A Simple Charity (18 page)

“I hear you. Believe me, I used to hear a lot of complaints when I had to work weekends or holidays.”

“From your girlfriend?” she asked.

“Fiancée, but that’s over now.”

From the way his gaze sank back toward the fire, she sensed that she’d hit a nerve.

“Was it a difficult breakup?”

“You could say that. We grew up together. Lisa and I were together for more than fifteen years.”

Fifteen years … it made Meg feel like a novice in the world of relationships. “You definitely earn points for that one. I haven’t been in a relationship for more than a year. That’s a tough one.”

“Yeah. It was good for the first ten years or so. After that … I don’t know. Her family just about adopted me when I lost my parents. My grandmother loved her. We were a couple for such a long time that when it ended, it was hard to delineate that line between us.”

Meg was reminded of the many couples she had worked with
over the years, people from varied backgrounds and ethnicities. Many shared a common bond—a love that brought them close together. It was always a pleasure to work with a cohesive couple like that. Others … well, when there was an obvious dysfunction, Meg was not surprised to learn, years after she assisted in a birth, that the parents were no longer together. “Do you ever want to go back? I mean, maybe it’s not really over.”

“Oh, it’s over all right. There’s no going back.” She sensed the wound then, a sore spot that had not completely healed over. What had this Lisa done to him? She craved details, but it wasn’t her place to dredge the channels of his former relationships.

“Is it still awkward when you run into her?” she asked.

“I’ll say. Fortunately, she’s back in Philly. I got me a fresh start out here in Halfway. No ghosts of girlfriends past lurking when I come around the corner.”

She chuckled softly. “I doubt your fiancée was lurking.”

“Oh, she was a lurker, all right. But that’s all past. How about you? I’m not seeing any bling on that ring finger.”

“I’m still footloose and fancy-free.”

“A beautiful girl like you? Where you been hiding yourself?”

“You are such a sweet-talker, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“As I mentioned, my job is not very relationship-friendly. Childbirth is unpredictable; it makes for a highly erratic schedule. When you cancel two or three times, guys get annoyed.”

“I have an irregular schedule, so I would get it.”

“Maybe you would. Too bad you don’t live in Pittsburgh.”

“Nah. I wouldn’t do a big city again. I’m thinking you might want to step up your visits here. That way we could spend some time together. See if this hunch I have is right.”

She smiled up at him. “A hunch?”

He nodded. “And I have pretty good instincts. It’s a cop thing.”

“And what do your instincts tell you about me?”

“That I can trust you. That you’ve got your feet on the ground and your eyes on the sky.” He took the empty mug from her hands and set it on the end table. “That there’s something sizzling like a live wire between us.”

“Did you just take my tea away?”

“It’s cold, and I don’t want it to spill when I kiss you.”

“Is that where this is going?” She drew the question out in a low, teasing voice.

“Yeah, girl,” he said in that south Philly, bluesy way.

She almost laughed at being called a girl, but wasn’t that how he made her feel? Young and spontaneous and free. Giddy and smart and pretty.

She could feel the heat of his body as he moved closer, resting his arm above her head on the sofa. He smelled clean, a lemony scent, and when his lips met hers she tasted coffee and yearning … such tender desire in that short but heated contact.

Without words, she pressed against him for another kiss and gave him the answer that burned deep in her heart.

15

T
wo days after Emma and Gabe King’s wedding, Zed was at the Lapp house, trying to get back to work. There was still much to do to finish the place by January, and he’d been off the job for a few days on account of the wedding. He’d been happy to be included among the group of people helping out at the Kings’ dairy farm. There’d been all sorts of tasks that needed to be done, including landscaping, setting up furniture for the wedding, and wrangling horses for the guests. On the wedding day, Zed had been happy to have tasks that kept him away from the social gathering and the likes of Dorcas and Becca. It was getting harder to fend them off without hurting their feelings, but he kept turning down their dinner invitations or notions that he might attend a bonfire.

Today Zed had thought he might finish priming the trim around the carriage house doors, but when he saw Gabe trying to balance a set of box springs on the cart, he knew the younger man needed help.

Zed looped the rope around the runners of a rocking chair, pulled it taut, and tied a knot. “Ya, that’s not going anywhere.” He stepped back and looked up at the mountain of furniture piled onto the cart.

Gabe King tested the edge of the wooden rocker and found that it was secure, despite the fact that it hung precariously over the edge of the cart. “It’s good and tight. Where’d you learn to pack a cart, Zed?”

“Here and there. I’ve helped my brothers and sisters move out of the house.”

“I told Emma we needed some furniture,” Gabe said as he pushed a basket in behind a mattress. “I didn’t know she’d find us so much.”

“It’s just a few things Fanny said we could take,” Emma called from behind the cart, where she was tying up plastic bags filled with books. “And you’ll be happy tonight when you’re sleeping on a real bed instead of the hard floor.”

“You’re right about that,” Gabe called back to her. “How’s it going with those books?”

“I think I’ve sorted through all the ones I want to keep,” she said, coming around the side of the cart. “These others I promised to pass on to Leah.”

“Giving them to my sister?” A slow smile spread on Gabe’s face. “So either way, they need to get packed in the cart.” He shot a leery look at Zed, and they both chuckled.

“Maybe we can stuff a few more things under the mattress,” Zed said, frowning up at the top-heavy cart.

