The Bridge of Peace (42 page)

“My mother.” Cara didn’t budge, and she didn’t appear to Deborah to be breathing either.

The man weaved between folks until he arrived at the sidewalk and began hurrying away.

“My mother?” Cara’s face twisted, and then shock registered. She went around the counter, skirted people, and stopped on the sidewalk. “Hey!”

Deborah followed her, but the man kept going.

“Mister, wait.”

But he didn’t. Deborah had no idea what Cara wanted, but Ephraim arrived.

Cara cupped her hands around her mouth. “Trevor Atwater!”

Already halfway down the block, the man stopped cold. He turned, and Cara just stared at him.

He waited, but Cara didn’t budge.

Deborah placed her hand on Cara’s shoulder. “Who?”

Cara closed her eyes, shaking her head. “We’ve seen him here half a dozen times since we opened, haven’t we?”

“Ya, but who is he?”

Cara’s breathing was labored. Ephraim stood beside her, saying nothing. The man started back toward them and then turned and walked away.

“I can’t believe this. Is it possible?” Cara muttered.

Ephraim shrugged. “I … I don’t know.”

Israel moved ahead of Cara, staring after the man until he was out of sight. “The last time I saw him, he worked for your grandfather. It’s been nearly thirty years since then, but it’s him, Cara. All night I kept thinking I recognized him from somewhere.”

“Who?” Deborah asked. No one answered her.

“Great.” Cara clicked her tongue. “Another set of hurdles to trip over and land on my face.” She rolled her eyes. “If he returns, I bet it won’t be for a while. I think I spooked him.”

“Ya, I think you did,” Ephraim agreed.

Cara looked at Deborah, unwavering steeliness reflecting in her eyes. “That’s my dad.”

Her dad?
The man who had abandoned her in a New York bus station? Tears welled in Deborah’s eyes and she felt shaky, but Cara stood straight and calm and dry-eyed.

“It’s almost time to close up,” Ada said. “Let’s wrap up a little early and try to enjoy some fellowship with just us. I think we all need it.”

Ephraim angled his head, studying Cara. “You okay?”

“You know what?” Cara finally stopped staring at the place where the man had disappeared. “I’m not bad.”

Thirty-Six

Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the open window, showing every flaw in Lena’s face as she stared in the mirror. Folded inside her hands were glossy pamphlets she’d picked up in Philly earlier this week. She’d needed to get away by herself for a couple of nights, so she’d hired a driver to take her to a hotel. The sights, sounds, and aromas of the Amish specialties at Reading Terminal Market had helped her get this mess in perspective. She’d talked to a lot of Amish people she didn’t know, and walked the endless aisles that were lined with booths, each one housing baked goods, fresh fruits or meats, fascinating Amish-made crafts, or deli-type restaurants—all under one roof.

While in Philly she’d also checked into having her birthmark removed. What she’d learned planted a serious temptation within her. There were treatments that could alter her looks. She opened one pamphlet and reread the info. Laser surgery. It stood a chance of removing or almost removing the birthmark. Most likely, however, since she was in her midtwenties, the procedure would only lighten it. But was this what she really wanted?

It didn’t have the power to change anything between Grey and her because she’d always know the truth he couldn’t admit. But it might change how she felt about herself and maybe make it easier to accept the rejection.

“Lena?” her Daed’s voice came through her door.

She tucked the pamphlets inside her dresser along with the still-unopened letter Grey had sent to her. “Ya?”

He opened the door. “You sure you don’t want to go to Ada’s with me tomorrow?”

“Denki, Daed. I’m just not ready to mingle yet.”

Her Daed moved to her bed and took a seat. “I wish your Mamm were here. She’d know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. I have to adjust.”

“If you apologize for ignoring the board’s instructions and give your word you won’t do anything like that again, I think they might hire you for next year.”

“You think I’m wrong.”

“Ya. I love you just as much, but I don’t think any teacher at any school could get away with doing what you did without being suspended or losing her job.”

“But he needed help, and I made sure he got it.”

“I know. You have a good heart. Even in this uproar, no one in the community doubts that. But you can’t ignore our ways, or what a parent wants, or what the school board wants. You can’t decide what’s best all on your own. You wouldn’t want me to do that. When we disagreed during your teen years, you threw a fit, insisting I get a woman’s opinion. And since I was a single parent, I did. And you’re right—Michael shouldn’t have agreed to dismiss you without a hearing. Can you see how all this works?”

She shrugged. “Ya, I guess so.”

He patted the bed, and she sat beside him. “Tell me about this matter with Grey.”

Her eyes clouded with tears. It’d been six days since Dwayne had exploded at the auction and stirred rumors and caused her to lose her job. She hadn’t stopped reliving the humiliation of it yet. “What have you heard?”

“Rumors are saying Dwayne is full of sour grapes because you caught him with my watch and made him give it back. His folks are offended at the accusation, but best I can tell no one is siding with Dwayne. As far as you and Grey, I don’t suspect most know what’s going on to have anything to say on the matter.”

“Most?”

“I’d think someone knows what’s going on. Someone always does.” He pulled a letter out of his pocket and gave it to her. “Clearly it’s not me.”

She ran her fingers over the handwriting on the envelope. Grey had written to her again. “I love him, Daed. And I wish I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“I … I thought he loved me, but …” She traced the birthmark. “I’m thinking about trying to have it removed.”

“Lena, every human has flaws. And all of us have to deal with those flaws in each other. Pride makes us want to be perfect outwardly, but nothing can make us perfect inside. Do you really want people awed by an outward appearance that will fade fast with age?”

