Gay Amish 03 - A Way Home (23 page)

“You’re doing a great job.” Jen rubbed his arm. “I need to work on that, because right now all I want to do is scream at them and tell them they suck donkey balls.” She cleared her throat and looked to June. “Uh, excuse my language.”

But June only laughed. “No apology necessary.”

David felt a swell of affection for Jen and her crude language. “It hasn’t been the same without you.”

She winked at him, and then her smile faded. “Do you guys think this bishop will say yes to the bone marrow? I get that there are rules about shunning and all that crap, but it’s not as if Aaron will be handing him the blood vials himself. There’ll be plenty of middlemen.”

“I honestly don’t know.” Aaron nodded to Isaac and David. “What do you think? He wasn’t bishop in Red Hills, and I barely remember him. Is he the type to let an innocent kid die to follow arcane and arbitrary rules that are ultimately completely meaningless?” His lips tightened. “This fairness thing is a process, clearly.”

“You’re being plenty fair.” Jen shook her head. “Nathan’s life is on the line. That’s the only thing that should matter here. Not that your parents will care what I think.”

Aaron gave her a little smile. “No—but I do.”

“So do we,” David added. He pondered her initial question. “I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think Bishop Yoder will say no. He let my mother use a wheelchair with rubber tires after her accident. And the machines Nathan’s hooked up to use electricity. To refuse would seem too cruel.”

Isaac gripped his fork. “I’m not sure what Deacon Stoltzfus will say though. Not that he’s in charge, but…he’s so tough on the rules. He once added Abraham’s Mary to the Bann for two weeks for her dress being half an inch too short. She’d grown and her mother was making a new one, but Mrs. Kaufmann had just had a new baby and was sick in bed. But he wouldn’t take any excuses.”

“Wait, is this a different Mary? Not your sister?” Jen asked David.

“Right. A different Mary.”

“How do you not get confused with so many people having the same first and last names?”

June chuckled. “I’ve often wondered the same thing. Is Abraham Mary’s father?”

“Yes. That’s how we keep people straight.” David frowned. “I never really thought about it.”

“Or you use a nickname,” Isaac added. “Like, Silo Marvin is the one with the silo. Obviously.”

“Huh. Okay, so what does that mean?” Jen asked. “The Bann?”

“It’s the same as being shunned, but it’s only temporary,” Isaac answered. “A punishment for breaking a rule.”

“For the sake of a few millimeters of cotton? Wowsa. And I thought Adventists were strict.” Jen laughed. To Aaron she added, “Babe, next time I complain about my family, please remind me of this conversation.”

Aaron’s lips quirked up. “You can depend on it.”

As June asked more about Jen’s Adventist upbringing, David took another bite of creamy noodles, this time with a hunk of mushroom. The mention of the deacon brought back memories of Joshua, and poor Martha and Rachel. He could see Joshua climbing out their bedroom window, running off to get drunk and high without a thought about the consequences. The consequences they’d all paid instead. The consequences that had brought them here to Minnesota.

What would his life be like if they hadn’t? Not that he could ever be glad it had happened, but as he looked around the table at the people closest to him in the whole world—the people who were his family just as much as his blood kin, and maybe even more—David felt a profound sense of gratitude for being there. His eyes burned, and he blinked rapidly.

Isaac ran his palm over David’s knee under the table. “Okay?” he whispered. Nodding, David took Isaac’s hand and squeezed, not trusting himself to speak.

When dinner was over, Jen hopped up to the dishes despite June’s protestations that she had a dishwasher. “I’m in the mood for some scrubbing,” Jen insisted.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Everyone mark this date, because it is the first—and I predict last—time Dr. Jennifer Paculba will be in the mood for any kind of housework, let alone dishes.”

“I’ll help,” David said, stacking the rest of the plates and following Jen.

June finally gave in, and when she, Isaac and Aaron were in the living room watching the end of the news, David rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “What do you want me to do?”

Jen put the plug into the sink. “I’ll wash and you dry?”

“Sounds good.” The chocolate cake was digesting in his very full belly, and David found it peaceful, wiping the plates and cutlery as Jen passed them to him and placing them on the plastic drying rack. They worked in companionable silence for a minute.

“So, how’s it going?” she asked quietly. “Have you been managing?”

