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Rivkah was overjoyed to see Arlana again, tenderly caressing Arlana's protruding belly.
"My first grandchild..." She murmured, the baby rewarding the gentle caress with a spirited kick.
Josiah stood back, observing the exchange before stepping forward.
"The last time we spoke, I didn't intend to come across as not caring," he lowered his voice. "Of course I am overjoyed that we are having a child," he reached for her hand, a tender look in his eyes. "Did you feel you needed to leave me because I didn't respond?"
Arlana looked away. That had only been a small part. The picture was much larger, much darker.
Josiah frowned, "Aziel needs to get to bed. We will talk more about this in the morning. You're staying in the spare bedroom tonight."
Rivkah led the way to the room Josiah had referred to, wrapping her arm around Arlana.
"It'll be okay. I'm just so glad you are back where you belong."
Arlana wasn't so sure.
****
THE NEXT MORNING, HOWEVER, Josiah didn't bring up the topic, breakfast going smoothly.
"I collected your mail for you," Rivkah broke the silence, gesturing toward the stand by the front door. The topic wasn't doing anything to diffuse the palpable tension in the room.
Josiah looked up, fixing his eyes on Arlana. What was to be done? He had a lot to deal with, the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he hadn't gone for her, would she ever have come back on her own? Did she want to be back with him? He wasn't sure.
As for Lachlan, he knew he needed to deal with the situation head-on. Lachlan was a valued journalist, but he had overstepped his place with Arlana.
A muscle in Josiah's jaw clenched. How could he trust them now? Trust her? Turn his back and she could be gone again.
Arlana helped Rivkah with the dishes, wondering what she was supposed to do. She tried to not think about Lachlan. How had he reacted? Would he come back? She didn't blame him if he kept his distance.
She dried her hands on the towel hanging from the stove unsure of anything. Josiah acted this morning as if nothing had happened - in fact, as if she had never left.
He stood at the window, staring at the melting snow with unseeing eyes.
Rivkah touched Arlana's arm, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Arlana alone with Josiah.
Arlana stepped closer to her husband, unsure where to begin. "I'm sorry..."
"Why did you leave me?" He never took his eyes off the window. He needed answers, needed to know what he had done wrong. It had to have been more than just finances that had made her flee.
There was no easy answer. She had needed the money. Had felt that he had rejected her. Where to begin? How could she ever begin to think he would forgive her now? How could she expect him to trust her again when she didn't even trust her own heart?
Josiah turned to look at Arlana, taking in her pale features & troubled, dark blue eyes. She was ripe with child, her stomach large and round, her thin dress accentuating her curves. He had missed out on a great deal of this pregnancy - had missed Arlana. If she hadn't run, they would likely have had their wedding by now. Did she know how much he needed her?
Whatever Arlana felt, she couldn't bear to see the sorrow in his eyes.
"Here's the key to your farm," he reached into his pocket, placing it in her hand before turning back to the window, "I took care of it in your absence."
Unspoken words hung between them. A simple "thank you" just wouldn't cut it, Arlana was certain.
Sighing deeply, unable to look Josiah in the eye, Arlana clutched the key in her hand, walking toward the door. "Rivkah, I am heading home."
"So soon?" Rivkah stood, Aziel at her side.
Arlana nodded. "It's for the best."
Rivkah stood in the door as Arlana reached for her mail, then shut the door behind her and Aziel, the screen door whining in protest.
****
JAIRA WAS ALONE. COMPLETELY alone. Shunned by her inlaws and neighbours spread much too far apart, it had been her cross to bear. Until recently. Now, she had Adelaide on her side, a church in theory, although only through her phone, and church sisters who quickly replaced Arlana. The sky looked bluer than it ever had, the grass a thousand times greener. How could she possibly describe a re-birth? A second chance? God's grace to a miserable wretch? She lay prostrate on the floor, seeking God's face, the yapping of her chihuahua a distraction.
"Why do you always have to interrupt? I don't have much time left before William returns!" She tossed a squeaky toy across the floor, trying to continue where she had left off. Finally getting back into her previous train of thought, the teething puppy nipped at her toes.
"Seriously?" Jaira sat up again, "If you don't give it a break, you do remember you have a kennel? Can I just have one hour of peace to pray?!"
Thirty minutes later, Jaira gave up, sitting on the couch, laptop perched on her knees. Her puppy attempted in vain to find a comfortable spot, then, at last, curled up on her hands, as if they weren't important when using the computer. Jaira couldn't help but smile. The four-legged creature couldn't possibly replace her kids but it filled that gnawing ache in her heart as much as any dog could.
No messages from Adelaide. She was probably busy teaching her kids. No other messages. Sarah was too busy being a pastor's wife. Everyone was busy. She opened a new tab, typing in The Resistance website. She had subscribed for years, following the stories online. It was something she and Adelaide also shared in common. Arlana had never cared, choosing to ignore what was blatantly obvious - the fact that the end was approaching. The Tribulation was coming and they needed to prepare. Well, you can only warn people, you can't force them to get ready.
