Seasons of Tomorrow (19 page)

Jojo’s eyes narrowed, but she tilted her head, looking as if she may have misheard Rhoda. “You’re who?”

“Rhoda Byler. And your late husband’s mom is my neighbor.”

Jojo didn’t blink, didn’t appear able to take a breath. Then she broke free, shaking her head. “No.” Alarm registered in her voice, and her breathing intensified. “Is sh … she with you?”

“Ya.” Rhoda nodded.

Jojo searched the surrounding area and spotted Camilla. “Great.” She huffed and turned to the man at the counter. “Hey, Cody. Would you take over for me while I go on break?”

He looked at his watch. “Deliveries are due any minute. You know I have to be at the loading dock when they get here.”

“I need this.”

He nodded. “Okay, go.”

Jojo raised a section of the countertop and escaped her large enclosure. Without a word she motioned to Camilla and walked out the front door of the store. Rhoda and Camilla followed her.

Jojo turned. “Mrs. Dumont, I don’t know what’s going on here or why you’ve asked a stranger to get involved, but—”

“It wasn’t like that.” Rhoda shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “
I
got
her
involved.”

“Why?”

“I … I’m not sure. I only know that you and Zachary have a child, and—”

Jojo’s face flushed. Was that fury or panic in her eyes? Or both? “I should’ve known better than to return to this area.” She paced, a hand pressing her forehead. “I did all I could. I changed my last name, left without a forwarding address. I don’t even post images online.” She stopped pacing. “How did you find me?” Her tone didn’t sound at all like the professional woman she’d been only minutes ago. “Better yet, why?”

What was Jojo hiding from? Camilla? Or did something—or some
one
—else frighten her?

Then Rhoda knew part of the answer. Jojo hid because she fully believed a lie about Camilla. “Jojo, Camilla isn’t who you think she is.”

Camilla stepped forward. “I know I looked like a horrible person, one who’d be detrimental to your daughter. But if you’d give me a chance, you’d see—”

“A chance at what, being a part of Sophia’s life? Not happening. Not after what you put Zachary through.”

“I’m not married to his father anymore.”

“But that doesn’t change the legacy, does it? Sophia has an abusive grandfather and a grandmother who let him destroy her father’s life.”

Camilla didn’t flinch. “I was wrong, and I’ve paid a higher price than I even imagined, but I never abused Zachary in any way. I never hit him or screamed at him. And I never let his father hit him. Didn’t Zachary tell you—”

“Stop, Camilla. Just be quiet already.” Jojo looked over her shoulder and then moved closer and lowered her head. “You think what you did wasn’t abusive, didn’t leave scars, simply because it was passive?” She whispered, “You should go to a meeting of adult survivors of child abuse and listen. From the abusive parents who did physical harm to the addicts and lazy good-for-nothings who destroyed all chance for healthy emotional survival—all were guilty of deplorable treatment of their children. Neglect can be just as dangerous as a beating.”

Understanding of Jojo’s past washed over Rhoda. “You were abused.”

“Mind your own business!” Jojo spat.

But in that moment Rhoda saw what Jojo didn’t want seen. Zachary wasn’t the only one who’d survived an abusive childhood. He had witnessed his dad beating his mom, but Jojo had felt the physical sting of every blow.

Most couples were drawn together by an unseen force. Was that the hidden connection between Zachary and Jojo as teens—wounded spirits recognizing each other, looking for each other even before they met?

Rhoda could see Jojo as a child, could see the many years she’d spent crying out to God to protect her. Jojo thought her prayers had gone unheeded, but He had worked in the hearts of people, and when a parent chose to use his or her God-given authority for evil, He had brought help and justice through other means.

Was Camilla that very belated means?

Chills engulfed Rhoda. She didn’t know if Jojo was a believer, but God was on a mission, and Rhoda was merely a messenger who’d garbled the message.

