A Perfect Square (22 page)

Before leaving town, Callie stopped by The Kaffi Shop for a sandwich and a hot drink. Kristen was filling in for Margie, which explained the movie invitation. While Callie was grabbing extra napkins from the self-serve counter, she spied Shane sitting in the back corner.

“Working late?” she asked him.

He didn’t answer, only reached for his coffee and took a long drink, staring at her over the steam.

“Can’t we pretend to be friends?” Callie didn’t know why it mattered, but it did. “We always seem to end up on the opposite side of things.”

She reached down for Max and found him pressed against her leg, his presence a warm comfort. When Shane still didn’t answer, Callie shuffled from one foot to the other, feeling for all the world
like a child called to the principal’s office, which was ridiculous. Shane Black was not her principal. Her discomfort didn’t seem to faze Shane at all, but when Max whined once, he finally shook his head and moved over in the booth.

Callie hesitated a moment, then sat down beside him.

“It’s not that we’re on opposite sides, Callie.”

“Then what is it?”

“A week.” Weariness mixed with anger in his voice, but weariness won. “It’s been over a week since Deborah and Esther found her body, and I still haven’t been able to notify her next of kin.”

He glanced at her then — not through her, not past her, but at her, for the first time since she’d seen him in the booth. “Do you have any idea how that wears on me?”

Callie thought about that, thought about all the things she might say, all the things that might possibly make him feel better but would probably fall short. In the end she simply reached over and found his hand, which was sitting next to hers on the seat of the booth. He stared down at their hands, at her fingers entwined with his.

She might have imagined it, but it seemed like some of the tension went out of his shoulders. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, then pulled away. Her heart dropped, a stone headed to the bottom of a very deep pond, but then he placed his arm across the back of the booth, his hand lightly touching her shoulder.

She didn’t know what to think of that, but she was very glad she hadn’t decided to have a frozen dinner at home.

D
EBORAH WAVED
when she saw Callie being ushered toward their bench. She couldn’t help smiling as her friend drew closer — the look of surprise on her face was comical. What had Callie expected, that an Amish wedding would be so different from an
Englisch
one?

Callie made her way down the bench, past several older women, until she reached the empty spot Deborah had saved. The area where they’d set up the benches looked out over harvested fields, now clean and ready for winter. Though it was early in the day, and cool for the first Thursday in November, the sun promised perfect weather for Esther and Tobias’ wedding.

“Am I late? It looks as if all of Shipshewana made it here before me.”

“There’s at least ten minutes still before the singing begins, and I saved you a seat with us. I wanted you close in case you have any questions.” Deborah smiled over the top of Joshua’s head as he climbed onto her lap. “Did the professor you visit have any information on finding Mr. Bontrager’s
dochder
?”

“No. It was a long shot, but he said he’d call if he found anything.”

“Well, you did your best.” Deborah patted her hand.

“Men and women sit separately?” Callie waved at Martha, who was seated next to Mary. The twins were seated at the end of the row. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best.

“At church we do, and a wedding is another form of holy celebration for us. Jonas is a little further back on the other side.”

“Oh.” Callie stared around her, still feeling at a loss. Finally she turned to Deborah and said, “I would have been here sooner, but I changed clothes three times. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to pick something to wear to an Amish wedding.”

“What you chose is fine,” Deborah said, reaching out to finger the tailored suit made of a beautiful pearl-gray wool.

“Lydia said any color is fine. She said the bride doesn’t wear white.”

“No. Our brides wear blue, and it’s fine for others to wear it as well, as you can see.” Deborah nodded to the women around her. The dresses created a virtual color wheel. Though they tended toward the darker side, there was no doubt that everyone had on their very finest — still clothes that could be worn on Sunday, still functional, but made special for the day by extra starch in the aprons, prayer
kapps
pinned with extra care, and eyes that sparkled.

Or maybe it only seemed that way to Deborah.

Perhaps she was reading her own excitement in what her friends wore and how they looked.

“All the men look so nice. Everyone in black jackets and black hats — I’ve never seen them so spiffed up.”

“Is that what you call it in Texas?”

“Spiffed? Maybe. Of course in Texas, there would be cowboy hats on the top and cowboy boots on the bottom.”

“Do you like my dress, Miss Callie?” Mary pulled on her white apron, which covered a dark green dress.