“It’s okay, it’s not a secret.” He nodded toward the living room. “They all know. I told them.”

Jen smiled. “June too? Good.”

“There have been a few bad moments, but…” He dried the tines of a fork. “One time Isaac was there, and I talked to him. It really helped. I still have the feelings sometimes, but I don’t need to drink. I won’t either.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Jen tucked a chunk of thick black hair behind her ear. “I think it’s like a pressure valve. When you talk to other people about how you’re feeling, it can be scary, but it relieves the pressure so you don’t explode. You know what I mean? Sorry, that was a shitty metaphor, but it’s been a long-ass day.”

David laughed. “It was a good metaphor. I liked it.”

“You’re way too nice.”

“But that really is how it feels, you’re right. Like terrible pressure, and it boils over.”

Jen scrubbed a pot, the water in the sink sloshing around. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be here, so I got you in to see Dr. Curameng in a few weeks. He’s great.”

“I want to see him, but what about the money?” David’s gut tightened. “I haven’t done any work all week, and I’ll be late on projects, and—”

“Stop.” She held up a soapy hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it all out. You’ve got enough on your plate being back in this emotional minefield. For years you’ve taken care of other people and put yourself last. Let me help with this. You deserve it. Okay?”

He swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She nodded decisively. Then she lowered her voice. “And you and Isaac are good? You seem to be, what with all the mooning during dinner.” She elbowed him playfully.

His cheeks flushed. “Yes. We’re good. We’re wonderful.”

“Excellent. I missed you boys.”

“Wasn’t it nice to have your house to yourself again? Minus Aaron, of course.”

“As much as I enjoy my alone time sometimes, I really did miss having you there. When I married Aaron, I knew one day his siblings might come and stay. It’s been the best of both worlds. I know you’re grownups, but I kind of get to practice parenting without changing diapers.”

David laughed. “But you’re a doctor. Aren’t you used to all that…mess?”

“Sure, but it doesn’t make it any less stinky.” Her smile faded, and she pressed her lips together with a sigh. “And I saw Clark the other day.” Jen picked up a pot and scrubbed. “He’s genuinely sorry for what he did. I know when he’s bullshitting, and he really does feel like shit.”

“I know. I…I told him I forgave him. But I’m not sure I really want to hang out with him. Not for a while, at least. I don’t think Isaac will either.”

“I hear you.” Bubbles sloshed over the side of the pot as she scrubbed. “He knows Aaron and I are pissed.” She sighed and brushed her hair from her eyes. “Clark’s my brother. Not biologically, but in all the ways that count. He’s been there for me since we were kids, and I love him. Aaron and I trusted him with you and Isaac, and it hurts that he betrayed that trust. It’s going to take some time. There’s no excuse for what he did, and to his credit, he isn’t trying to give any.”

“Sometimes our family disappoint us, but we still love them. We all make mistakes. What matters is how we deal with them afterwards.”

She cocked her head and gave him a long look. “That’s very wise, David Lantz.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve made a bunch of mistakes, so I would know.”

From the living room, Aaron called, “
Jeopardy
’s starting!”

Jen turned the pot over on the side of the sink and led the way out of the kitchen. “Excellent. I always kick Aaron’s ass on the Potent Potables.”

Aaron grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

David settled next to Isaac on the love seat by June’s front window. June was in her reclining Laz-y-Boy chair, and Jen swung her feet up onto Aaron’s lap on the couch. Aaron relaxed back against the cushions, the tightness in his jaw and shoulders leeching away for the time being as Jen held his hand and teased.

Outside a brisk wind rattled the eaves trough, and David made a mental note to climb up and check it in the morning. He curled his feet up on the soft cushions, and he and Isaac leaned into each other as the game started. David hardly knew any of the answers, but as he listened to laughter and chatter fill the room, he didn’t mind at all.

#

As they walked into Nathan’s room the next morning, David could see the pain flash across Isaac’s face—a tremble of his lips and widening of his eyes before he forced a smile for his brother. David wanted to take his hand, but fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie instead.

“Hi, Nathan.” Isaac sat beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Nathan’s skin was as pale as the sheets, and the dark smudges under his eyes looked almost painful. “Okay,” he whispered.