“Jojo.” Camilla’s voice caught Rhoda’s attention. Rhoda blinked. Had she missed some of the conversation?

Camilla grabbed the straps of her purse and shifted them higher on her
shoulder. “I know now that I couldn’t have been more wrong to raise a child in that environment. I thought it was the only way I could provide for Zachary. Can’t you give me a chance to be in Sophia’s life?”

Jojo shook her head. “You raised your child as you saw fit. Now leave me alone to raise mine.”

Jojo wasn’t anything like Rhoda had imagined. She struggled as a single mom, and she longed to be all Sophia needed her to be, but Jojo was jaded beyond her years.

God, why? Why was it so important for me to find Jojo? What do You want her daughter protected from?

Rhoda put her hand on Camilla’s back. “Would you wait for me in the car? I’ll be right there.”

Camilla nodded, dug a piece of paper out of her coat pocket, and then turned to Jojo. “If you don’t want me in your life or Sophia’s, I will accept that. You didn’t need to take a new last name to avoid me. But if you ever change your mind, any kind of contact you make will be more than welcome. Come for a short visit, or come if you need a place to live. And if you discover tomorrow—or years from now—that you want a family for Sophia, please don’t hesitate to knock on my door. You’ll always be welcome.” She held out the paper. “This has my address and phone numbers. I’m there for you anytime.”

Rhoda squeezed Camilla’s hand, so pleased at how careful and encouraging she had been. “I won’t be long.”

As Camilla left, Rhoda cleared her throat, unsure what she needed to say. “You don’t know me, but the night I moved to Maine, I heard a child’s voice and then a man’s voice, both saying,
‘Tell them.’
”

Jojo backed away from Rhoda. Was that fear creasing Jojo’s features? Or … maybe … a trace of hope?

“Does that mean something to you, Jojo?”

She shook her head, but Rhoda wasn’t sure she was telling the truth. “I didn’t even know who to tell what, but as time passed, piece by piece I realized Camilla had a grandchild. I knew it before she was willing to let me know she had a son. She had kept his memory locked away for only herself.
It took great effort to convince her she had a grandchild. She had never considered the possibility that the day you left the clinic, you’d refused the abortion.”

“Why would those things about me come to you out of thin air?”

“I wish I knew.” Although she was clueless what else to say, she could ask a few questions, couldn’t she? “Do you have any idea why it would be so important for us to find you?”

“No.” Jojo looked at Camilla’s car. “Did you know that Zachary and his mother hadn’t been close for a couple of years?”

“She told me, but two years apart isn’t much when one gives birth to a child and raises him for sixteen or seventeen years. Did you know that Zachary contacted her months before he was killed and that at his request the two of them were going to family counseling together?”

Jojo shook her head. “No.”

“Joella!” The man from the counter stepped outside. “I’m needed out back on the dock.”

“Coming.” Joella shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “I gotta go.”

As Rhoda prayed for what she should say, one word came to mine—
honesty
. “He cares about you, doesn’t he?”

Jojo nodded.

“And he’s married?”

“Lots of people marry the wrong person.”

“You’ve gone out of your way to avoid Camilla because you fear she’ll be a bad influence, but you wait for a married man? You’re waiting for a man to untangle his life from his wife. Won’t that legacy harm your daughter far more than Camilla’s influence ever could? And what will the upcoming battle do to their children?” She was guessing the man had children, because he appeared to be a good ten years older than Jojo.

Jojo stared into the distance, and Rhoda hoped she hadn’t come across as judgmental. Facts and judgment were two different things, but they often appeared to be the same.

“You don’t know what it’s like to try to survive on your own.”

“I don’t. I imagine it’s terrifying and lonely and filled with hardships.”

