The Atonement (25 page)

W
HEN
THE
FAMILY
HAD
ARRIVED
HOME
from church, Mamm approached Lucy and asked if they might talk privately, so Lucy suggested they go upstairs to her room.

In the quiet of the sunny space, her mother sat on the rocking chair near the window, motioning for Lucy to sit nearby. Lucy could only imagine what was on her mind.

“Your father and I talked following your, uh, discussion after this past week's grief class,” Mamm began. “We're both concerned that you haven't been attending communion Sundays since—”

“Mamm . . .”

Her mother's eyes were sad, not accusing. “My dear, it's one thing to hide your guilt from your family but quite another to hide from the ministerial brethren.”

Lucy glanced about her, suddenly wishing the door was closed. No need for Lettie and Faye to overhear. She rose to shut the door soundly. “My heart's still in pieces, Mamm. I can't think of takin' communion and bringing more tribulation on myself.”

Her mother fell silent and turned toward the windows. She sighed heavily, obviously at a loss for words.

“This is something I've pondered many times. I just don't know how to move past my sin.”

Mamm gazed at her. “My dear, it's the Lord alone who forgives.”

Lucy sighed. “I really don't see how I can find a way to make things right, though.”

Mamm looked dejected. “It's not in your power to redeem yourself. Just ain't possible.”

The comment hit home, crashing down on Lucy's head as her mother rose and left the room.
Dat . . . and now Mamm, too,
she thought, knowing it was wrong to go for communion, considering the state of her heart.

Lucy felt uneasy as she got on her scooter and left the house for Bud and Gracie Friesens' later. The afternoon sun had burned the blue from the sky, and the neighbors' woodshed and the corncrib looked dark, even withered, beneath its intensity, despite a bank of dark clouds to the west. She noticed the field corn belonging to the neighboring English farmers had already been harvested, whereas many of the Amish farmers were still in the process.
Most will probably finish up this week
.

As she turned into the Friesens' long lane, she spotted Dale, who waved. He was standing outside with Kiana and Van, talking with Bud and Gracie. It delighted Lucy to see Gracie already so engaged with Kiana. She parked her scooter and hurried to join them near the cottage-like guesthouse.

Bud was doting on little Van, letting him pick up one of the barn kittens as the five of them walked over to the white guesthouse with dark green shutters. Kiana pointed out how pretty the golden mums were in pots along the small front porch. “This reminds me of my childhood home,” she told Gracie, smiling over her shoulder at Lucy.

The lovely refuge might just be the salve Kiana's broken heart
needs,
Lucy thought.
And having Bud and Gracie nearby will be an added blessing. . . .

———

After the short tour of the house, Kiana seemed ready to sign on the dotted line, but Bud said her word was her bond, and after she said yes to their conditions, they shook hands to agree. “You may move in whenever you're ready,” Bud said, looking nearly Amish, minus a beard, in his Sunday clothing, including tan suspenders.

“I never dreamed my son and I would live in such a peaceful place,” Kiana said, adding that she didn't have much to bring with her. “I'll need to get a part-time job to buy some furniture and things.”

Gracie's face burst into a smile. “Say, our neighbors next farm over are looking for a babysitter three afternoons a week. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if your son tagged along.”

“Oh, I'd be interested in doing something like that! Yes, that would really help,” Kiana said, reaching down to hug Van. “This is the pot of gold at the end of our rainbow,” she told him, and he clapped his hands. She quickly explained it was one of his favorite bedtime stories.

“No gold-filled pots round here,” Bud said with a laugh. “But there's an unlimited supply of God's grace.”

Kiana nodded, eyes glistening. “Even better.”

A sudden wind blew up, and it began to rain. They moved onto the small porch, and Gracie and Kiana made arrangements for the move to take place tomorrow, with Bud's help.

Bud handed Kiana a key. “Though we never lock our own doors.”

When Kiana was ready to go, Van dawdled, already attached to the gray barn kitty. Gracie assured him he'd have plenty of time to play outdoors. “Our farm is your home now, too,” she said.

With a strong downpour settling over them, Dale asked Lucy
if she might like to ride with him to take Kiana and Van back to the shelter. “You'll stay dry,” he said, eyeing the scooter.

Lucy agreed, hoping this wouldn't upset her mother, as last Sunday's ride with Dale certainly had. It wasn't her intention to defy the church ordinance or her parents' wishes.

Dale put the scooter in the bed of his truck, and the four of them climbed inside, Kiana and Van in the pull-down benches on either side behind the front seat.

As Dale drove toward Lancaster, Lucy brought up the fact that she and Dale had gone last week to look at used cars. “We wanted to find one that might work for you, Kiana.”

Kiana frowned, obviously puzzled, and Lucy said she wanted to give her the money for a down payment.

“You've already done so much,” Kiana protested.

