Fraying at the Edge (29 page)

“He's not a threat. His goal is to help me cope with the situation and to help me get back to Summer Grove. He wants you and me to marry and have children, because he knows I love you. And then we can be family to his Mamm.”

Resting his forearms on his thighs, Rudy stared at the ground but said nothing.

In mid-September they had disagreed over Quill's helping her purchase the café, and Rudy had lost all control. He'd railed with anger. But this silence was far more disconcerting. His anger she understood. Silence was harder to decipher.

“That's great, Ariana.
He
wants you to return to Summer Grove.”

His sarcasm caught her off guard.

With his forearms still on his legs, he intertwined his hands and never glanced her way. “I'm working really long hours to save for our future, assuring myself that, at the end of our forced separation, we'll be together for the rest of our lives.” He turned his head, looking at her. “But you're there with Quill, and I'm in Indiana. And now I'm wondering, at the end of this separation, is it going to be you and me?”

“Rudy.” What was he thinking? “Ya, of course it is.”

He studied her as if looking for the truth. “Promise me I'm not waiting for nothing. Promise me this ridiculous hardship your dad has put on us won't break us.”

“I promise,” she yelped before looping her arm through his and leaning against his shoulder. “I promise, Rudy,” she whispered. “You don't need to think twice about that. And I have a few ideas about how I might get home sooner.”

He kissed her forehead. “I hope they're rock-solid ideas.”

“Remember when we discussed what Nicholas wanted, and we agreed that it was God's will that I obey my parents?”

“Ya.”

“I'm rethinking that.”

He leaned forward so he could look in her eyes. Skepticism covered his face. “You're rethinking God's will?”

He was perfectly serious. But she didn't think she was wrong. Not in this.

“No. Goodness, no. I'm rethinking our view of His will. See, last weekend I went to a planetarium, and…” She told him even more than she had shared with Brandi, and he seemed to understand it in the way she needed him to.

“I can feel some of those things just by listening to you talk about them.” He scooted a few inches away and angled himself so he could face her. “The bottom line is you're hoping to find a balance between submitting to the scriptures about obedience to parents and following God as you feel He's leading you. That's dangerous ground, Ariana.”

“Ya, I know. But isn't it also dangerous to blindly obey any individual? Nicholas has given me history books to read, things we brushed over in school. The Word says to obey those in power, and yet Hitler was once in power.”

“Honoring our parents is a commandment.”

“But what is meant by the word
honor
?”

His eyes grew large. “Seriously?”

“Shouldn't we at least pray about it, be sure we're not letting others use us for their purposes while telling us it's for God's purpose?” She didn't dare confess that Quill had planted that thought in her mind.

“See, this is why I want to stay under God's authority in the Amish church. No one there would try to sabotage God's ways for personal gain.”

She barely nodded, unsure if he was right. The bishop had dealt severely with the Schlabachs, but none of the brothers had joined the faith. Why be so adamant about the sons not visiting their Mamm? Was that scriptural?

Ariana toyed with the fringe of the knit scarf. “But my immediate authority right now isn't the Amish church or my Amish parents. I'm under Nicholas.”

“Ya, and he's threatened a lawsuit and prison time for the midwife and your parents.”

“He has definitely jumbled the Word concerning the need to obey him as a parent and the lawsuit threat together, and they have to be separated and dealt with as very different issues. He was angry and upset at the beginning, offended that his daughter had been raised Amish. Now that we've bonded some, I think he may be willing to relent. At least a little. But the question is, do you agree with me about pushing back and even disobeying him at times?”

She was asking a difficult question, and she was asking him as the future head of their household. Rudy would stand a better chance of knowing his answer if they'd been taught differently. They hadn't been taught to follow their conscience. The Word and the Ordnung
were
their conscience, but what did a person do after the Ordnung had been stripped away and the Word was being used for selfish purposes?

Rudy sighed. “Let me think about that for a bit. I want you back in Summer Grove, but I'm really uncomfortable with your idea of rethinking God's will. Your Daed agreed to you coming here. It wasn't just Nicholas.”

“But there are times when God tells people to leave their families, like when God called Abraham to leave his family, despite what his father may have wanted. Jesus told a man to leave his father and follow Him.”

