Yvonne stared straight ahead as her aunt drove them to the airport. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
Aunt Emma glanced at her. “Honey, I would have never let you make the trip home alone. And I took the liberty of calling the rental company. I explained the situation, and they will send someone to pick up the SUV you rented.”
Yvonne nodded. “I’m dreading having to face Trevor’s parents.” The nausea she’d had all morning was getting worse. She wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t eaten anything or if all of her emotions had gotten together and landed in her stomach. She didn’t think she had any more tears to shed.
“They aren’t the warmest people, but I’m sure they are devastated.” Her aunt paused. “I can’t even imagine if something happened to you.”
Yvonne’s aunt and uncle had never had any children of their own, and Yvonne knew they’d always thought of her as their daughter.
“The Amish people seemed nice. I’ve never met anyone Amish before.” Her aunt stopped when the light turned red, and she turned to Yvonne. “The young woman, Eva? It appeared you two might have become close.”
“I guess. As close as you can be to someone in such a short time. She’s a sweet girl.” Yvonne was already starting to miss the smell of homemade bread baking at the Gasthof Restaurant and at Eva’s house this morning. But it was a passing thought that only led her back to Trevor, the way everything did. “I think we will probably write to each other.”
Her aunt accelerated when the light turned green. There was a long stretch of highway back to the airport, then a two-hour plane ride, then an hour’s drive home. She was exhausted thinking about it, and it was surely worse for her aunt, who had just made the trip here from Houston.
“So, no deal on the book?”
Yvonne had told her aunt during one of their phone conversations that Jake wouldn’t sell. “No. But . . .” She recalled how serious Jake had been in the barn. “He actually tried to give me the book before I left.”
“What?” Aunt Emma sounded as stunned as Yvonne had felt when Jake made the offer.
“I know. It was crazy. I think maybe he thought I had financial problems now, but he also said he had a dream about his deceased grandfather and felt he was supposed to give me the book.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t take it?”
“No. I couldn’t accept a gift worth that much money from most people, much less a good-hearted Amish man who made a promise to his grandfather never to sell the book.”
“Hmm . . . a slightly different attitude than when you arrived there, determined to get Mr. Lantz to sell.” Her aunt brushed at a gray strand of hair that had come loose from the clip-on messy bun she wore. Aunt Emma had gorgeous silver hair, but over the years it had begun to thin. Yvonne could only hope to look so good at her aunt’s age. The woman still exercised and ate right, and Yvonne couldn’t remember her ever missing an evening of slathering on night cream before bed. Her efforts had paid off. She was still a striking woman at sixty-five. And alone, despite several widowers who had pursued her.
“I guess my attitude did change a little. Money isn’t everything.” Yvonne could feel the tears welling in her eyes again.
“No, it’s not. And speaking of . . . have you heard from George?”
Yvonne shook her head as she bit her bottom lip, blinking back tears.
“I’m sure he knows.” The lines on her aunt’s forehead deepened. “It’s been on television. I’ve seen it on several news channels. Small jets don’t go down often, but I think that one of the men was semifamous. He was a minister for a large church in Houston, one of those that does online services.”
Yvonne knew better than to get into a conversation about religion with her aunt. Even though the woman had been supportive when Yvonne sought out answers on her own related to God, Yvonne was sure her aunt would say things that would unintentionally hurt her right now.
“What did it look like, what they showed on the news?” Yvonne squeezed her eyes closed, unsure if she wanted to know, but something deep inside of her needed to know.
“It’s under investigation. They think it was an error on the pilot’s part, but they didn’t elaborate.”
Her chest ached, but she pushed on. “I mean, what did it look like? The crash site.”
After sighing, her aunt said, “Total devastation. I can’t imagine that anyone suffered, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Yvonne wasn’t sure when the tears had begun spilling down her cheeks. “I wonder if Trevor knew what was happening, if he was scared.”
“Honey, try not to do that to yourself. I know you have unanswered questions, and maybe after the investigation you’ll know more. But there are some things you might not ever know.”
She was quiet as she wondered if she was the last person Trevor had thought about as the plane went down. If she didn’t rid herself of these thoughts, they would continue to eat at her like torture, but she didn’t know how to stop the questions from invading her mind.
“Do you want to stay with me for a few days, at least until after the funeral?”
Yvonne shook her head. “No. I just want to be home.”
“Okay.”
They rode the rest of the way mostly in silence. Yvonne replayed in her mind the day she’d met Trevor, the day he proposed, the conversations they’d had about the wedding, and everything in between. At the heart of it all was the reality that she would never see him again.
Somewhere along the drive she fell asleep and woke up when her aunt nudged her to say they were taking the exit to the airport. Yvonne went through the motions as they returned the rental car, then went through security—a longer than usual experience since Yvonne didn’t have her driver’s license. But they got through, and her aunt had booked them first-class tickets home.
