Rebecca's Rose (33 page)

The laughing finally subsided, and Dad sighed and wiped his eyes. “You took me by surprise,” he said. “So, Mom dragged you back to the community.”

“I wanted to join.”

Dad propped his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together. “I’m not giving you any money, if that’s what you want.”

“I came to talk.”

Dad picked up a pen and wrote something in his notebook as if the conversation were already over. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

Levi winced. The relationship had been strained for too long. He had pushed his father away the minute Dad packed up his things and moved out. With his dad, Levi had returned evil for evil, and today he was reaping the consequences.

“Dad?”

“Forget about a poignant father-son moment, Levi.”

“I came to apologize.”

“You came to apologize?” Dad shook his head. “What you really want is an apology from me. You’re not going to get one.”

Without being invited, Levi sat in the overstuffed chair across from his dad. “Dad, just listen.”

Dad hesitated then tapped his pen on the desk. “I’m listening.”

“When you left, I let my temper get the better of me. I’ve had a lot of bad feelings toward you. I’ve been angry and resentful, and I ruined our relationship. I’m sorry.”

Dad briefly paused the tapping. “You wouldn’t even let me explain.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That e-mail you sent—”

“I never should have said those things.”

“I gave up. I did my best with you, Levi.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“It’s too late for that.” Bitterness tinged every word. “There’s no relationship. You’re a stranger to me.” He motioned in Levi’s direction. “Even more with that Amish stuff on.”

Ami, the secretary, knocked lightly and stuck her head around the door. “Julie Pantell’s on line one,” she whispered, as if speaking softly would be less of an interruption.

Without another word, Dad glanced at Levi and picked up the phone. “Julie, what did you think of those projections?” he said.

Levi was being dismissed. Just like that. After two minutes of a heartto-heart with the most important man in his life, they were finished.

Levi stood and placed a hand on the desk, leaning in and demanding his father’s attention.

“Hold on one second, Julie,” Dad said. He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “There’s really nothing left to say.”

“I want to say that I love you. You’re my dad. I’ll always love you.”

Dad sprouted a peculiar look on his face before turning away from Levi to the window. “You’ve done your duty,” he said. “You can go home with a clear conscience.” That was all he had to give. He removed his hand from the phone and continued his analysis with Julie as if he had never been interrupted.

The disappointment almost rendered Levi immobile. He stood like a statue until his dad rolled to his computer and started clicking. Blinking back the stupid, ever-ready tears, Levi turned on his heels and marched through the doorway.

After his talk with Nathaniel and a long night of soul-searching, Levi had felt so light, so free from resentment and malice, that he forgot the rest of the world might not share his enthusiasm.

In his imagination, the scene between him and his father played out like a sappy made-for-TV movie, where everything got nicely resolved in ninety minutes or less. Life proved more complicated. He should have known that. Look at how he’d managed things so far with Rebecca.

Walking in unprepared for his dad’s hostility made the sting that much worse.

And it really hurt.

Levi found a nice tree on a grassy spot across from Dad’s building and cried his eyes out for a quarter of an hour. Dad remembered the e-mail, written to him in a horrible state of mind right after he moved out. Levi had called Dad and his new girlfriend, Sherry, every foul name he could think of. He’d practically declared war. They never communicated again. Dad surrendered complete custody of Levi and Beth, moved to Chicago, and never spoke to either of them again. The only way they knew he was still alive was by the child-support check that came on the first of every month without fail.

Levi found himself slipping into the old patterns, the condemnation, the self-loathing, that had consumed him for five years. If he had been a better son, Dad wouldn’t have left. If he had tried to see his father’s point of view, he wouldn’t have abandoned them. All of it was his fault.

Levi swallowed hard and actually tasted alcohol on his tongue. The desire for a drink caught him off guard. He dug his fists into his eyes, said a quick prayer, and pulled Mom’s old Bible out of his backpack.

Knowing exactly what he searched for, Levi turned to the book of Revelation. Things got awfully dark in Revelation before they got better.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”

He’d made a complete mess of things with his dad five years ago, and no amount of wishing would change that. It was time to let Jesus take care of the past and make everything right through His grace.

Would Rebecca be willing to tap in to that grace too?