David stood behind Isaac, making room for Aaron and Jen to come into the room and go the other side of the bed. Jen smiled as she sat in the other chair. She wore a thin purple sweater and dark jeans, and her long dark curls were looped into a knot. “Hey. I’m Jen. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh. Hi.” Nathan seemed momentarily confused. “You’re married to Aaron?”

“I sure am. What, you didn’t expect a petite and sassy Filipina? I don’t think Aaron envisioned marrying me either.” She kidded easily, winking at Nathan.

His smile was wan, but seemed genuine. “I guess I didn’t think you’d look like this.” Nathan raised a hand, a plastic tube stuck in the back of it. “Not that you look bad!”

Jen laughed. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I wasn’t too sure my family would approve of me ending up with a strapping white dude, but Aaron’s awesomeness could not be denied. They love him.”

Aaron exaggerated the roll of his eyes. “As if there was ever any doubt.”

Nathan laughed, and it was good to hear. David briefly squeezed Isaac’s shoulder.

“We shouldn’t stay long, but I wanted to meet you. You hanging in there?” Jen asked. “This sucks, huh?”

“Yeah.” Nathan looked at Aaron. “But the doctor said I might get better if the bishop says it’s okay.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that happens.” Aaron leaned down and squeezed Nathan’s arm. “
Everything.
”

“I know I should just trust in God that everything will be the way it should be.”

“Well, I think God gives us opportunities,” Jen said. “And it’s up to us decide if we take them. I’m told I can be rather persuasive. So I’m going to do everything I can to help, okay? Your parents love you very much. We all do. Everyone wants you to get better.” She smiled. “It was really good to meet you. We should skedaddle before we get in trouble for having too many visitors in here. See you later, okay?”

Nathan nodded. “Okay.”

David went around to take the empty seat. As Isaac asked Nathan about breakfast, David looked into the hall. From his angle he could see Jen and Aaron just outside, Jen scanning the clipboard of paper kept there in a plastic holder on the wall. Her expression was tight as she flipped the pages. She inhaled deeply and returned the clipboard to its place. Aaron lifted his eyebrows, and she took his hand and led him away.

“Right, David?” Isaac asked.

“Huh?” David refocused on Isaac and Nathan. “Sorry.”

“I was just saying that I was sure Mother would bring in some shoofly pie since Nathan missed it at the frolic.”

“Of course. Or I could ask my sisters to make some. They’d be happy to.”

Nathan seemed to try to smile, but his face dropped as he looked back at Isaac. “You’re wearing English clothes.”

Isaac glanced at David before answering. “I am. I decided not to stay at home anymore. It’s just not the right place for me.”

“Are you staying with that nice English lady?”

“Yep. June. She’s putting up David, Aaron, and Jen too.” Isaac laughed, although it was clearly forced. “She’s a glutton for punishment.”

Nathan peered at David. “You don’t want to stay at home either? Is it because you don’t like Amish clothes now?”

“It’s about more than that.” David tried to think of how to say it, but there was no good way. “It’s because I can’t be Amish now. The clothes don’t matter. It’s the rules, and how the things I want to do don’t fit with Zebulon.”

“But won’t your family be sad?”

“Yes. And I wish I could make it so they weren’t. But the only way to do that is join the church, and I can’t make a promise to God that I know in my heart I’ll break.”

Nathan took this in, and looked back at Isaac. “You won’t join the church either?”

Isaac shook his head. “It would be wrong. I hope God will understand. I hope you will too.” Isaac took a shuddering breath. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course. Even though I don’t like it.” Nathan licked his dry lips. “There are things I like out here in the world.” He lowered his voice and nodded to the TV high in the corner. “I watched a show about police catching bad guys last night. Lots of cars blew up. Don’t tell Mother and Father.”

“I won’t.” Isaac smiled, but then tears sprang to his eyes.

“Don’t cry.” Nathan reached for Isaac, alarmed. “I promise I won’t watch it again.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Isaac swallowed thickly. “You’ve always been a good boy, Nathan. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better brother.”

David longed to go hold Isaac, and tell him he was a wonderful brother, but it wasn’t his place to say it. Fortunately, Nathan spoke with more strength and determination than he’d seemed capable of in his condition.