A Simple Vow (25 page)

Asa gazed at her small, sturdy hands as they clasped his and felt better immediately. After a moment her words sank in, so he began to walk toward the house, keeping his strides short enough that she wouldn’t have to jog—and she wouldn’t have to let go of him.
Lord, please, please don’t allow her to let go of me ever again,
he prayed as they approached the house. “You—you left your basket—”

“It’ll be all right. I thought you—and Drew—might share some lunch with me,” she replied as they stepped up onto the porch. She grabbed the doorknob and then stopped, gazing up at him. “Asa, these past few days have been impossibly quiet without you and the babies,” she confessed. “I can’t not talk to you anymore. We have to figure out how we feel and what comes next—but first, we’ll fix your thumb.”

Asa nodded, willing to go along with whatever she said if it meant an end to the torture of wondering how Edith felt about him . . . and about getting married.

“Stick your hand under cool running water,” she instructed as they entered the kitchen. “Where do you keep your first-aid stuff? Bandages and antiseptic.”

“Upstairs bathroom,” Asa murmured. “But I’ll warn you. We bachelors don’t keep much of that stuff around.”

The sound of Edith’s quick footsteps on the stairs soothed him. He stuck his thumb under the water, gingerly peeling away the paper napkin as he washed away the blood that had seeped all over his hand. Before he’d had time to assess the seriousness of his wound, Edith was beside him, setting down the box of Band-Aids, a roll of wound tape, and the ointment she’d found.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll have to amputate,” she teased as she again took hold of his hand. “Might not hurt to have Andy look at this, though, in case it’s deep enough for stitches—”

“It’s not
that
bad,” Asa protested as he reached for a towel. “Just an ordinary, everyday cut like guys in my profession get all the time. But thank you for caring,” he added gently.

Edith flashed him a smile. “You men are all alike. It’s a wonder more of you don’t die from neglecting basic first aid and hygiene. Here—I’ll wrap it tight with this until the bleeding stops. I don’t see anything else to use.”

Asa couldn’t believe it when she leaned closer to his hand and wrapped one of her long
kapp
strings tightly around his thumb. “But you’ll have a bloodstain on your—”

“Just an ordinary, everyday fix for a problem we girls deal with all the time,” she quipped. “But thank you for caring.”

You have no idea how much I care—how much I’ve missed your smiles and upbeat chatter
. Asa didn’t say this out loud because he was savoring Edith’s earnest nursing . . . the warmth of her slender body as she stood close to him, holding his hand between hers.

“We have to forgive Drew,” she said softly. It was a no-nonsense statement that brooked no argument, yet she wasn’t bossing him. “And we must pray for Leroy and Louisa, that they’ll find the home God intends for them, even . . . even if it won’t be here, with us.”

Asa sighed and slipped his arm around her. It had cost Edith a great deal to say that, because she loved the twins even more than he did. She had also gotten right to the point of his recent feelings, because until he forgave his brother there would be no moving forward—in his business dealings or in the home life he wanted to share with this wonderful young woman. The silence between him and Drew felt as overwhelming as that proverbial invisible elephant folks talked about, occupying all the space and every moment they shared. There wouldn’t be enough room for Edith in his life—in this house—if that silent, enormous elephant continued to dwell here.

“
Jah,
you’re right,” he finally admitted. “But I don’t know what to say.”

Edith turned her face so she could look up at him as she kept her
kapp
string wrapped around his finger. “I know exactly how that feels. I figured you fellows are probably sick of cooking for yourselves, so lunch might be a
gut
way to get us all talking.”

Asa’s body relaxed as a light, airy happiness seeped into places where he’d been feeling so tense and grouchy. “You’re a genius, Edith,” he whispered. “And you’re a blessing, too. Even if Drew doesn’t take the bait and start talking to us,
I
have plenty to say to you alone, girlie.”

Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. She gently unwrapped her
kapp
string and studied the cut on his thumb. “If we put a big Band-Aid up and over your thumb, and then wrap some tape around and around it, I think it’ll stay on while you work. But you’ll need to change the bandage every day and keep it clean.”