Vernon Wengerd was a big man—almost as tall as Levi, with thick arms and a barrel chest. Dottie Mae took after him. When she died at fourteen, she was five feet, ten inches tall and could wrestle her little brother to the ground with one hand.

Rebecca always felt extra short standing next to her, as she did now when Dottie Mae’s dat opened the door and gave her a big hug.

“Rebecca Miller, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I was told you never come to gatherings.”

“I would never miss a gathering at your house,” Rebecca said. “And I got my chores done early.”

“Whatever the reason, we are honored. And Linda, how nice to see you. Cum reu. Jane and the boys are setting up the Ping-Pong tables.” He still walked with a cane. The buggy accident had permanently damaged nerves in his leg.

Rebecca glanced around the family room. She and Linda were the first ones there, but Marvin would arrive soon. He was unfailingly prompt—an excellent quality for a husband. Rebecca massaged the back of her neck; she felt as if every muscle were pulled as tight as a cable.

She’d planned the early arrival on purpose so she could spend a few minutes with the Wengerds. The Wengerd house had always been a second home to her. The exposed wooden rafters tapered down the walls to an ancient wooden floor polished until it shown like glass. Jane, Dottie Mae’s mamm, loved plants as Rebecca did, and pots and planters of exotic and common houseplants sat on every unused surface. The purple afghan crocheted by Dottie Mae still had a place of honor on the sofa underneath Dottie Mae’s cross-stitched pillow that read, T
HE
L
ORD IS MY LIGHT AND MY SALVATION
;
WHOM SHALL
I
FEAR
?

Behind the sofa, a set of accordion doors opened into the large space where the Wengerds held church services. The doors were open now, and Jane Wengerd and her sons set up two Ping-Pong tables there for the gathering.

After Dottie Mae’s death, Jane and Vernon cared more for Rebecca’s grieving than they did for their own. They brought her small mementos of Dottie Mae and invited her over every Sunday evening to sit.

The Wengerds were more than a second family; they were Rebecca’s ideal family. In many ways, Vernon was the father Rebecca longed for—accepting, kind, and at home. And Jane labored dawn to dusk for the good of her ten children. Nothing was ever too much work if it benefited her family.

Rebecca didn’t dwell on those sentiments very often. The good Lord had blessed her with a hardworking fater and a mother who loved her children fiercely. And Rebecca knew how ungrateful her comparisons were.

Jane bustled to Rebecca’s side and embraced her warmly. “It has been ages since we saw you. Why must you be a stranger? You work too hard, I think.”

“Not as hard as you,” Rebecca said.

“The chores, your mother’s illness, they all wear on you. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Nae, I am fine.”

Jane took Rebecca’s hand. “Cum in the kitchen and help us finish the pretzels.”

Jane always had a task for Rebecca whenever she came to visit. Being asked to do something in Jane’s kitchen meant that Rebecca was part of the inner circle of the family instead of a mere guest who wouldn’t be asked to help at all.

The kitchen and family room were separated by a long wall with a wide opening so that the people in either room could see each other. Potted plants lined the ledge of the opening and trailed their leaves in cascades down either side.

A flurry of activity greeted Rebecca. Jane’s four daughters—Ruth, Naomi, Esther, and Hannah—bustled around the kitchen in a pretzel-making dance, laughing and chattering like they’d never had so much fun in their lives.

Hannah glanced up. “Rebecca, thank goodness you are here. Mamm insisted the pretzels be hot out of the oven for the gathering, but now we have to scramble to finish in time. Can you poach?”

“Jah, sure,” Rebecca said. She took the skimmer from Hannah and marched to the cookstove, where a pot of soda water boiled merrily. She loosened the frozen dough, already formed into pretzels, from the baking sheet and plopped two pretzels into the water. After a minute, she pulled them out of the water with the skimmer and placed them on the greased baking sheet manned by Esther. Esther brushed each pretzel with an egg wash and sprinkled it with salt. When the sheet was full, she popped it into the oven.