“Ya, but every instance I can think of is God telling a man to come away. Do you know of a time when God told a woman to leave her father or husband?”

His line of thinking didn't seem right to her. “So if two boys had been born and swapped at the Amish center that night, and if I was Abram, I could challenge Nicholas, and whatever my decision was, it would be accepted as God's leading? But since I'm me, a woman, I'm stuck keeping my mouth shut? That's a little convenient for the men, don't you think?”

“When you put it that way, it just sounds wrong, doesn't it?” He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Let's put all this talk away for now and enjoy our time.”

“Ya, I would like that.” She was ready to think about other things and have some fun.

“Maybe the answer will come to us before we part.” With her hand in his, he stood. “My driver said there's a really cool café inside a place called the Popcorn Palace. Hot drinks, deli sandwiches, scones. Care to check it out?”

“I'd like that.”

He tugged on her hand, and in the blink of an eye, they were toe-to-toe. He lifted her chin, gazed into her eyes, and kissed her again, making her feel beautiful and protected, just as it did each time their lips met.

And she prayed God would protect their relationship.

A
bram stood behind the register and glanced at the clock. Three minutes before two on a Monday. It'd been their best day yet, and business picked up on Fridays and Saturdays. Almost closing time and no one was in line, but there were still several people at various tables, finishing their lunch. Jackson had picked up a bag of wheat berries for Susie and brought it by, and he was eating the special she'd made for him as a way to say thanks.

He counted the money again, trying to get the drawer to balance with the orders they'd filled today. Sometimes it took several tries to balance the drawer. Even so, he was pleased with how well the café was doing. They were gaining customers every day, and many were becoming regulars.

A loud crash jolted everyone.

“Sorry.” Skylar knelt. Her dyed swath of black hair was growing out, leaving dirty blond roots. She kept it in a ponytail while at work, but the moment she walked out of the café, she removed the band.

Abram came out from behind the counter and saw that she'd dropped a tray of clean flatware. Jackson was getting up too.

She held up her hand. “I got it. Both of you. I'm fine.” Her hand and arm were shaking, but she lifted her eyes, and they were steely cold. “Just back off.”

Abram drew a breath and returned to the register. Man, he missed Ariana. Susie glanced out of the pass-through window from her cooking station. Their eyes met, and he saw her concern. This was the third time today Skylar had dropped something and then snapped at whoever was closest. Earlier a half-full coffeepot had slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor and spattering coffee.

Cilla and Martha were in the kitchen with Susie, cleaning and getting the place ready so everyone could go home shortly after closing. Cilla came out with an empty tray to help Skylar gather the flatware.

Abram caught her by the arm and shook his head. He nodded toward the register. “I can't get the drawer to balance. Would you mind trying?”

“Not at all.” Cilla handed him the tray and went behind the register.

He walked over to a table far away from Skylar. He had a few clues about what was going on with her. He and Susie had talked about it. Whoever Skylar was watching for had apparently not dropped by.

Abram began gathering the dirty dishes. Nearby a small group of customers rose and laughed as they headed for the door. “Great food as always.” An older man put his hand on Abram's shoulder as he passed by.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” Abram waved as the man went out the door. “Thanks for coming in.”

Where were those familiar awkward feelings? The ones that made it hard to talk to people? The café seemed to have changed everything.

Brennemans' Perks.

If Ariana had known she wasn't a Brenneman before naming the café, would she have called it something else? How would she feel about the name when she returned? He looked at the coffee makers, a timer, a scale, a grinder, a toaster, a waffle maker, and a blender for frappes and smoothies. From the coffees to the menu to the electric appliances, Brennemans' Perks hardly looked like the place Ariana had set up. How would she feel about that? He pushed those thoughts aside. There was nothing he could do about Ariana right now. But there was plenty he could do to help the café be successful.

Skylar was still on her knees, gathering the scattered flatware. When her hands were full, she dropped a load on the largest table, and then she ambled over to gather the rest.

The remaining customers, three separate tables of women, glanced at her. Some whispered. Others began collecting their things.

Abram slid his tray of dirty dishes onto a table and went to Skylar, turning his back to the customers. “You need a minute? Maybe some air?”