Rhoda put together little snippets from past intuitions and the info the private investigator had uncovered. Jojo had been evicted from a run-down mobile home, but she did all she could to provide music lessons for her daughter. Jojo hadn’t been given the opportunities afforded by loving parents. Her view of family—of Camilla—was skewed. “It’s easy to make poor decisions but hard to set them right again.” Would she understand Rhoda thought that pushing Camilla away was the wrong decision, that waiting for a married man was a wrong decision, but that Jojo could still make them right? “Thank you for talking with me. I’ll let you get back to work.” Rhoda headed for the curb.

“Wait.” Jojo held out the paper Camilla had given her.

Was she refusing to keep Camilla’s contact information?

Jojo shook it at her. “Write your info on that too. But don’t get your hopes up. And don’t contact me again. If I change my mind, I’ll contact you.”

Relief hit so fully that Rhoda’s knees shook. She hadn’t offended Jojo? Rhoda’s hands trembled as she scribbled her info. “I hope you can read it.” She passed the note to Jojo.

“Yeah, I think I can.”

“Bye, Jojo. I hope … I pray you contact us.” As Rhoda walked off, she realized that while she had ignored the prompting of her intuition, Jojo’s heart and life had become more intertwined with a man who was married and had children.

But was that the danger Rhoda had sensed?

SIXTEEN

When no one was looking, Leah hurried across the yard, heading for an escape. How often had she hidden in a loft while growing up? Countless times. Landon had left here five days ago, and every hour had felt like a week at least. She wouldn’t talk to him for a year?

A year …

It already had been too long to be apart. But the scariest question was, would she and Landon be separated forever? Was he so angry because of what she’d said that he wouldn’t return even when he was allowed to?

Leah hadn’t felt this undone since she’d met Landon. Somehow when her Daed had arrived here treating her as he did, she’d been hurtled back to her childhood, to a time of powerlessness and quiet agony. But the situation with Landon made everything so much worse—as did knowing she’d said things that had hurt him, things she didn’t mean.

She climbed the familiar rungs to the loft. Everyone had yielded to Daed: Landon, Steven, Rhoda, and Samuel. She should’ve known Rhoda would vote against her if it meant keeping her Amish.

Leah climbed into the haymow and began to search for the boxes of books she’d moved to Maine. She found several and realized she’d opened them at one time or another while taking chosen books to her small bedroom. But for some reason she’d never unpacked a lot of her favorites. As she removed a few from their box, the dusty books felt like old friends—the only ones she’d been able to rely on while growing up. They’d been her escape from a life she’d never wanted.

Catherine, Samuel’s former girlfriend, used to disapprove of Leah reading fiction—and just about anything else she did. Leah had called Arlan the other day, just to see how he and his sister were doing. Arlan was concerned that he’d caused trouble for his parents, but he didn’t blame himself. He blamed the strictness of the Ordnung. Still, until he could move out of his parents’ home, he wouldn’t do anything else that would get them in trouble.
He’d said Catherine was doing well. She had a new boyfriend and was so focused on her future that she ignored the constant whispering about Arlan’s more liberal and embarrassing ways. Apparently, like Leah, Catherine was finally growing up.

Focusing on the books, Leah continued searching through the boxes. The books were organized into favorites and least favorites by a system that would have made no sense to anyone else. Like most things it barely made sense to her now. She picked up a copy of
The Quiet Man
by Maurice Walsh, one of the few novels she’d enjoyed that wasn’t a mystery. Landon once told her it’d been adapted into a famous movie in the early fifties, starring a man who typically portrayed Western American cowboys. Seemed to her that a man known for being a cowboy shouldn’t be cast in a comedy-drama. It didn’t fit. Just like she didn’t fit in Landon’s world.

And he didn’t fit in hers.

With or without her, he would find his place in his world, and he’d eventually be happy. But she would never fit into hers. Not really. She never had.

Landon
.

All her thoughts seemed to lead back to him and their would-be life together. If only she could change something,
anything
, she’d said or done before he left, but life didn’t allow for—what did Landon call them?—do-overs. Those were for games and rehearsals of school plays. Of the many things she’d learned during her rumschpringe, the most important was that life was not a game.