Simple Choices (3 page)

Even though Harmony’s only restaurant retained Mary Whit-tenbauer’s name, Mary had departed our small town months ago. Her secret dealings with a shady real estate agent who’d wanted to build a resort and casino near Harmony had been exposed, along with her involvement in a grisly murder. After testifying against the agent and being granted immunity, Mary left the state. No one knew where she was now. Her former cook, Hector Ramirez, currently ran the restaurant, along with his wife, Carmen.

“Sounds good,” I said, “but after we eat I need to go home and get things prepared for my family’s visit.”

“Need help?”

I grinned. “I’m not blind, you know. Even though I wasn’t home long, it was obvious little elves had been cleaning the house and stocking my fridge.”

Sam held his hands up. “I am guilty only by association. Sweetie knew you wouldn’t have much time to shop and dragged me to the store in Council Grove. And you know I don’t clean, but I do follow my aunt’s orders. She even forced me to move furniture so she could sweep under it. I really doubt you’ll find much to do tomorrow.”

I leaned over and kissed him. “Good thing I don’t have privacy issues, huh?”

He chuckled. “You’ve got that right. It will only get worse when you move in here.”

I laid my head on his chest. “I love this place—and you. And believe it or not, I’m just crazy about Sweetie. You know, if you ever want me to cook for you, I need to get back to those lessons Sarah and I started with Sweetie before I left.”

“I think Sarah’s passed you by. She never missed a lesson while you were gone. In fact, she’s already graduated to frying chicken and baking apple cobbler.” He rubbed his stomach. “I got to be the guinea pig. Tough job.”

“Poor baby. I feel for you.”

He sighed dramatically. “I know. It’s a burden I must bear with bravery.”

I laughed at the silly look on his face. “Can you forget food for a moment? Let’s get back to Sarah. How’s she doing?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’m a guy. We’re not very good at figuring out how women feel.”

I reached up and brushed a lock of sandy-blond hair from his eyes. “You’re one of the most sensitive, insightful people I’ve ever known. Even if you are male.”

“Thanks, I think.” His expression turned serious. “To be honest with you, I think Sarah’s in a lot of pain. She and John have kept their word and stayed away from each other. But there’s this deep sadness in their eyes.” He stared at me for several seconds before continuing. “You know, if I ever lost you, I believe I’d look exactly the same way.”

I kissed him softly. “You won’t ever lose me, you know. In a few days, I’ll be yours forever.”

He wrapped his tanned, muscled arms around me. “I thought you already were mine forever.”

We kissed again, and then I pushed him gently away. “If you keep that up, I’ll never get home.”

“Fine by me.”

“Now I know it’s time to go.” I got into my bright-yellow Volkswagen Bug and started the engine. Sam motioned to me to roll down my window.

“I thought you were going to sell this car while you were in Wichita,” he said frowning.

“I tried, but I couldn’t find anything else I wanted to buy.”

“In all of Wichita there wasn’t one other car you liked? I find that hard to swallow.”

“Well, you can believe what you want. If I have to get rid of my slug bug, I want a car with personality.”

Sam pointed to his ancient truck, held together more by rust than metal. “You mean like that?”

“Definitely not the kind of personality I’m going for. No decent hillbilly would be caught dead driving that poor thing. Thanks anyway.”

“Are you calling me an indecent hillbilly?”

I shrugged. “If the truck fits …”

“You just don’t appreciate the kind of character brought about by use and age,” he sniffed, trying to look offended.

I nodded. “You must be right ‘cause I think that sorry excuse for transportation should be put out of its misery.”

“Women just don’t understand a man and his truck.”

“Thank God for that.”

He gave me his most pitiful look, which made me giggle. “And here I broke down and bought something new just to make you happy. You haven’t said one word about it.”

I gazed at the big, beautiful red truck parked in the circular driveway. His decaying, beaten-up model had been pulled up next to the barn as if it had been relegated to second place. “I apologize. I truly applaud you, but why keep the old one?”

“Because contrary to the theory that male members of society have no real feelings, I’m emotionally attached to it.”

