Читать книгу Return to Paradise - Barbara Cameron - Страница 9

Chapter 2

2

David couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d wondered if he’d ever run into her, and now here she was as he stood, tongue-tied, not knowing what to say.

“So, is this the man you were looking for?” asked the police officer Lavina was sitting with.

“Er, yes,” Lavina stammered, blushing.

David tore his eyes from Lavina and noticed that the woman was a police officer. He frowned. “What, am I in trouble for something?”

“Nope,” the officer said. “Well, that was fast work,” she told Lavina with a smile. “I wish everything a citizen asked me about went as well.”

She picked up her check. “Lavina, it’s been fun. I have to be getting back to work. You give me a call if you’re interested in volunteering, okay?”

“I will.”

The server came over with a broom and dustpan. David watched Lavina apologize and try to take the broom to clean up the mess she insisted she’d made, but the server wouldn’t let her. The job accomplished, the server left, leaving David and Lavina standing there staring at each other.

“You look well.” He couldn’t get enough of looking at her.

“You, too.”

“You were asking that officer how to find me?”

“Ya.” She took a deep breath.

“Why?”

Bill walked up then. “David, I thought you were behind me and then I got up to the cashier and you weren’t there. Hello,” he said to Lavina. “I’m Bill, David’s friend.”

“Lavina Zook.”

David dragged his gaze from Lavina. “Bill, could you give us a few minutes?”

“Sure. I’ll wait for you up front.”

“Thanks.” David waved his hand at the booth, and Lavina slid back into her seat. He sat opposite her. “Tell me why you were looking for me.”

Had she missed him as much as he’d missed her?

She bit her lip. “I talked to your mamm the other day. David, your dat is very sick. Your mamm said she was afraid that if you didn’t come see him—” she broke off, obviously struggling for composure. She took a deep breath. “If you don’t see him now, you might never get to.”

“I’m sure she was exaggerating. He’s never sick. He’s too mean to get sick.”

Lavina shook her head. “I don’t think she’s exaggerating.” She took a deep breath. There was no easy way to say it. “She said he has cancer.”

David felt the news hit him like a blow to the gut. He rubbed at his temple, feeling a headache coming on. “He won’t want to see me. He’s the reason I left.”

“But if he doesn’t have much time . . .” she trailed off. “David, if you can’t do it for him, think about your mamm. She needs you right now.”

“I’ll think about it.” He got to his feet.

“Should I tell her I saw you?”

“It’s up to you.” He stood there, staring at her. Who knew when he’d see her again. “Lavina, I’m sorry for the way I left.”

“Are you?” she asked him. “Are you, David?”

She slipped from the booth and hurried away.

Torn, he started after her and then realized she’d gone into the ladies room. He glanced at the front of the restaurant and saw Bill standing there, looking out the window. Maybe it was best if he just left. He wasn’t prepared for seeing Lavina, and the news about his father had unsettled him. He needed to think.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” he told Bill. He paid the bill, and they walked to the truck.

Lavina came out of the restaurant and walked to her buggy. They watched her, but she didn’t see them—obviously not expecting David to be sitting in a truck outside.

“So is Lavina your girlfriend?”

David shook his head. “Was,” he said. “Was.”

He watched her drive the buggy away.

“Everything okay?” Bill asked him when David sat there without immediately turning on the ignition.

“She told me my dad’s sick. Very sick.”

“Man, that’s rough. You gonna go see him?”

He’d told Bill a little about why he’d left the community, but he hadn’t said anything about Lavina.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I just don’t know.”

He put the key in the ignition and started the truck. They drove back to Bill’s apartment in silence, then sat there, the engine idling.

“You have my cell number if you want to talk.”

David nodded. “Thanks.”

“See you Monday on the job. Thanks for lunch.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for help with the truck.”

Bill grinned. “I’m sure the two of you will be very happy together.” He got out of the truck and went into his apartment building.

David pulled out onto the road and drove back to his own apartment. The truck was just transportation to him. Expensive, challenging transportation. He hadn’t left his community for things like trucks or drinking or . . . whatever. He’d left it because of arguments with his dat and the bishop.

Mattie, his landlady, was raking leaves in the front yard when he pulled into the drive. “Well, look at you now. Bought yourself a truck, huh?”

“Yes. Do you mind if I park it here?”

“Not at all.”

“Let me do that.” He reached for the rake and his eyes widened as the little elderly lady put up a determined struggle for it.

“I can do it.”

“I know. But I’d like to. I miss doing things like this.”

She gave him a long look and then handed him the rake.

He really did miss working on the yard, on the farm. When he left, he’d had to find a job in town. He was grateful for it, but as he raked up the leaves, he enjoyed the crisp fall air, the exertion. The chance to not think about what Lavina had said even if it only put off things for a little while.

“I’ll go get some plastic bags,” she said.

They worked together, Mattie holding bags so that he could scoop up the leaves into them. Then David hauled the bags to the curb.