“It’s very pretty, Mary.” Then Callie added, “Maybe I should have borrowed Lydia’s dress again and worn it. I thought it fit okay, and I’d blend in better — “

“I’m glad you didn’t. I believe people are still talking about how you looked that day.” Deborah smoothed her own dress, then turned toward the rear of the seating area as she noted the hush that fell over the crowd of nearly two hundred people.

She tried to see the wedding as Callie must see it. There were no flowers. Though some of the younger Amish girls now did put flowers on tables, Esther had decided to stay with the traditional ways. There was no formal wedding gown nor any music to greet the prospective bride and groom.

Then everyone in the church rose, in one accord, and began to sing. And Deborah knew it didn’t matter that there were no instruments to accompany them. The sound of their voices — raised in harmony, joined in singing the songs of their parents and grandparents — was a more beautiful sound than any instrument could make.

As she glanced around at her children, at her friends and relatives, Deborah understood in her heart the absence of decorations as well. They were all the decorations that Esther and Tobias needed — the beautiful sight of so many loved ones gathered in one place, so many turned out in their finest to spend an entire day wishing them the very best, singing praises to the Lord on this — the first day of their married life — and praying for the birth of their marriage.

Not one often moved to tears, Deborah was surprised to find her eyes stinging as they began singing the second hymn. Twice in one week now she found herself crying. Why was that? Why on this day? On Esther’s day?

As she accepted the handkerchief her mother-in-law passed back to her, Deborah stared down at it. The cloth still held the indention from where Ruth had held it as she passed it to her, passed it over her grandchildren. There was a bond between them as a congregation, as a family, that was stronger than anything could tear apart.

Now Esther would again have such a bond — with Tobias’ family.

And Reuben?

She would have to trust Reuben into God’s care.

So Deborah sang, and she cried a little more as she thanked God that Esther would have Tobias’ hand to hold, like she herself had Jonas’. That Esther would have Tobias’ strong presence by her side, like she herself had Jonas’. And that Leah would have Tobias to guide her through the years ahead, as her own children had Jonas.

Once again, God had taken care of his own.

Three hours later, Deborah placed a plate of food down in front of Callie.

“Aren’t you eating?” Callie asked.

“I will as soon as I finish serving.”

Then Deborah spun and hurried back toward the kitchen. They’d worked out a serving line of sorts, and the plates were practically flying out of the kitchen. The meal had taken the work of many hands, but one look at Esther’s face, sitting with Tobias at the corner table, sitting at the
eck
, convinced Deborah it was worth the effort.

“Go and sit, Deborah. You look flushed. We have this.” Esther’s sister smiled and handed her two more plates. “One for you and one for Jonas. Now go. Sit and eat.”

She found her place across from Callie and beside Jonas, surprised to find her stomach growling by the time the blessing had been given.

“So what did you think, Callie?” Jonas had a teasing note in his voice, but it didn’t slow him from shoveling a forkful of roast chicken covered with bread stuffing into his mouth.

“I’ve never attended a wedding that long before,” Callie
admitted. “I’ve never been to any service that long — maybe a college lecture or two, some business meetings, but not church.”

“Do you regret coming?” Deborah asked.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed it for all the free fabric in the world.” Callie had been spreading butter on fresh bread, but she stopped, studying the newly married couple who were seated at the special table across the lawn. “I don’t understand how the ceremony was so romantic, but it was. There were no rings, no vows, they didn’t even kiss.”

“But there was their love for each other,” Deborah pointed out.

“And the blessing. Don’t forget the blessing.” Jonas salted the mashed potatoes and creamed celery on his plate. “What is more romantic than a new couple being blessed by the bishop as they head out into the world?”

“I suppose. I’m going to have to think about it. This is all so different from what I’m used to, from my own wedding.” Callie set down her fork, though she’d yet to take a bite.

“So you had the typical
Englisch
wedding,
ya
?” Jonas grinned mischievously. “Long white veil, tall
Englisch
shoes, long skirt thing that little mice had to carry.”

Deborah slapped him on the arm. “You know very well that’s a fairy tale. There are no mice in
Englisch
weddings.”

Callie picked up her fork again. “He’s correct on all other counts though. I did have the long veil and the tall shoes, and I even have photos to prove it. I can show them to you — “ As soon as she closed her mouth around the food, Callie’s eyes grew wide.

“I knew she’d stop talking when she tried the food.” Jonas grinned at them both.

“It doesn’t keep you from talking,” Deborah pointed out.

“
Ya
, but I’ve had years of practice.”

