NAAMAN CHUCKLED AFTER ROSEMARY AND FREDA WERE back in the house. “You sure played that up, Levina.”
“It was great fun to watch their expressions.” Levina smiled. “Shame on us.” She sighed. “I hope our children will always be as happy with their spouses as we are at this very moment.”
“I pray for that too.”
“When are you going to talk to Adam? It looks like the last of the guests are leaving, except for our immediate family.”
“I’d rather go home and snuggle up with you.”
“I thought we were going to fly a kite.”
Naaman dabbed his tongue to his first finger, then held it up. “Wind is dying down. I think snuggling sounds better.”
“Talk to Adam. Make things right, and see if you can find out what is going on with him.” Levina grinned. “Then home to snuggle.”
Naaman couldn’t remember the last time he felt this content, but the situation with Adam lingered like a dark cloud above them. Naaman needed to talk to him, but he had little hope that Adam would give him the time of day just yet. Pushing him might be the wrong thing to do. But Levina sure did seem worried about him, for reasons that seemed to have nothing to do with Naaman.
Naaman crossed the yard and met Adam and Hannah. “It was a gut service today.”
Adam nodded but didn’t make eye contact with his father.
“So glad you’re here, Naaman.” Hannah gave Naaman a hug, and over her shoulder Naaman could see Adam scowl.
“Danki, Hannah.” He eased out of the hug. “Would you mind if I talk to Adam for a few minutes?”
“Of course not.” Hannah smiled, but before she even walked away, Adam spoke up.
“We don’t have anything to talk about.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“Maybe no, maybe yes.” Naaman held his position as he looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders.
Hannah stepped toward Adam, and Naaman saw tears in her eyes. “Talk to your father, Adam.”
“This is not your business, Hannah.”
Naaman was shocked by the way Adam spoke to his wife, and as Hannah’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, Naaman was wishing Adam was still of the age to be taken behind the woodshed for a good spanking.
“Please, Adam.” Hannah dabbed at her eyes. “Your father is a wise man. Whatever is bothering you, or if you’re angry at him— or me—or . . . I just don’t know, but maybe you should talk to him.”
“It’s all right, Hannah. I’m sure Adam will come to me when he’s ready.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “It might be too late by then,” she said as she turned and ran back toward the house.
“Adam?” Naaman took a few steps closer, but Adam clenched his jaw tight and stared at the ground. “I know you are angry with me, and I don’t blame you. I also know that there is something else going on with you. Your mother senses this, and I can see it now too.” Naaman paused with a sigh. “I am here for you if you want to talk to me.”
When Adam didn’t move, Naaman reluctantly turned to go find Levina, but the sound of his son’s voice caused him to turn back around.
“Must be nice to leave all responsibility for a year-long vacation, no?”
Naaman walked back to his son. “Is that what you think it was—a vacation?”
“Ya. That’s exactly what it was.”
“I should not have left, Adam. I regret it.”
“But you did it, just the same.”
“Ya. I did.”
They stood quietly for a few moments. Naaman could see his son’s bottom lip trembling.
“Don’t you think we’d all like to do what you did? Just leave?” Adam glared at his father with such loathing that Naaman was tempted to walk away, but now he saw the deeper issue.
Beneath the outpouring of anger, Naaman could see the pain his son was in. Now how was he going to explain to Adam that his feelings are normal but that they should not be acted on as Naaman had done? He chose his words carefully.
“Is that what you want to do, Adam? Leave your family?”
“Of course not. I would never abandon Hannah and the kinner.”
Naaman studied him for a moment. “Let’s go for a walk, Adam.”
Adam grunted. “I’m not going on a walk with you.”
Naaman looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders. “Ya, you are. Let’s go.” He hoped the firmness of his tone would coax his son to remember that Naaman was still his father.
Naaman set off, and slowly Adam joined his side. Neither of them spoke until they reached the barbed-wire fence separating the cows from the yard. Adam put a foot on the bottom wire and pushed it back and forth as he stared at the ground. Naaman rested an elbow atop a fence post and waited.
“I–I would never leave my family.”
Adam’s words stung Naaman, even though he was glad Adam repeated his earlier comment.