The plane hadn’t even taken off when Yvonne closed her eyes in an effort to go back to sleep. It was the only time she didn’t have to think about the new reality she was facing. Life without Trevor. But as badly as she wanted to escape her grief, a whirlwind of thoughts assaulted her attempts to sleep. Again she wondered, had Trevor known what was coming? Had he watched in horror as the plane plummeted to the ground? Or had it happened too fast for anyone to fully embrace the panic that would cause? There were no final texts from Trevor, so she was going to believe the crash had been instantaneous.
Despite her effort to reconcile the ordeal and accept the possible outcome, she started to shake uncontrollably. Statistically, she knew her chances of dying in a car accident were greater than a plane crash. Even so, when the engine on the jet began firing to capacity, she covered her ears with her hands and cried. Her aunt quickly had an arm around her.
Will it always be this way?
Not just with plane rides. With everything?
* * *
Jake needed to talk to Eva about the book and why they couldn’t read it together, but they’d had a steady flow of customers all afternoon. He’d turned over the counter to her after he’d checked out a group of English ladies who had bought a lot of books and gifts. Eva was much faster at checking people out.
Jake could recall a time, not all that long ago, when most of his customers were locals. Montgomery was drawing in more and more tourists. He had mixed feelings about that. It was good for the economy, but he didn’t want to see their community become too touristy.
It was late afternoon by the time he was able to pin down Eva. He knew she was mad at him since he had smelled chicken and dumplings warming around lunchtime and she hadn’t offered him any the way she normally would have. But he owed her the truth, and the sooner he talked to her, the better he would feel.
After he’d shelved the last of the books that had come in, he went to the counter where she was sitting.
“Can I talk to you?” He hesitantly approached her, taking slow steps and avoiding her piercing glare. Jake wasn’t sure how much of her anger was directed at him for not wanting to read the book together and how much because he didn’t know how to take their relationship to the next level. Maybe if he was honest on all fronts, they could work through things together. Jake loved Eva, he now knew, but he didn’t want to behave dishonorably since he knew how John felt about her.
“Actually, there is something I need to ask you.” She stood up, her purse on the counter in front of her as if she was ready to walk out the door.
Jake glanced at the clock on the wall. He hadn’t realized it was already five o’clock, the time they normally closed. He’d let her go first. “What do you need to ask me?”
“If it’s not too much of an inconvenience, I would like to leave at four o’clock tomorrow.” Her chin was raised higher than normal, and she wore an expression that dared Jake to deny the request.
“Ya, sure.” Eva rarely took off work, and it was usually something important. “Is everything okay? I mean, doctor’s appointment or something?”
“Nee, not a doctor’s appointment.” Her voice was curt but not disrespectful.
He waited for her to tell him the reason. When she didn’t, he asked, “Can I ask what for?”
“It’s only an hour early. If it’s a problem, just tell me.” She raised both eyebrows and gave him the thin-lipped smile again.
“Nee, it’s not a problem. I just worry about you and wanted to make sure you aren’t sick.”
“I’m not sick. I have a date, and I would like to have time to get home and get ready.” Her fake smile widened, and Jake felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
“Can I ask with who?” It wasn’t any of his business, but he couldn’t harness his curiosity.
She picked up her purse. “John Yoder.” Then she wound around the counter. “The money is in the bag in the usual place.” She was headed to the door but stopped in front of him. “Ach, I almost forgot. What did you want to talk to me about?”
It had finally happened. John had stepped up to the plate and asked Eva out. And she had accepted. Jake had done the honorable thing by waiting to see if John would make his move, and now his insides were twisting into knots. He was tempted to beg her not to go and to disregard any sense of nobility or honor.
“Uh . . .” Jake rubbed his forehead as he stared at Eva.
“You said you needed to talk to me?” She put a hand on her hip.
“It wasn’t important. I’ll see you tomorrow.” It wasn’t only unimportant. It had just become irrelevant.
“Ya, okay. Bye.” She smiled, a bit more genuine this time, and left.
Jake stood as his chest tightened. He’d probably let the best woman in the world get away because he wanted to be honorable—a word and emotion he was beginning to loathe. Maybe he’d always thought Eva would turn down any advances from John. But she hadn’t, and the thought of her finally dating the man stung more than he had expected it would.
Despite his despair, he said a prayer for Yvonne, that she’d arrive home safely and that the Lord would help her to heal. At least Eva was alive. Jake might have blown his chance to have her in his life as more than a friend, but when he thought about Yvonne and what she was going through, he tried to keep things in perspective.
He made the rounds to get the store closed up, but visions of Eva and John together took his emotions hostage.
* * *
Yvonne dropped her suitcase just inside the front door of her house. She’d said her goodbyes to her aunt outside, insisting she was okay when her aunt offered to stay with her awhile. She just wanted to bask in her misery by herself, to cry the way you did when you didn’t want people to see.
As she stood in her entryway, she eyed her outdated pastel décor and thought about how nervous she’d been to sell her house. She’d burn it to the ground if she could have one more day with Trevor. Her things were just that—things.