“This is amazing. Deborah, do you know how to make this?”

Their conversation then turned to recipes and details about the wedding, but Deborah couldn’t forget the look of longing,
the look of loss that had passed over Callie’s face. She, too, had once enjoyed the kind of closeness that Esther now knew. Deborah needed to remember to pray that God would bring a special helpmate into Callie’s life.

The afternoon went on like that — sometimes filled with melancholy, but more often saturated with laughter.

At one point Deborah had Callie and Melinda all to herself. “What with the murdered girl in the pond and Callie searching for Ira’s daughter, we haven’t talked about selling quilts for ages.”

“Which reminds me — “ Callie tucked her hair behind her ear, often a sign that she felt guilty about something—”I haven’t had a chance to mention that I might have a new way to sell your quilts.”

Melinda stopped fiddling with baby Hannah’s
kapp
and looked up eagerly. Deborah glanced over at Esther. Her friends depended on the money brought in from their quilts. She was more than eager to hear new ideas.

So Callie quickly recapped Nancy Jarrell’s offer.

“Chicago?” Melinda squeaked. “It’s so far, and it’s such a big city.”

“Yes, but we’d only be going to the museum, and you wouldn’t have to go if you didn’t want to. I could take the quilts myself.”

“We’ll need to talk to the bishop first.” Deborah reached down and picked up Joshua, who had flung himself at her legs.

“Of course.”

“But I see no difference in selling them in a museum or selling them in your store.” She hugged Joshua to her, grateful that when there was more need, God always seemed to bring added blessings.

“I was hoping you’d say that. Talk to Bishop Elam and let me know. I’ll email Nancy to tell her know you’re interested and would like to know more details.”

Melinda hugged them both, then hurried off to oversee the
games and matchmaking. They had barely started when Deborah noticed Callie slipping her small cell phone back into her purse, a puzzled look on her face.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“No. No problem. That was Professor Reimer from Notre Dame.” She shook her head and pulled her purse over her shoulder. “He thinks he may have found Ira Bontrager’s daughter.”

Esther reveled in the feel of Tobias’ arms around her. She had thought their time alone might be awkward. It was anything but. Tobias was both gentle and attentive. He made her feel like the beautiful young woman she’d once been. Now lying together in her bedroom, the bedroom of her childhood, it seemed that her life had come full circle.

“Are you asleep yet?” Tobias whispered.

“No. I thought I would be.”

He pulled back her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. “Perhaps you’re too tired. After a full day of wedding—”

“And an evening in your arms …” she teased.

“
Ya
. There’s that too.” He pulled her closer as the wind outside rattled the shutters of the upstairs window.

“It was a
gut
wedding. A
gut
beginning for us.”

Tobias nodded, but didn’t interrupt — waited instead for her to find words for the joys and aches that were keeping her awake so late this night.

“I was a little surprised so many of our
freinden
attended.”

“Because?”

Now she flipped over, needing to face him in the dark, even if she couldn’t see him. “Because not everyone believes in his innocence. Because not everyone understands why …” She stuttered, fumbled in the dark with her pain.

“Do you think they wouldn’t do the same for their own family?
Perhaps you misread others’ looks or silences.” Tobias’ fingers traced her cheek in the dark. “Often folk are silent when they don’t know how to express their concern. I think the time you’ve spent alone might have made it more difficult for you to accept their desire to help.”

Esther wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him about the time she’d been alone with Leah and had only her family to help her.

But had she been alone?

Those days were blurry now. There’d been Deborah and Melinda, always. Others had come though. Perhaps she’d pushed many away while she’d been hurting.

It could be that there were some who wanted to help Reuben as well, who believed in him, but didn’t know how.

She wanted to help Reuben but didn’t know how.

So instead she snuggled into Tobias’ arms. “
Ya
, maybe you’re right.”

“Words every man longs to hear.”

“Reuben was right as well.” Esther yawned, sleep finally winning over the dozens of thoughts flitting through her mind — like birds hopping over an early morning’s frosty field. Thoughts of the next three days filled her dreams, when they’d travel to a different relative’s home for each meal, collecting wedding presents and even staying overnight.

But by Sunday evening, they’d be back at their place — at Tobias’
grossdaddi
’s home.

At their home.

“And what was he right about, sweet Esther?”

“When he told us not to postpone our marriage.” The words were a whisper on her lips, barely uttered before sleep claimed her. Or perhaps she only dreamt them.