Jaira skimmed the newest articles. She would share them with Adelaide and Gavin after. They weren't big readers, so she'd help by condensing the information. Migrants. Oh, she knew all about that. The RCMP was seen in her town more than ever. It didn't help that she lived right on the border.
She glanced at the picture of a small, dark-skinned boy clutching a rabbit stuffed toy that looked like it had seen better days. Haunting brown eyes peered from the computer screen, causing Jaira to pause. Below the picture the words in small print, Photo Credit: Arlana Commelot.
Jaira nearly dropped her laptop, jumping up. She searched for a pad of paper and a pen, instantly scribbling a ten-page letter, front and back.
"Dear Arlana,
I just saw your picture in The Resistance! You can imagine how surprised I am - I never thought you'd care about such things, let alone participate! God is so good to us and I'm glad He has opened your eyes to see the truth. You seem to be doing well now."
Jaira chewed the tip of her pen before continuing, reaching for her Bible and Matthew Henry's commentary.
She wrote fast, ink spilling onto the paper, struggling to keep up with her mind as she shared Scriptures and commentary quotes, trying to put her newfound joy into words. It had been too long since the sisters had talked, yet unlike the usual gossip and foolish talk they'd written to each other over the years, each line was filled with thoughts of Heaven and Scripture.
Jaira reread her letter, grinning when she realized it was almost as long as an epistle and she had only scratched the surface. Slipping a leash onto her dog, she walked across the street, popping it into the mailbox a moment before she flicked the flag up - outgoing mail.
The mailman delivered the letter a week later where it sat in a forgotten mailbox for months, Arlana was long gone.
****
THEY WALKED TOGETHER down the familiar path leading to her farm. It didn't feel like hers. Not anymore. She had been away longer than she lived there. Sliding the key into the lock, they stepped into the darkness. Everything was exactly as she had left it.
"My Lego is still here," Aziel called over his shoulder as he searched his room for toys he had left behind.
Arlana sat on the couch, sinking into the soft foam. Everything was the same, except her.
Flipping through junk mail she instantly recognized Jaira's scrawling, cursive writing. Just beneath was another letter, this one from her mother. Arlana's smile faded instantly. She opened Jaira's first, reading the first line.
Each line of the letter was filled with Scripture and read more like a sermon than the letters she had read from Jaira in the past. There was nothing personal in the letter and definitely no apology for the way things had ended between them. In fact, she didn't mention the funeral or the fact she was trying to get custody of her children. She did, however, mention Adelaide in glowing terms. It was clear they had made amends and formed a new bond.
Arlana wasn't jealous, just surprised. In fact, she thought it was a joke the first time she read through the letter, but by the second time, she realized this was the new and improved Jaira. The 2.0 if you will. She tossed the letter onto the coffee table. How Jaira had gotten over everything so quickly was mind baffling. Maybe this was her escape mechanism? Pretending nothing had happened? That she could understand. This new, preachy sister, she could not.
Overwhelmed, she placed her mother's letter onto the coffee table as well, unopened. She couldn't bear to read it - not now.
Arlana, once again, made a huge mistake.
****
ARLANA PUSHED HER SISTER'S letter from her mind sinking down in the warm bathwater. Aziel was thrilled to be playing with his old Lego, giving her a little time on her own to prepare for the day. Back home, she knew her chores wouldn't wait but needed just a little bit of time to sort through her thoughts. The bathwater had not yet turned chill when she stepped out of the bathtub, slipping a pale, off-white dress over her shoulders, fastening the pearl buttons down the front. Reaching for a brush she went to work on her hair, braiding the damp locks. It was amazing what a few months away from Jorken could do. Her hair was thicker, a healthy lustre where not long before had been limp, spider web fine hair. Arlana set the brush down, wishing she had the courage to leave long before - the faith to step out into the unknown.
Absentmindedly, Arlana sprinkled flour on the freshly scrubbed kitchen table, then placed a roll of dough in the center of a mound of the white powder. Soft dough squashed beneath her knuckles as she worked quickly. She'd been away far too long. How did she think she would get everything done in time when she only had a little over a week? Unprepared was an understatement, she realized. Leaving the bread to rise in covered pans, Arlana climbed the rungs of the ladder to the loft, refusing to look down.
Heights made her stomach flip. She cleaned out every nook and cranny, setting up the area for Aziel. A polished, hand-carved wooden ladder would give him easy access to his new bedroom. Stacking boxes to the side, she bent to pick up a faded envelope that had dropped to the ground when she moved a hatbox thick with dust and faded with time. Slipping the envelope into her pocket, she grasped the edges of the ladder with white knuckles, her protruding womb making it impossible to see her footing.