“Maybe you could be my nurse, Edith. It would mean I’d get to see you every day,” Asa murmured. “After the lonely weekend I’ve had, your company will be just what the doctor ordered.”

Edith let out a short laugh. “Anything to avoid visiting Andy at the clinic,
jah?
”

Asa laughed. Although she hadn’t known him for long, she knew him pretty well. When his thumb had been covered with a Band-Aid containing antiseptic ointment and then neatly wrapped with the tape, the two of them headed outside. He grabbed the handle of the picnic basket and motioned for Edith to precede him into the shop. “Somebody took pity and brought us lunch,” he called out.

But the chair at Drew’s sewing machine was empty.

Asa went to the foot of the apartment stairs. “Drew, Edith’s here with a picnic,” he called up toward the open door. “We’d like you to join us.”

Silence. Then his brother said, “Nah, you two go ahead. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Phooey on that!” Edith blurted as she joined Asa at the stairway. “We three are going to make our peace—over fried chicken and fresh rhubarb pie. If you really want to get on my bad side, stay right where you are. We’ll eat your pie.”

Asa cleared a space on one of his worktables, wiping it with an old towel. Bless her, Edith had brought a jug of lemonade, warm chicken that filled the shop with its savory aroma, homemade rolls, slaw—and an entire pie. “What a feast,” he murmured as she placed three plates on the table and opened the packets of food. “You’re a saint, Edith. An angel come down to save me from myself.”

With a glance toward the stairs, Edith shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs he’d set around the table. “Let’s pray and eat. He’ll come downstairs, or he won’t.”

Asa took hold of her hand and bowed his head. Denki
Lord for blessing me with Edith’s company and her can-do attitude today. Heal what’s hurting inside Drew. Open our hearts to the forgiveness You would have us extend to each other.

For a moment he gazed at Edith’s bowed head, her serene expression, as she prayed. Footsteps on the stairs made them both glance toward Drew, who looked at the table as though wondering if they were setting some sort of trap. He stood behind the empty chair for a moment, inhaling deeply. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. Sure beats PB and J sandwiches.”

“
Jah,
those things can lay you low,” Asa blurted before he’d thought about it.

A rueful smile flickered on his brother’s face as he sat down. “Not one of my better ideas, feeding you those sleeping pills, Asa,” he said in a voice they could barely hear.

Edith passed Drew the plate of chicken. “We all do things we regret. But the real damage is done when we let those inner wounds fester, because they eventually poison us—not that I’m here to preach a sermon,” she added quickly. “I just thought you fellows might enjoy a meal somebody else cooked.”

Drew took a dinner roll, sniffing its yeasty aroma as though he’d never experienced such a treat. “You’re being incredibly generous, Edith, considering the way I—I tricked you during the past several weeks and messed up your wedding. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Edith’s eyes shone like cups of tea brewed to triple strength. “I accept your apology, Drew. And I forgive you.”

Asa marveled at her composure, her serenity. She made forgiveness look so easy, considering the way his twin brother had ripped her dreams to shreds on Friday. Even so, Asa preferred to wait out whatever his brother might say to him rather than echoing Edith’s simple goodwill. Drew had double-crossed him in several ways, after all.

His twin seemed content to bask in Edith’s kindness, devouring three pieces of chicken along with large helpings of the side dishes she’d brought. Drew appeared to be starving for more than food, however. His face seemed tight, and he was avoiding Asa’s gaze as they ate.

Edith finished her meal and looked at Asa and his brother. “I need your help with something before we have our pie,” she said softly. “Nora has suggested that we pray for Louisa and Leroy, asking that they find the family who will best be able to love and care for them. Three prayers are stronger than one, I’m thinking.”

Drew looked at her closely. “Why don’t you just ask God to bring them back here to you? You
know
that’s what you really want.”

“Who am I to tell God what to do?” she countered calmly. “He knows what I want, just as He knows what’s best for those wee ones. Shall we?”

Edith extended her hands across the table toward Asa and his brother, gazing steadily at them. Asa took Edith’s hand in his, and so did Drew, but when it came to clasping hands with another man, both brothers hesitated. Amish guys weren’t into being touchy-feely—but Edith’s silent, relentless plea finally got to him.