“Yard looks really good now,” she said when they were finished. “Thank you for the help.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How about some supper? I’ve got a casserole about to come out of the oven. Ham and scalloped potatoes.”

“Sounds wonderful,” he told her and meant it. On a cool fall night like this it was the kind of supper his mudder or his grossmudder might have made.

Mattie’s kitchen was small, but warm and smelled wonderful. He washed his hands at the sink and sat in one of the chairs, watching her pull the casserole from the oven. She served it with canned green beans and sliced bread. Simple, filling. David ate two servings of the casserole and hoped he wasn’t taking food she couldn’t spare. He figured she rented out the tiny apartment upstairs for extra money.

“That was good as my mudder’s—my mother’s,” he told her.

“That’s high praise,” she said, beaming, and her face creased into many wrinkles. “The Amish are great cooks. And how are your brothers, David? I haven’t seen them visiting you this past week.”

“I’ll be going by tomorrow to see them.”

When it came time to leave she insisted on giving him a Tupperware container of casserole leftovers. As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he thought about how he’d told her he’d be seeing his brothers the next day.

But he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that yet. He wanted to give himself time to think about how he’d tell them, what he’d say. But he knew he had to do it soon so his mudder wouldn’t worry and think they wouldn’t come. But what if they didn’t?

***

Lavina walked up to Waneta’s house and frowned when she saw only one light showed in an upstairs window even though the day was growing dark.

She raised her hand to knock at the door then she bit her lip. What if David’s dat came to the door? Remembering how he’d bellowed last time she visited made her hesitate and drop her hand.

Then she remembered how David’s mudder had looked . . . how she had cried when she said that her mann was ill, and how she’d begged Lavina to find her sohn and ask him to come see his dat. She couldn’t let the older woman down.

So she raised her hand and knocked, then knocked again, harder, when no one answered the door. Finally, when no one came after several minutes of knocking on the door, she gave up and turned to leave.

Then the door opened. “Lavina?”

She spun around and nearly slipped. “Waneta! I thought you might not be home when you didn’t answer.”

“I fell asleep,” she said, straightening her kapp with an embarrassed smile. “Amos had a bad night and I was up with him.”

“Oh, I can come back.”

“Nee, nee, kumm,” she said, holding the door open. “We’ll have some tea.”

“I don’t want to bother Amos.”

“He’s finally asleep. Kumm.”

Lavina walked inside and took a seat at the kitchen table. She watched Waneta bustle around making the tea. Her movements were quick, nervous. Lavina guessed that she was eager to learn if Lavina had found her sohn, but she wouldn’t want to rush and ask her without offering some hospitality after Lavina’s walk in the cold weather.

She waited until the cup of tea was set before her and Waneta had settled tiredly into her chair.

“I found David.”

She shook her head as she remembered how they’d come upon each other that day. Was it coincidence—or God’s plan?

Waneta’s hand flew to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. “You did? Already? Mein Gott!” Then her face fell. “But you didn’t bring him.” Her shoulders sagged. “He didn’t want to come.”

Lavina reached over and touched her hand. “He needs to think about it, Waneta.” She fell silent for a long moment. “I’m afraid old hurts don’t die quickly.”

Waneta nodded and stared at her tea. “I know. They said many a harsh word to each other before David left. I know he and his bruders may never come home again.”

“I’m sure he’ll come,” Lavina said reassuringly.

But she wasn’t so sure. She and David had talked so often about their families. His dat was . . . difficult. David had worked so hard to help on the farm, getting up early without being asked, shivering in the winter, sweating in the summer, milking cows, and mucking out stalls. Planting crops and tirelessly nurturing them and then harvesting them.

But his dat had never been satisfied. Never. He’d criticized and yelled. She’d seen red marks on David’s face that he wouldn’t talk about.

David had taken it until his mudder had tried to step in and stop him, and the blow that Amos had intended for David had landed on her.

He’d gone to the bishop for help and been turned away. His dat was a gut, hardworking mann, he’d been told. David needed to do as he was told and not interfere between his parents.

How was that right? he’d asked Lavina. A man wasn’t supposed to treat his fraa, his kinner, that way. She didn’t know what to say. It hadn’t been long after that conversation that she’d heard that David had left the community.

He hadn’t come to say goodbye to her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any cookies or anything to offer you with your tea. I haven’t had time to bake this week with Amos being so sick from his chemotherapy.”

“It’s allrecht. I need to be getting home for supper.”

She glanced around the kitchen. The room felt cold and only the overhead gas light lit it. Nothing was simmering on the stove or baking in the oven.

“Waneta, what are you doing for supper?”

She watched the older woman glance absently around the room. “Oh, I think I’ll just warm up some soup I have in the freezer, make some sandwiches for Amos and me. I don’t think either of us wants more than that tonight.”

“You’re sure I can’t help you cook?”

Waneta patted her hand. “You’ve done more than enough contacting David. Now you need to get on home for your supper before your family worries.”