I gave him a big smile. “Well, you’re emotionally attached to me, too. But if you ever test-drive a newer model, you’ll end up in worse condition than that aged rattletrap.”

He stuck his head into my window and kissed me soundly. “You have nothing to worry about. I’d rather stick with my old, comfortable model. The new versions with all the bells and whistles scare me.”

I slapped his arm. “I’m not sure what that means, but I’m pretty sure I don’t like it.”

He stood up and pointed toward the road. “Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“If you’re lucky.” I put the car into gear and started down the driveway.

“I love you, Grace,” Sam hollered as I headed toward Faith Road.

“I love you, too!” I yelled back.

Getting to my house from Sam’s didn’t take long. We live a little less than a mile from each other. As I drove, my mind drifted back to our conversation about Sarah Ketterling and John Keystone. They were certainly star-crossed lovers, separated by differences in their faiths. Although I understood the reasons they chose to deny their feelings, my heart ached for them.

I pulled into the driveway of my cute yellow house. When I’d left, my grandmother’s purple irises were in full bloom. But now, in the heat of summer, only green stalks remained. Knowing that I’d missed so much of their flowering beauty made me sad. Mama’s irises were a special love we’d shared. “Irises represent faith, hope, and wisdom, Gracie,” she’d tell me as she worked in the garden at her home in Nebraska. “They remind me of God’s faithfulness. Through faith and hope we inherit His promises, and through His Word and His wonderful Holy Spirit, He gives us wisdom we could never gain from human knowledge. These purple irises also signify royalty. Someday our heavenly Father will put crowns on our heads because we are children of the King.”

I could still hear her as she talked about her beloved flowers and the God she loved more than anything else. Even though she’d been happy in Fairbury, I knew she missed her irises in Harmony. How I wished she could have come back before she died to see them still growing. They were a reminder to me of her faith in God and her love for me. I felt blessed to tend them for her all these years later.

Thankfully, under the illumination of the yard light, I could see that the marigolds Sam had planted by the front porch were thriving. At least I would be able to enjoy them for a while. I was grateful for the light so I could find my way to my front porch. In the country, where there are no streetlights, on cloudy nights it can get so dark it’s actually impossible to see your hand in front of your face.

I got out of the car and hurried inside. My suitcases still sat inside the door where I’d dropped them. I dragged the biggest one toward the kitchen, opened it up, and removed a plastic bag full of dirty clothes. A visit to the basement and a few minutes later, the washer was churning away. I’d put the wet clothes in the dryer tomorrow morning. Right now I needed a good night’s sleep. I couldn’t help but smile at the wringer washer Mama Essie had used to wash her clothes, sitting in the corner of the basement. When I first arrived in Harmony, it was all I had. Thankfully, when I was a child, Mama had taught me how to use the old-style washer. Even after leaving Harmony and her Old Order ways, she’d preferred the wringer washer to the “newfangled” machines.

As I trudged up the stairs, I was surprised to hear someone knocking on my door. I glanced at my watch as I hurried to find out who would visit this late. A little after nine o’clock. Normal in Wichita but really unusual in Harmony where the sidewalks are rolled up around seven.

I pulled the door open and found Pastor Abel Mueller standing on my porch, his face beet red. Before I could say anything, he blurted out, “Gracie Temple, why in heaven’s name are you trying to destroy my family?”

A
bel was halfway through his second cup of cold cider before his color began to return to normal. I grasped my hands to keep them from shaking. I’d never seen the gentle Mennonite minister so upset. And he’d certainly never been this angry with me before. It hurt me deeply to think I was the cause of his distress.

“So you do understand,” I said for the third time. “I had no idea until the lessons were almost over that Hannah felt like this. By then it was too late.”

Abel set his cup down on the table next to the couch. “I’m trying, Gracie,” he said. He shook his shaggy head, and his beard quivered. “But Emily is devastated. She and Hannah have always been so close. Now it’s like we don’t even know our own daughter.”

I stared down at the floor. “I’m so sorry, Abel. I wish now I’d never taken her to Wichita. I was just trying to help.”