She twisted her engagement ring around her finger as she shuffled through her house, stopping to pick up a framed photo of her and Trevor taking a selfie at Mustang Island. She pressed it to her chest as the tears came on again, clutching it as she continued to her bedroom. More framed photos on her dresser. Both of them dolled up for a night on the town in her favorite red dress that she would never wear again. A formal engagement picture they’d had taken in front of a fountain in downtown Houston. And a photo of Trevor down on one knee when he proposed. The waiter had done an exceptional job capturing the moment, the prelude to an event that would now never happen.
She tossed the picture onto her pillow and threw herself facedown on the bed and sobbed. God, give me one more minute with him. Please. Just let me look at him again. I’ll do anything. Let me hear his voice.
She bolted upright, then scurried to her purse, which was on the floor by her suitcase. After she found her phone, she slogged back to her bed and pulled up her voice mails. She never deleted anything. Trevor might not have had any last words for her, but there were probably at least a hundred voice mails. She turned the phone on speaker and listened to the first one that came up.
Hello, beautiful. Just letting you know that I’m leaving the office early today if you want to pay me a surprise visit.
She went to the next one.
There’s a cat in my garage. A big orange cat. Laughter. I don’t need a cat. But I gave it some tuna, and now she’s rubbing up against my leg. I guess I have a cat. Come see when you get the message. Laughter again.
It took her a minute to realize she was smiling.
She lay back on her bed with the phone next to her, and for the next hour she listened to Trevor’s messages. At some point, exhaustion won, and she fell asleep. When she woke up in total darkness, she reached for her phone and listened to another voice mail.
Hello, beautiful, I love you, babe. You’re my everything, and I can’t wait until we’re married.
She pressed End, then saw that she had new voice mails and missed calls from Trevor’s parents, her bridesmaids, George, the caterer—who might not even know yet—and two solicitors. The most recent call was from her aunt.
Honey, please call me. I know it’s late, but I’m worried about you.
Yvonne looked at the clock. It wasn’t that late, only eleven. Her aunt never went to bed before midnight, so she called and assured her that she was okay. A lie. Then she forced herself to get off the bed and go to the bathroom. From there she retrieved her suitcase and hauled it to her bed. She opened the side pocket where her toiletries were stowed, unpacked them, and mechanically took a shower. Even the water hitting her body felt different. The texture of her hair wasn’t the same. And when she looked at herself in the mirror after she had towel dried, she didn’t recognize herself. Maybe she was in shock. Perhaps nothing would ever look the same again.
Wrapped only in her towel with her damp, untamed hair lying on her shoulders, she sat on her bed. She thought about Jake Lantz. He’d said his grandfather had visited him in his dream. Why hadn’t Trevor come to her in a dream? Would he ever? Could that be the only way she’d ever see him again? She rarely remembered her dreams, but she would beg God to have a vision of Trevor. Maybe God would deny her that blessing since she didn’t believe that Trevor was in heaven. Maybe only those who believed were allowed visions of deceased loved ones. Even though she had dreamed about her parents after they’d died so long ago. She briefly thought about how she could trick God into seeing her as a believer in an afterlife. But there was no tricking God.
As her mind rushed through a broad range of emotions, resentment found its way into her heart. She couldn’t have loved her aunt and uncle more if they had been her parents. For all practical purposes, they had been. But what if she had been raised differently or by someone else who believed in an afterlife? She would have grown up that way, believing in the promise of eternal life, that she would see Trevor again. Her longing to believe was stronger than it had ever been, but there was no science to back up any of it, just as her aunt and uncle had taught her. It was too late to shift her way of thinking, wrong to force a belief because she wanted it to be true.
She dressed for bed, then opened the cabinet where she kept her blow dryer before remembering it was still in her suitcase. Most hotels had driers these days, but Yvonne preferred her own and always traveled with it.
After she walked to her bed, she just sat with her wet hair and cried. Why was it taking so long to do the simplest of tasks?
When her phone rang, she sniffled, peeked at the number, and knew she wasn’t up for George right now. She was surprised he was calling so late. She hit End and lay down, uncaring that her pillow would be wet from her hair. It would be just as damp from tears by morning. After lying there awhile, unable to sleep—maybe because the light was on or her hair was wet—she sat up. And prayed.
Dear God, I need You. I don’t feel like I can get through this on my own. If there is any chance there is a heaven, can You please infuse that belief into my mind? Can You please let me see Trevor in my dreams? Can You please show me how to function like a normal person again? Amen.
It sounded futile even in her mind. Maybe if she dried her hair, snuggled up in her covers, and turned off the light, sleep would find her. Perhaps Trevor would find her in her dreams.
She was getting ready to unzip her suitcase to find her blow dryer. But something else caught her attention. The side pocket of her suitcase was bulging, and she didn’t remember putting anything in that compartment. She unzipped it, surprised she hadn’t noticed until now. Then she gasped.
There it was. The book. Walk with Me by Jerry Lance.