“I insist.” Lucy smiled and reached back to squeeze her hand. “It would mean so much to me.”

Dale glanced at his rearview mirror. “Perhaps you could view this as sort of a heavenly gift.”

Kiana relented and said she would only accept the money if she could write Lucy an IOU. “It may take a while, but I will pay you back.”

Lucy stood her ground. “A gift is a gift.”

Later, after they'd taken Kiana and Van back to the Water Street Mission for their last night, Lucy thanked Dale for intervening. “I honestly wasn't sure she'd accept.”

The rain was still heavy as Dale pulled into a coffee shop and parked. “Hope you don't mind if we stop here for a quick caffeine fix.” He grabbed an umbrella and hurried around to open her door, holding the umbrella to keep her from getting soaked. Inside the coffee shop, the aroma of espresso greeted them as they got in line.

Dale offered to pay for her beverage, and when they'd gotten their coffee, they found a table in the far corner. He guided her
to a chair, his hand on her elbow, then pulled out the chair for her. Lucy was thankful for the semi-privacy, already sensing a few intense stares from other customers, some Plain, including Rhoda Blank and her husband.

“Oil and water don't mix—
neither do Amish and English
,
”
Mamm had said more than once.

Dale mentioned how very generous she was in offering to help Kiana get a car.

Lucy shrugged it off. “Well, the money came to me in a most unexpected way,” she told him, reluctant to reveal too much. “It has to do with the time in my life when I was too interested in the outside world.”

“When you considered learning to drive?” He smiled.

She nodded. “I wasn't a very devout church member, to put it mildly. And it's still hard for me to forgive myself for my disobedience.”

Dale nodded, opening the top of his coffee to add some sugar. “Well, forgiving isn't something we do only for others. Oh boy, have I learned that. It's an essential step in bringing our hearts back to wholeness.”

“Now ya sound like your minister.”

Dale grinned. “Believe me, I'll never be as wise as Linden Hess, but I know I need someone to cover my flub-ups—past, present, and future. Someone who doesn't push me into admitting, ‘Yes, here's this huge weight, and I'm tired of carrying it.'
Someone
who waits for
me
to lay it all down at His feet.”

The Lord Jesus,
Lucy thought, an aching lump growing in her throat.

The rain had diminished somewhat as Dale parked his old pickup in her father's driveway. Gallantly, he walked Lucy to the back door, taking her by surprise yet again. She could hear
rumbling coming from upstairs and assumed the twins had been gawking from the window, just as they had done the first time Dat invited Dale over.

Before he turned to leave, Lucy said, “
Denki
for the delicious coffee . . . and for helpin' Kiana and her little boy.” She paused and looked into the face of her wise friend. “And for everything else, too.”

———

Christian had been looking out the stable door every few minutes for Lucy's arrival, wondering if Dale might bring her home, since another rainstorm had blown through the area. So he hadn't been too surprised when the red pickup pulled into the drive.

He'd let Lucy get indoors first before heading to the house. Christian watched as Dale removed the scooter from the pickup bed and then accompanied her to the door.

Were Sarah and I wrong about Dale's intentions?

Christian observed his daughter and her friend say good-bye. He honestly didn't know what to think. Considering Dale's gentlemanly demeanor, it was altogether possible he was simply being as polite as he was friendly.

Two rabbits crossed the barnyard when Christian finally headed to the house to find Lucy. He felt it was time to share with her about his own difficult past . . . his frowned-upon courtship with Minerva Miller. It was only right for Lucy to know she wasn't the sole family member who'd struggled against the church.

He found her sitting out on the long side porch, a black woolen shawl wrapped around her. Inching the door open, Christian cleared his throat. “Want some company?” he asked.

“All right,” she said, quickly diverting her gaze to the floor.

“Ya know, there are some ways in which we're a lot alike, Lucy,” he began, taking a seat near her. “It's past time I told you 'bout my first courtship.”

Lucy glanced at him.

“You see, I had my sights set on a girl, instead of on
Gott
,” he confessed. “Wanted my own way more than anything the church had to offer me then. I was a foolish teenager, pushin' the boundaries.”

Lucy raised her head a bit, listening.

“Thankfully, my father got me straightened out, put his foot down 'bout any ideas I had to marry Minnie. In fact, he demanded I break up with her . . . said I needed to get myself back on the straight and narrow.”

“I don't understand.” Lucy's frown was apparent. “The Millers are Amish.”

“
Jah,
her family is steadfastly Amish, but at the time Minnie had begun to stray a bit, curious 'bout other churches. She wasn't sure she wanted to stay Plain. And we started attending a more progressive church for a while, which broke both our fathers' hearts.” Christian inhaled deeply, hoping this was wise, sticking his neck out. “We even discussed running away to marry, planning to sort everything out later.” He added that they hadn't thought much of anything through. “We believed we were in love. All we cared about was being together.”