“No. It's just stupid flatware. I got this, okay?”

“It's not just about you, Skylar. You've rattled the customers.”

She peered around him, nodded, and drew a breath. “Hi, ladies. Sorry to be so noisy. Nothing personal. Well, not to you. I'd personally like to drop my ex-boyfriend like he's apparently dropped me. Two weeks ago we were good, and he said, ‘See you in a few days.' Now? Nothing. Nada. Zip. He hasn't called and won't even pick up when I call. I'd like to scatter his emotions across the floor like I did the flatware.”

The women reacted in a lively fashion. Some made a sad face, some clapped, some nodded. One shouted, “You go, girl.” Another said, “If you want a little help, we'd be glad to break some dishes with you.”

All of them were jovial and smiling by the time Skylar turned back to Abram. “Happy?” She scowled at him.

Sometimes she was like a gas burner on a stovetop, going from stone cold to blue flames with the turn of a knob.

He pushed a teetering utensil away from the edge of the table. “That helped, but you know all these have to be washed again, right?”

The hardness on her face made him think she'd like to spit on him, but she simply nodded.

Abram returned to his table and finished loading the tray. He couldn't figure her out. She had times of seeming to care about the café, Cilla, and the Brennemans. Today she was a hornet with a serious case of the shakes.

Jackson lifted his mug. “Hey, Abram.”

“You've made a habit of loitering,” he teased.

“I'm thinking about becoming Amish.”

Abram chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I figure I come here so often I might as well convert.”

Susie walked out of the kitchen. “Here's your money.” She passed an envelope to Jackson.

“Thanks,” Jackson said.

“Nee, Jackson.” Susie wagged her finger. “We thank you. It was very convenient to call you from the community phone.”

“Anytime. And I mean that.”

Skylar huffed, sounding offended. Jackson glanced at her. She looked as hard as if someone had carved her from a block of marble.

“Where's my envelope?” Abram asked.

“Ha!” Susie laughed. “Jackson picked up the wheat berries at the co-op for me, so now I can grind whole-wheat flour for fresh bread.” She turned her back on them. “Continue your conversation. I have things to do.”

“So…”—Jackson took a sip of his coffee—“how about you, Skylar?”

“Me what?” Skylar's tone was barely civil.

“Convert with me?”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” She sprayed a table.

Abram hoped to calm her. “He doesn't know, Skylar.”

Her steely gaze remained on the droplets of cleaner on the table. “If you want to get rid of your truck, phone, computer, and electronic and digital devices, you can give them to me. You convert.” She used the back of her wrist to push loose strands of hair away from her face. “All I want is to go back to living like a normal human again.” She rubbed the middle of her forehead, making circles.

“I imagine Ariana wants to return to living human again too,” Abram whispered.

“Maybe.” Skylar made wide sweeps with a clean cloth, wiping off the spray.

Abram pulled out a chair and sat across from Jackson. “Thanks again for offering us a ride to the doctor's office.”

Jackson nodded. “Sure. And after your initial visit and the testing, I'll be available for your appointment in January. I have the first visit marked on my calendar. With winter here and construction slowing to a crawl, I have very little work going on.”

Skylar glanced up, brow raised, but she said nothing.

“I know,” Jackson said. “You're thinking, ‘That explains a lot.' ”

“Well, I'm grateful you can take us,” Abram said.

Skylar plopped the tray on the table in front of Jackson. “Nothing better to do? How is that possible? Oh, because you get to enjoy the ambiance of the Amish café, and then you get in your truck and drive to your home with its television, computer, and Internet. I had those things once. Then the parents I grew up with were thrilled to leave me in this hellhole. Anything to get me off their hands. What a stroke of luck! I turned out not to be theirs. And the poor Brennemans, my biological family, are stuck with me and are too kind to kick me out.” She picked up the tray and slung the cutlery across the room. “How's that for honesty?” Skylar walked toward the front door.

Abram and Jackson started to follow her.

She turned. “Don't.” She pointed at each of them. “Or I promise I'll disappear the first chance I get. Me, the cash I took from the register, and the clothes on my back.”

Abram stopped cold. He didn't understand her, but he believed she was in the mood to follow through on her threat. That would break his Mamm's heart.