“Somewhere inside I know that, Gracie. But right now my father’s heart is breaking. Hannah has never been this rebellious toward us. Before I left to come over here, I had to send her to her room for yelling at her mother. She insists we let her live with that art teacher and go to school in Wichita. But we can’t do that. It’s our job to raise our daughter—not anyone else’s. Besides, if this is how she acts after being in the big city for six weeks, what would happen to her if she lived there during an entire school year?”

“I don’t know,” I said, raising my head to meet his eyes. “To be honest, I planned to encourage you to let her go.”

Abel started to sputter, but I held my hand up to stop him. “Let me finish. Jim really could do wonderful things for her. I’m confident she could get into a good art school or college—probably with a full scholarship. But with the way she’s responded to being away from home, I can’t recommend it now.”

“Well, thank goodness,” Abel said. “Maybe knowing that you’ve changed your mind will help to convince Hannah it’s the wrong move. As far as college, she will have to make her own decision after she graduates high school. Most folks in our church believe a young woman should get married and settle down after school is over. And that’s liberal compared to the old beliefs that eighth grade was far enough for any young person—especially the girls.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But things change, and I have come to believe that I must allow her to choose her own way in life even if it isn’t the one I want for her. God isn’t asking us to follow His path because we have to. He desires His children to pursue His will because we want to.” His eyes sought mine. “But in this situation, I must wonder if I should have been stricter. Two of our elders came to me before Hannah left. They both felt I was making a mistake, and I dismissed their concerns. But now …”

He rubbed the back of his neck as if trying to relieve stress or pain. “When you first came to Harmony, you challenged me about our beliefs. Perhaps now you see why we live a separated life. Hannah leaves our church and our town for a few weeks, and she brings back the rebellion and disrespect rampant in the world outside our borders.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Abel. But there are many, many good Christian people living in big cities who still keep Christ as the center of their lives. I love Harmony, too, but this place isn’t a panacea against evil. The people who live here have chosen to live a certain kind of life, and that’s fine. But Hannah made a choice, too—one that none of us saw coming. The problem isn’t Wichita …” I hesitated to complete my sentence, so Abel finished it for me.

“It’s Hannah,” he said, his words slow and methodical. He clasped his hands together. “But still, if she hadn’t left our protection …”

“The problem would still be in her heart. There is something she longs for, Abel. Something she hasn’t found here.”

His face flushed and his jaw tightened. “Her art. One of the elders also cautioned me about this—this talent of hers. He said Hannah’s interests could lead to vanity and self-involvement. I didn’t pay any attention to him. It seemed silly and old-fashioned. Maybe I’ve been foolish …”

“But Abel, if that were true, why would God give her such a wonderful gift? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“But why would He give her something she can’t handle? Something that would lead her away from Him and her family?”

I reached over and covered his hand with mine. “That hasn’t happened. Hannah is acting out a bit, that’s all. I think you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. “Maybe. I know some children rebel during their teenage years. I’ve certainly counseled many families in crisis. I just never thought Hannah would—”

“Be a teenager?” I smiled at him. “I think the best thing we can do is to let her work this out in her own mind. It could all blow over in a week or two. Hannah loves you and Emily. And Harmony is the only home she’s ever known.”

He nodded and patted my hand before pulling his away. “I believe it’s wise to put the subject of her future on hold for now. We’ve told Hannah we expect her to adjust her behavior. As you say, perhaps she will settle down now that she’s home. If God has a different plan for her life from what Emily and I would choose, we won’t stand in His way. But right now, it’s Hannah’s heart that concerns me most.”

Although I firmly believe God has a plan for everyone’s life, I’m also aware that He doesn’t force our steps. We all have the right and ability to pick a different direction—the one that isn’t God’s will for us. I prayed that wouldn’t happen to Hannah.

I’d thought about mentioning Hannah’s wardrobe malfunction in Wichita, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. What would it help? The knowledge that she’d rejected her simple clothing for jeans and a T-shirt wouldn’t give Abel and Emily additional peace of mind. They had enough to deal with now.