“I don’t think we can add a single feather to this heap,” Emma said. “How about if I follow in the buggy? There’s plenty of room for the books in there.”

“We’re going to need a buggy for sure,” Gabe said. While he headed off to get the buggy, Emma went inside to say good-bye to
Fanny, who had been working on wash with Elsie’s assistance. Moments later, everyone filed out of the house to marvel at the overloaded cart for themselves.

“Oh, my …” Fanny pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes bright with mirth. “Looks like you’ve packed everything but the kitchen sink. But there’s not an inch to spare. Where will you sit?”

“Right here.” Gabe scurried up onto the mound and wedged himself into a spot between the chest of drawers and the washing machine. “See that? There’s room for one.”

“And I’ll follow in the buggy with Elsie,” Emma said. “We’ll need help setting things up, and you have a good eye,” she told her sister.

“Can I go along?” Will asked, trying to climb into the cart behind Gabe.

“Me, too.” Beth took Emma’s hand. “I have good eyes.”

“You can ride with us in the buggy.” Emma pointed to the bags of books. “I’ll put you to work carrying the small things.”

“Unless you need our help here,” Elsie told Fanny. “I can stay behind.”

But Fanny waved off the idea. “Go on, help the newlyweds. Most of the washing has been hung, and we’ve got a good dry day for it. The chores will be finished in no time.”

Delighted to have an adventure ahead, the children got to work toting the sacks of books over to the buggy. Zed and Gabe hitched two horses to the heavy cart, while Emma and Elsie supervised the loading of the buggy.

Minutes later they were ready to go. In his niche atop the heap of furniture, Gabe might have been riding a wild elephant down the road.

“Look at Gabe,” Fanny said with an amused smile. “He’s having fun driving that cart.”

“Gabe likes a challenge.”

“Then he’ll be good with Emma. She likes to push folks to the next step, whether it’s reading and writing or opening a business.”

Zed and Fanny watched as the bulky cart lumbered down the lane like a lazy cow. The buggy followed at a safe distance, the children turning back to wave just before they disappeared behind the nearest house.

“Off to their new life. I’m going to miss having Emma here.” Fanny gave a sigh. “I’d better check on Tommy.”

Gravel crunched under her feet as she went around the side of the garage, leaving Zed to wonder if he should go after her. He could tell that something wasn’t quite right, but it wasn’t his place to pry. If Fanny wanted to let him in, she would tell him her troubles as they went over the renovation or shared coffee in the morning.

Rooting around inside the garage, Zed found the can of primer and a clean paintbrush. It would be good to cover the new wood before the weather got too wet. He headed over to the carriage house, passing the rose, green, purple, and blue dresses, pants, shirts, and curtains hung on the lines, like rows of thick trees in the Lapp orchard.

As he neared the back porch, he saw Fanny’s feet emerging from a forest of laundry hanging over the porch. He opened his mouth to tease her about finding her way out of that maze of cloth when he heard the muffled whimper.

She was crying.

He paused, not sure what to do. Let her be, or offer her consolation?

Switching the can of paint from one hand to another, Zed considered. Despite his time out among the English, he was not a “smooth operator,” as one of the other truck drivers used to call himself. He found it hard to even talk to most women, let alone a woman in tears.

But Fanny was different, and he couldn’t walk away without trying to ease her pain.

“Fanny?” He put the paint and brush on the ground and lifted a shirt and blanket and dress, working his way in toward her.

“Oh, Zed. I didn’t hear you out there.” He got a flash of her red, swollen eyes before she turned away from him, unpinned a dress, and folded it in her arms.

“What’s the matter?”

“I was just thinking of Emma, and … it’s such a small thing. I shouldn’t be upset, I know that. But … I didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye.” A sob escaped her throat, and she pressed a fist to her mouth.

“She’s just moving down the road a ways,” he said gently. “You’ll probably see her later today.”

“I know that, but … but it won’t be the same. She’s gone off to live with her husband now, Zed. She’s taken her bed and her clothes. I was just thinking, Emma’s dresses won’t be hanging in this yard anymore. She’ll be hanging wash for two over at the Kings’ place.”

Zed looked right and left at the laundry that surrounded them in a cloth cocoon. Was this not enough washing for one woman to take care of?

“She won’t be far, but it will be different. At dinner, we won’t be hearing Emma’s stories of her scholars who memorized their times table quick as could be or struggled to hold a pencil right. And at Christmastime, when she teaches her students songs and stories to recite, Emma starts singing around the house.”

It was hard for Zed to imagine the serious schoolteacher humming a light tune, but he knew that people were different inside the privacy of their home.

“She was just a girl when I met her.” Fanny took down another dress and pressed it to her heart. “Only ten years old. Smart and well-behaved, but skittish as a colt. It’s hard to believe that time could fly so quickly, but suddenly that girl is married and leaving home. I know this is the way it should be, that young people marry
and move on, but it still gives me such a tender pang in my chest when I think of the little girl she used to be and …” Her voice broke and the dress dropped from her hands as tears flooded her eyes.

At a loss as to how to comfort her, Zed touched her shoulders gently, and then folded her into his arms.
“Geh lessa,”
he said softly.

Let it be.

Let it go.

Let it be what it is.

“Geh lessa.”
It was an expression Amish folk used in daily conversation, the simple desire to accept Gott’s plan. To submit. To yield to His way. Right now, it was all he could think of to bring her comfort.