Lavina hesitated. Her heart went out to the woman. She looked a little lost, a little lonely sitting here. In years past the table would have been filled with three big, strapping sohns and a mann, all acting starved after a long day working. There would be platters of food and elbow shoving if they weren’t being passed fast enough. Arguments over the last biscuit. Their dat had frowned a lot but ate his supper quickly and left the table.

Lavina didn’t have to imagine it. She’d been David’s guest for supper a couple of times and witnessed such. It had been quite an experience after the quiet meals she and her two schweschders enjoyed around their kitchen table. Her own dat was so warm, friendly, and different from David’s. And her dat’s relationship with her mudder was so different from the one she saw Waneta had with Amos.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow evening,” she promised. “Is there anything you’d like me to bring? Anything you need?”

The minute the words slipped out she wanted to bite her tongue.

Waneta smiled sadly. “Just David and Samuel and John.”

Lavina searched for a way to comfort. “It’s just been a day,” she said finally. “Give David some time.”

“I don’t know how much time . . .” Waneta trailed off.

“The doctors aren’t saying he has that little time?”

“Nee,” she said with a sigh. “It’s just that a bad day can weigh so heavy on the heart. It hurts so much not to be able to help him feel better.”

“I’m sure he’s grateful for all you’re doing.”

“Ach, you’re such a sweet kind. Amos has always been a very proud man. He doesn’t like relying on me right now.”

Her words reminded Lavina of David. He was much like his dat.

Sometimes she wondered if proud wasn’t just another word for stubborn.

***

Lavina paused in stitching her quilt. She and her sisters and their mudder sat quietly, sewing and chatting before a crackling fire, their toes toasty and warm while rain pattered against the windows. The scent of a big pot of beef stew simmering on the stove in the kitchen filled the house.

She couldn’t help remembering how Waneta’s house had been dark when she’d visited the night before, how Waneta had been so tired from caring for her husband that she hadn’t started supper and talked about warming up some soup and making sandwiches. She’d apologized for not having cookies to serve with the cup of tea she offered Lavina.

The community always rallied around one in need but Lavina suspected that the news hadn’t gotten out yet that Waneta needed help. She and Amos hadn’t attended church the past month . . .

“Mamm? Would you mind if I made some food to take to Waneta’s?” She explained what she’d found when she visited and her mother frowned.

“Of course. I’ll talk to some of my friends tomorrow, and we’ll see what we can do to help.”

Lavina set down the quilt and jumped to her feet. “Danki, Mamm.”

Mary Elizabeth set her work aside. “Can I help?”

“Schur.”

They walked into the kitchen and Lavina found a big bowl and the canister of flour. “I’m going to make some bread.” She eyed the stew simmering for their supper. “I wonder if we have the makings for some more stew . . .”

She found a package of stew meat in the freezer and carrots, celery and onion in the refrigerator and pantry. “I’ll start it and see if Mamm will let us take what she’s made. The new pot should still be ready for our supper, but this way we can take the food over to Waneta before it gets dark.”

“Ya. And maybe we can make up a basket of jars of canned vegetables and fruit. Amos needs to eat nutritious food while he’s on chemotherapy, right? We don’t know if Waneta was able to can before Amos got sick. Besides, even if she has plenty the canned goods will last on the shelf for some time.”

“Gut idea. Ask Mamm.”

Lavina sifted flour and dry ingredients in the big bowl and soon the yeasty scent of bread rising filled the air. After she covered it with a towel, she turned to getting a big soup pot out. After flouring the meat she began browning it in the pot with some vegetable oil. She chopped onions and added them.

Mary Elizabeth glanced over. “You’re crying!”

She grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter. “It’s the onions.”

“You’re schur?”

Lavina nodded. It made her feel sad that David’s parents were going through such a difficult time and the family wasn’t together. Whether Amos healed from his cancer, she hoped the family would heal and be together.

For now, she and Mary Elizabeth could take some hot food and caring. And who knows, maybe at this very moment David was thinking of coming back.

Lavina shaped the loaves of bread into pans and set them aside to rise. She sighed. It was no good daydreaming about David coming back. She’d spent so much time doing that this past year . . .

She found an oven-safe dish and set it aside. As soon as the bread came out and cooled a little they could go. She raided the cookie jar and packed up the dozen or so peanut butter cookies. Later she’d bake some more and replace them.

“Rain’s stopped,” Mary Elizabeth said as she came into the kitchen.

“Gut. We can walk.”

“Walk?”

“Don’t whine. It’s only a few blocks.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s far enough. We’ll be carrying stuff.”

“I’ll carry the stew. You can carry the bread and cookies.”

A little while later they set out. The rain had cooled the air so it was a little nippy, but Lavina didn’t mind. Mary Elizabeth chattered as she carried the warm loaves of bread in her arms.

A truck drove past them. Lavina frowned. A red truck that looked familiar somehow. It stopped then backed up. The passenger side window rolled down. “Need a ride?” the driver asked.

It was David.