“If I’d had any experience with men, I wouldn’t have been so foolish or gullible with Grey. And if I were beautiful like Elsie, I would’ve had experience.”

“Being flawless won’t make him love you.” He placed the letter in her hand. “Surely you know that. And I know that
if
Grey isn’t in love with you, it has nothing to do with the birthmark.”

“You aren’t angry at the mess of tangled emotions going on between us when he’s only been a widower for seven months?”

“You’ve had enough people angry with you this week, my dear girl.” He stood. “Whatever you do from here, just remember how you would want to be honored if you were Elsie, okay?”

“But how do I know if he loves me or if he’s just being nice because he feels sorry for me?”

“Through the same gift that strengthens every good relationship—time and communication.” He strode to the doorway.

“Daed?”

He turned.

“Denki. Mamm couldn’t have done any better.”

He chuckled. “But she didn’t burn everything she cooked.”

“Again?”

He nodded. “We have no eggs left in the house, and tomorrow is muffin day.”

Somewhere deep within, her sense of humor began to stir again. “Those poor chickens—all that work for nothing.”

“Feel free to borrow my horse and go by Allen’s to get some eggs. And if your horse doesn’t settle down soon, we’ve got to sell her.”

“I’m not ready to sell her. I’ll try working with her now that I have more time.”

“I need to get back to work. I’m taking a small load of furniture to Ada’s tomorrow. Can you get the eggs?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere yet. We’ll just have oatmeal or something else in the morning.”

“Sure thing.”

Lena moved to her dresser and pulled out the first letter Grey had written to her. When she passed the mirror, she stopped. When had she started letting this birthmark completely define her worth?

She knew others who had obvious outward flaws. Did they want to change their looks too? Her thoughts drifted to Ivan. She would hurt all over if Ivan let what was missing on his body have final say about how he felt about the rest of his body. He’d have to live with having only half an arm his whole life. He could wear a prosthetic, but he’d still have a visible flaw … just like her. If she had her birthmark removed, what message would that send to him or to other people she loved?

She opened the first letter Grey had sent her.

My beautiful, sweet Lennie,

We’ve known each other forever, and yet it seems, in some ways, we don’t know each other very well at all. That doesn’t surprise or disappoint me. I look forward to understanding you better, to knowing more of your secrets and flaws and you knowing more of mine.

You’re as deep as those gorgeous eyes, as clever and witty and unpredictable (in a good way) as anyone I’ve ever known. But I am disappointed in one thing … that I have failed to help you see yourself through my eyes.

Please allow me to remedy that right now by sharing memories, thoughts, and truths of who you are to me.

But first, I don’t know why I wasn’t drawn to you as a young man, but I know it had nothing to do with outward appearances. We were friends, and you were my closest friend’s kid sister. You were fifteen when I was twenty. Thankfully, men don’t usually fall for teen girls, but I think the reverse happens more easily. I’ve always thought you were one of a kind—rare and worthy. When you were seventeen, I remember thinking you’d become a beautiful woman and would be a blessing to any man.

Here’s a story from our past—

The big boys needed to find that baby frog before little Lennie ate it … Can you remember that? I dare say no, but if you could, you’d remember I was brave and strong and not the one who laid it in your two-year-old lap as a gift in the first place. Okay, we’ve got that straight, right?

She laughed, and tears flowed freely. What a pair they made. His words continued until he’d filled three pages. He spoke of warm summer nights and private conversations they’d shared and years of them just being friends. Then he shared his journey of falling in love with her—the closest female friend he’d ever had or ever hoped to have.

Was it possible he really did feel as he kept assuring her he did? With that thought pounding at her, she opened the second letter. He’d filled it with white petals from umpteen daisies.

My beautiful, sweet Lennie,

I found a field of daisies … I know they aren’t blooming yet, but it’s my story, and you aren’t here to set me straight. So I found this field of daisies inside the florist shop and picked you a bouquet. After I paid for them at the cash register, I headed home. Along the way, and it’s quite a ways to a store … I mean, a
field
like that, I decided to take one flower and do the “she loves me, she loves me not.” Unfortunately, it landed on “she loves me not,” so I tried another flower, and another, and another. Do you happen to have any daisies in your greenhouse? I’m in need of more.

Your friend, your confidant, your first kiss and, with all that is good in my life, I hope your last …

Somehow that sentence didn’t work out as I’d hoped. I didn’t mean your last kiss ever. I trust you know what I mean. And I trust as time gives you perspective, you know what you mean to me.

Grey

    Feeling his hope and humor in each word, she closed the letter. Oh how she wanted to believe he meant every word. Feeling a little renewed strength, she decided to get out for a bit. They did need eggs for tomorrow, and she really would like to catch a glimpse of Grey.

After harnessing her Daed’s horse to the buggy, she drove to Allen’s.

Before going into his house, she walked to the far edge of the backyard.

The bridge
.

But it wasn’t finished. Grey had set the timbers on the cement foundation and nailed half of the decking in place. The wood for the other half was neatly stacked on the half-built bridge. A toolbox lay on top of the stack. She studied it, wondering why he hadn’t finished what he’d started. Across the creek and across Grey’s backyard sat the home he’d built for him and Elsie. A few moments later his screen door popped open, and Grey stepped outside. He strode across the yard, his shoulders broad and squared. He had a spring in his step, one she hadn’t seen in him in years, and she wondered when it had faded.

He studied her, as if soaking her in. “Lennie.” His voice sent warmth running through her.

“Hi.” She pointed to the bridge. “You didn’t finish it.”