Asa stuck out his hand. He realized then that Edith had a strategy for bringing him and Drew together, if only during the time it took to pray for the babies. And if Drew wouldn’t complete their circle, he stood out as the one who couldn’t get beyond old behaviors to embrace new ones.

Once again Asa marveled at Edith’s fortitude. Her courage. She’d come here today with no guarantee that her food or her request for prayer would be appreciated, yet she’d taken that risk to initiate the forgiveness process. She’d realized that sheer stubbornness might keep him and his brother from having more than short, surface conversations, and she was trying to break through the invisible barrier they’d erected.

Several seconds ticked by. Asa didn’t move his hand. Edith didn’t stop gazing sweetly at Drew, as though willing him to comply with her wishes. The rhubarb pie sat in the center of the table, the ultimate enticement.

Finally, sighing loudly, Drew took Asa’s hand and bowed his head. Edith smiled, bowing hers, as well. Asa sat for a moment, taking in this scene and the power of this simple moment. When he gripped Drew’s fingers, his brother returned the pressure—and suddenly, Asa was filled with a hopeful yearning. The separation they’d known these past four days had taken more of a toll than he’d realized. Yes, his twin had played some unthinkable tricks on them, but Drew had also admitted to a lifetime of feeling unworthy—less than acceptable, even to their parents.

As Asa bowed his head, he couldn’t imagine the pain his brother, his closest kin and friend, had suffered for so long. Asa had never known rejection, yet Drew had felt inferior—lacking—every day of his life.
I can’t change the past, Lord—can’t change the way Drew feels—but maybe I could be more aware now, and try to understand him better. He and I need each other more than we’re willing to admit.

Asa paused in his prayer, savoring the feel of Edith’s and Drew’s hands . . . the bond the three of them shared during this quiet moment. That’s how it would be when he married Edith, too—Drew would always be in the picture. And Asa wanted him there, needed him there, despite the way Drew had tried to marry his intended bride.

Releasing the breath he’d been holding, Asa vowed to fully love his brother again—for he and Drew were truly each other’s keepers. Edith was wise enough to realize that, and to bring them to this moment of reckoning and reconciliation.

When Asa opened his eyes, Edith was beaming at him. They waited a few more moments, until Drew raised his head. Their hands were still joined in a circle, and it remained intact for a few more moments.

“
Denki
so much for putting in a
gut
word for the wee ones,” Edith murmured as she eased her hands from theirs. “I feel a lot better now that we’ve prayed as a family. I hope we’ll do that many times as the years go by, because I believe there’s great power when two or three gather together in Jesus’s name. I also believe in the power of pie.”

Asa blinked. Drew’s eyes widened. Edith reached for a knife and cut into the golden-brown dessert, maintaining a perfectly straight face.

Laughter bubbled up from deep inside Asa, and as the sound of his mirth rang in the rafters, Drew laughed along with him.

Edith giggled, grinning at both of them. “That’s what I like to see—folks laughing together. Sharing dessert and joy. We all need more joy, ain’t so?”

Asa sighed gratefully as she placed a large wedge of pie in front of him. “You’re the wisest woman I know, Edith.
Denki
for coming to our rescue today.”

Drew nodded, accepting his generous slice of pie. “I agree on all counts. You’re a
gut
woman, Edith, and I hope my wrongdoing won’t keep you from marrying Asa,” he murmured. “I can see now that I almost messed up a match made in heaven, and—and I hope you both can forgive me.”

Edith’s smile softened. “Consider it done, Drew.”

“
Jah,
I want to wipe the slate clean and start fresh, brother,” Asa said as he extended his hand across the table. “It’s just no
gut
when we’re not getting along.”

When Drew gripped his hand and shook it, Asa sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a lifting of the heavy burden he’d borne since last week. “I feel so relieved,” Drew murmured. “I knew what I’d been doing was desperately wrong, and now I can start over. I made so many stupid mistakes and assumptions, Asa—and you’re the last person on this earth I should have betrayed. I’ll be in your debt forever, because you’ve given me another chance.”