Until Angels Close My Eyes (18 page)

A nurse rushed in and flipped off the monitor. The silence seemed deafening. The nurse felt for a pulse. “He’s gone,” she said.

Leah crumpled onto the bed, sobbing, her lips pressed against Neil’s ear. “I love you, Neil.” Suddenly the words were not enough. And they were the wrong words. “Daddy,” she choked. “I love you, Daddy. I love you.”

D
awn had broken when Leah and Ethan walked out into the cold spring air. Leah’s mother had remained to fill out paperwork and told them to wait for her in the lobby. But Leah couldn’t stand being in the hospital one more minute. Outside she shivered, and her cheeks, still wet with her tears, felt stiff and frozen. Ethan put his arm around her and they stood huddled together.

Leah said, “I half expected Gabriella to show up and save Neil. Wasn’t that stupid of me?”

“How do you know she didn’t?”

“I sure didn’t see her. Did you?” Leah didn’t hide her sarcasm.

“Just because she did not show herself to you does not mean she did not come. I believe she came to take Neil’s soul to heaven.”

“Why do you think that?”

Ethan pulled back and gave Leah an inquiring look. “Do you not know what today is, Leah?”

“I—I don’t even know what day of the week it is.”

“It is Sunday. Easter Sunday.”

Astounded, Leah asked, “It is?”

“Yes. It is a day for resurrection. It is a good day for angels to come and take Neil home.”

Later Leah and Ethan went to the funeral home for the viewing. Leah sneaked off to an unused room and sat, feeling numb and overwhelmed.

Ethan came into the semidarkness and sat down beside her. “I missed you.”

“I couldn’t stand it in there one more minute. I had to get out.”

“So many tears,” he said. “So much sadness.”

Leah turned to him. “You’re thinking about Rebekah, aren’t you?”

“Her memory is all around me,” Ethan confessed. “Amish, English—the pain is just the same.”

“You liked Neil, didn’t you?”

“Ya,
he was a good man, Leah. Yet today, it is not just Rebekah and Neil I am thinking of. I am also thinking of Eli. He is alive, but he acts as if he is dead to us.”

“That’s the way it was for my real father for so many years. He was alive, but he might as well have been dead for all the good it did us. I wanted him to come home so much.” The memory brought on fresh tears.

“Home,” Ethan said, with a longing in his voice that made Leah’s breath catch.

She reached out and held rightly to his arm. “Stay with me, Ethan. Please, don’t leave me now.”

He touched her cheek tenderly. “I will not leave you, Leah. I will not”

———

After the funeral the next day, Leah’s mother cried softly into a handkerchief. “I miss Neil so much. I feel so alone without him. Like part of me is missing.” She sounded desolate.

“We’ll be with you,” Leah offered.

“Yes,” her mother said, as if seeing her for the first time. “Yes, you will. It’s just us again, Leah. Only you and me.”

Leah wasn’t sure how to respond. Neil’s death had left a hole that neither of them knew how to fill. They got into the car and rode home in silence.

Guests arrived bearing casseroles and baskets of food and flowers. Leah and Ethan escaped to the solitude of the barn, and being around Neil’s cars brought Leah a measure of comfort. Ethan began to methodically polish the steel and chrome of the old automobiles.

“Neil won’t be back to inspect them,” Leah said forlornly.

Ethan glanced at her with sad blue eyes. “This is true. But I know he would want them cared for if he were here. I will keep them up for him.”

How like Ethan,
Leah thought. He did
his duty with such a sense of purpose. She felt purposeless, adrift, like a sailor marooned on a far-off island. What was going to happen to her and her mother now?

She watched Ethan polish the cars until it was dark and all the people had left the house

Two days after the funeral, Roberta came into Leah’s bedroom, where Leah was lying on her bed. Her mother asked, “Can I sit for a minute?”

Leah moved over to make room.

“I’ve just returned from Mr. Prentice’s office—you know, Neil’s lawyer.” Leah said nothing, and her mother continued. “We went over Neil’s will. He left everything to me.”

“Congratulations,” Leah said without emotion. “What will you do with it? Move?”

Her mother looked surprised. “This is home, Leah. I’m staying right here.”

“Oh.” Leah wasn’t sure what she’d expected her mother to say, but she was pleased her mother was staying put, relieved that this would still be home.

“Neil left you something too, Leah.”

Leah propped herself up on her elbows. “He did?”

Her mother held out a small gift wrapped in colorful tissue. “Neil wanted me to give you this after … well, after he was gone. It’s a graduation present.”

