes were still members in good standing. She’d never understand the Amish ways. Not ever.

“But if you don’t go.… Well, I just want some backup when Lena returns the favor for our prank on her.”

“She won’t pull anything on a Sunday during church, will she?”

“No, not during the service but maybe afterward.”

“Good luck with that, Deb.” Cara patted her on the shoulder.

“You’re awful. The plan was yours after all.”

Cara shrugged. “Yeah, but Lori and I met an old woman yesterday. She lives a few doors down, and we’re going to her house in a little bit.”

“To visit?” Deborah asked.

“Sort of. I’ll tell you the rest when we get back.” She placed her index finger over her lips before pointing at Lori. “It’s a surprise.”

“But you’re not wearing that, are you?”

Cara looked down at her clothes. “Yep. It’s my off day. I’m comfortable. And I’m in my rumschpringe.”

“Well, now, see, you’re a little wrong. It’s the Lord’s Day. You’ve already admitted that dresses are just as comfortable as jeans. And the rumschpringe doesn’t apply to you since its purpose is for freedom to find a spouse and you’ve found one.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Hair pinned back and prayer Kapp too?”

“You don’t have to, but do you think wearing only part of our Amish apparel is a good idea?”

“I guess not.” She sighed. “Great.”

Ada walked into the kitchen, wearing what looked like a new burgundy dress under a new apron. Cara whistled.

Ada’s cheeks grew pink. “Don’t be ridiculous, Cara.”

“Oh, so there isn’t a man in Dry Lake you’re hoping to look good for?” Cara continued to tease.

Deborah’s face radiated behind her mostly hidden smile, and Cara knew she hoped the same thing for Ada.

“That’s more than enough, girls,” Ada said firmly before she took a chair. “I feel too old for such nonsense.”

“You’re not old. Don’t you know forty is the new thirty?” When Ada looked torn between amusement and true embarrassment, Cara decided to change the subject. “How are you getting there if the horse is lame?”

A car horn tooted, and Cara had the answer to her question. A driver was picking them up.

“Ephraim’s driver for the cabinetry shop stopped by yesterday and volunteered to come get us and bring us back home today without charge, so we took him up on it.” Deborah gave Lori a quick hug. “You be good.”

“
Gut is was ich bescht duh
.” Lori beamed at her, saying something along the lines of, “Good is what I do best.”

Ada gave Cara a hug. “The way you see me and tease, you do make me feel younger.” She took a step back. “I don’t know how we’d have gotten through these past few months without you.”

“Denki.” Cara winked. “Be sure to bring Ephraim back with you, okay?”

“You think we or
anybody
could stop him?”

“I hope not.”

After she closed the door behind them, she scurried upstairs and changed her clothes. By this afternoon she’d have helped an elderly woman and bartered for something Lori had only dreamed of. Excitement coursed through her. She couldn’t remember when she’d had the ability to give Lori something truly special.

Grey stood at the sink with a cup of coffee in one hand while reading a newspaper he wished he hadn’t picked up. The words made his heart thud with longing and … and jealousy? The Amish Mennonite newspaper had been neatly tucked in its rack since last Wednesday. While walking past it, he’d spied his own name—Benjamin Graber. Folks called him Grey, but Benjamin was his given name. So the newspaper had caught his attention, and he’d grabbed it to see what the man who shared his name had been up to. The impulse had seemed innocent enough. But now here he stood, flooded with emotions.

“Reading the paper on a Sunday before church?” Elsie asked.

He heard her complaint, but he continued reading the article. The man who shared his name lived in Ohio with his wife. It was common for the Amish to have the same given name and surnames. That was part of the reason for his nickname. According to the article, this Benjamin had been married for three decades, and he and his wife finished each other’s sentences, laughed easily, and shared their heartaches freely. They’d enjoyed blessings and suffered losses by leaning on each other.

Grey set his coffee and paper on the counter and stared out the kitchen window. How did he and Elsie get to such a miserable place? Each of them living in their own world, yet they shared the greatest bond this planet had to offer—marriage vows. And a beautiful child as proof of that unity.

But it was as if they stood on opposite sides of a wide canyon. They could see each other, but even when shouting across the chasm, they couldn’t understand much, if anything, of what the other one said, and there seemed to be no way to cross over.

When he’d come home last night, he’d tried to keep to himself what he’d learned of Elsie’s intention to send Ivan to a special school. His thoughts were still lingering on the words
love never fails
, but when she’d grumbled about his clothes smelling like fish and about his wasting too much of the day on nonsense, he’d snapped at her, saying that Ivan would go to the local school. She’d stood in front of him speechless, looking frustrated by his anger. They’d muddled through the rest of the evening, offering stilted half sentences when conversation couldn’t be avoided. The moment Ivan was in his bed for the night, he’d retired to his bedroom, closing the door behind him without another word being spoken. Never had such a gulf existed between them as the one last night.

When he stopped gazing out the window, he saw Elsie skimming the article he’d just read. Pursing her lips, she slid the paper onto the table. Then she went to the refrigerator and grabbed several large blocks of cheese. It was their contribution to the after-service meal. “It’s almost time for us to leave for church. Is the horse hitched?”

Were her hands trembling?

“Is that all you have to say?”

She dumped his coffee in the sink. “It’s a church day. And if we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.”