The Wengerds’ kitchen had two cookstoves that stood side by side, a luxury to be sure. But at a time like this, with pretzels to be made, the extra stove became a necessity. As quickly as Rebecca and Esther could fill a pan with pretzels, it went into the belly of the stove. When the timer rang at periodic intervals, Naomi whisked the golden brown pretzels out of the oven and into a basket, which she covered with a clean dish towel to keep them warm.

Esther nudged Rebecca’s arm. “Albert says Marvin Yutzy’s mamm told your mamm to plant celery this spring. Is there something you want to tell us?”

Rebecca blushed. Celery was a traditional wedding food. The bride’s mamm planted celery to prepare for the big day. Marvin hadn’t shared his wedding plans with her. Not that he needed to. His intent to marry her next fall was plain enough. But she had other plans. She could probably stall him for another two years before she committed herself.

“Maybe Marvin’s sister is planning to wed,” she said.

Esther and Hannah giggled.

“Eva? She’s fifteen,” Hannah said. “Oh, Rebecca, you know how to bust me up laughing.”

Once the last of the frozen pretzels was poached, Rebecca poured the water into the sink and washed the pan. Then she wiped the cupboards while Ruth and Hannah prepared bowls of jam, honey, and mustard for dipping.

Hannah placed her bowl on the counter and leaned close to Rebecca. “Marvin’s here, ready for some fun. Don’t let him sit too close,” she teased.

Rebecca looked into the family room as newly arrived young people greeted each other and visited before prayer. Adam and Davie Eicher played Ping-Pong at one table while two younger girls played at the other.

Marvin sat on the sofa talking with Abner. “Manure can be a good source of income for the dairy,” she heard him say.

She looked away—didn’t care much about that conversation.

The front door squeaked open, and Rebecca caught her breath as Levi walked into the room. Her heart leaped out of her chest, and she promptly shoved it back into place. She would get over this childish fascination with Levi Cooper.

Levi shook hands with two boys near the door as the eyes of every girl in the house seemed to follow him and drink him in like the dry ground soaks up rain. He flashed that one-of-a-kind smile and the girls practically swooned. Rebecca knew every line of his face, every emotion expressed in his eyes so well that she could almost read his thoughts. She could see that he wasn’t even aware of the attention.

Indignation soon replaced those unwanted feelings. How could he? She almost didn’t have words for his audacity. She stared at him as a thousand violent emotions warred inside her head.

Dottie Mae’s dat came into the kitchen lugging a bag of ice. She didn’t even acknowledge him—just kept staring at that impertinent young man standing in the Wengerds’ family room, who acted as if he had every right to be there.

“What’s wrong, Rebecca?” Vernon asked. “You all right?”

“I can’t believe he would show up here,” she murmured. “After what he did, how dare he set foot in your house? I will tell him to leave right now.”

Vernon saw where she was looking and furrowed his brow. “Don’t do that,” he said. “I invited him.”

“Don’t you know he is one of the boys who—”

“Of course I know. He is a gute boy. He came over last week and helped me fix my fences.”

Rebecca’s voice rose with her agitation. “But how can you stand to look at him? Because of him, Dottie Mae is gone. Your daughter. He killed your daughter.”

Vernon frowned, and pain flashed in his eyes. “Do not talk like that. All is forgiven.”

Her breathing became rapid; her hands felt ice-cold. “How can you forgive him? What he did was wrong.”

Vernon put down his bag and wrapped an arm around Rebecca’s shoulder. “Cum,” he said.

He led her up the stairs, and they sat on the top step looking down on the gathering…far enough away they wouldn’t be heard, high above where no one would think to look.

Vernon grabbed Rebecca’s hand and held it tightly. “Last week he came to ask my forgiveness again. He feels it very deeply.”

“Again?”

“The day after the accident, he came to the hospital and begged for my forgiveness. I never saw such remorse. How could I not forgive him?”

“Those four boys ruined your life.”

Vernon shook his head. “After the accident, do you know what Levi did? He jumped out of the car while the other three screamed at him to get back in. They were afraid they would get caught. He refused, and they drove away without him. When he saw that Dottie Mae was dead, he cried out like he was the one who had been hurt. After he called an ambulance, he stayed with me. He put pressure on my leg. If he hadn’t stayed, I would have bled to death. The doctor said as much. Levi saved my life.”