“He gave me the gold charm at the hospital.”

“This is something else he wanted you to have.”

Leah unwrapped the present and found a small key. “What’s this?”

“It’s a key to a safe-deposit box. In it are the titles to all the cars in his antique auto collection.”

“What am I supposed to do with his cars?”

“He left instructions that the proceeds from selling the cars should be used to set up a trust fund for you. Those cars are worth a great deal of money, and all of it will be yours to use however you want.”

Stupefied, Leah stared at the small key. “Neil did that for me?”

“Yes. He loved you like a daughter. Naturally, it will take some time to find buyers
for all the cars, but eventually you’ll have quite a nest egg.” She paused. “You know, Leah, it was always Neil’s hope that you would go to college. Now you have the means to do so.”

Leah’s mind was in turmoil. “I—I can’t think that far ahead now.”

Her mother patted her hand. “I understand. But please think about it. You know, I never had a decent education, and my life’s been … well, difficult. Not that an education will make things perfect for you, but it might make things easier.” Her mother stood. “Think about it. We can discuss it if you want.” Her fingers trailed across Leah’s hair and down her cheek. “I miss Neil very much. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m sorry we had so little time together but grateful that we had any at all.”

Once her mother had left the room, Leah’s mind raced. She had a trust fund. She had money. Suddenly nagging thoughts about her health nibbled into her consciousness and began to erode her awe and pleasure. She wanted to talk to Ethan. She wanted him to help her decide what to do.

Leah hopped off the bed, went down to the basement and knocked on his bedroom door. “Can we talk?” she asked. “I have some big news.”

“In a minute,” he called.

“I’ll wait for you on the front porch.”

Outside, the afternoon sun was lowering over the fields. The spring air smelled fresh and clean. She sat in the wooden swing, fidgeting, eager for Ethan to come. She heard the door open and turned just as he stepped out onto the porch. The smile faded from her mouth. Her heart lodged in her throat.

He was dressed Amish.

“W
hat are you doing?” Leah could hardly get the words out.

“I must go home.”

“But this is home!”

“This is
your
home,” he said, shaking his head. For the first time she noticed how long his hair had grown. And he now wore it as he had when she’d first met him. “I miss my family, Leah. I have to go back to them.”

His words hit her like blows. She wasn’t enough for him. Why couldn’t she be enough? “But I need you, Ethan. How can you leave me so soon after Neil’s death?” It
was as if her whole world were disintegrating.

He crouched in front of her and tried to take her hand, but she pulled back. “It has been Neil who has helped me understand where I belong.”

Leah listened, unable to accept what Ethan was saying. Neil knew how she felt about Ethan. He wouldn’t have urged him to leave. He wouldn’t.

“All this time of being around Neil, working for him, talking and listening to him, seeing how hard he fought to live, made me see that a person’s life cannot be lived independently of those he loves. Neil wanted you and your mother close to him. He wanted to give you all that he could of himself and of whatever time he had left. Neil was like a father to me in many ways. He reminded me of all the good things that my father stands for.” Ethan reached up and raised Leah’s chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “I am Amish. Just as my father is Amish, and his father before him, and all the fathers before that.”

“Eli seems to have adapted.” Leah’s voice quivered. “He made the decision to break from the Amish.”

“Then perhaps I can be the one to bring him back.”

“That’s dumb! He’ll never go back.”

Ethan stepped down off the porch and scooped up a handful of soil. He returned and held it out to her. His hands were big, callused, and stained by the heavy, dark soil. “This is my life, Leah. Already Pa has begun to plow the fields. He will plant soon. And Ma will start her garden.” His voice was filled with yearning. “I love the land. It is in my soul.”

“You belong here, Ethan. With me.”

“I cannot stay.” He let the soil drop through his fingers. It pattered onto the wooden floor.

“But what about your job with Dr. Prater? And that school he wants to send you to?”

“I will write and tell him I cannot accept.”

“It’s a way for you to be something else. Somebody else.” Tears were pooling in her eyes. She had thought she’d cried them all
out over Neil, but this fresh supply came from another area of her heart.

“I must return to my world.”

She sprang to her feet. “I’ve seen your world, Ethan. It’s a small, narrow world with no room for change. No room for people to think for themselves or to be different. It’s a boring world!” She bounded down the steps and ran out into the field. She ran until she thought her lungs would burst. When she stopped running, she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands.

Ethan was beside her in seconds. “Leah—”