“But—I think about what it would be like, to go into the world, to see things, and not have responsibilities. Like you did.” He narrowed his eyes at Naaman.
“I regret what I did, Adam.” Naaman sighed. “I ask the Lord’s forgiveness every day, and I try not to question how my leaving could have been His will.” Naaman paused. He knew he must speak candidly. “Your mother and I spent most of our years raising you kinner, and once you were all gone, it felt—lonely. I didn’t really know your mother anymore. We were just two people sharing meals. That’s how it seemed anyway. But, Adam . . . leaving was not the answer. And I didn’t leave to go see the world.” He raised his brows. “I had an active rumschpringe, and I saw all I needed to. If that were what I’d been seeking, I wouldn’t have gone to Levi’s home in Ohio. I just felt like I needed to be alone.”
“You weren’t alone there, Daed. Levi and his family were there.”
“No, I wasn’t alone. There were people around me, but a man can be alone in his heart if he chooses. And for reasons I didn’t even understand, I chose to be alone.”
“Why did you come back?”
“I missed your mother and all of you.” Naaman shrugged. “No amount of distance was going to cure the mixed-up feelings I had. I knew I needed to come back and face my fears.”
Adam stopped popping the barbed wire back and forth with his foot, and for the first time he looked directly at his father. “What kind of fears?”
Naaman wished he didn’t have to have this awkward conversation with his son, but if it helped Adam not to make the same mistake, it would be worth it.
Please, Lord, help me to help Adam through my mistakes and experiences.
At that moment Naaman speculated whether or not his leaving could have been part of a larger plan, God’s plan. Could the choices he’d made ultimately affect Adam’s future decisions?
Naaman took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I was afraid that your mother and I would never reconnect with each other—that we’d been wonderful parents but lost the love we once shared.”
Adam looked at the ground and kicked at the grass. “That’s how I feel sometimes. I work all day, and Hannah works hard too. By the time we tend to the kinner, there ain’t much time left for— for us.”
“Adam, I’ve made mistakes. All I can do is tell you what I’ve learned. A marriage has to be nurtured the same way you nurture your kinner. Your mamm and I stopped doing that somewhere along the way and woke up one day to realize we didn’t really know each other anymore . . . that is, we didn’t know each other the way we once did, when we were young and in love.”
Adam gazed out toward the pasture.
“Do you love Hannah?” Naaman moved closer to his son.
“Ya.” Adam turned to Naaman. “But she gets on my nerves sometimes.”
Naaman chuckled. “And I’m sure you get on hers. That’s just part of a relationship.” He rubbed his forehead. “In some ways I don’t feel like I have the right to talk with you about this, after what I did. But, Adam, if it helps you not to make the same mistakes I did, then perhaps this was God’s plan.”
Adam continued to gaze into the pasture.
“When is the last time you and Hannah had a date? Just the two of you? Maybe a night out to dinner or a picnic?”
Adam grunted. “Daed, I don’t remember us doing that since before the kinner were here.”
Naaman ran his hand the length of his beard. “I wish your mamm and I had made more time to spend with each other while you children were growing up.”
Adam nodded, then looked Naaman square in the eyes. “I love Hannah, Daed.”
“I know you do, sohn.” Naaman took a chance and put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. I never stopped loving your mother. Distance might make the heart grow fonder, but it also puts a wedge in something beautiful that’s not meant to be separated.” He pulled his hand back slowly. “Why don’t you and Hannah plan a night out soon, or even a whole day together? Let your mamm and me keep the kinner.”
“A whole day? What would we do?” A grin tipped at the corner of Adam’s mouth.
Naaman raised his brows. “Anything you want. You said you wanted to get out and see things, go places . . . Take Hannah somewhere with you.”
Adam ran a hand down his beard. “Hannah and I used to like to go to Pequea Creek, have a picnic, and go fishing. I don’t even remember the last time . . .” He shook his head as his voice trailed off. Then he scowled. “But I reckon the kinner would like to go to the creek too.”
“And you should take them sometime. But there is nothing wrong with you and Hannah having some . . . some romance, by yourselves.”
Adam’s face turned a tad red, but Naaman continued. “Your mamm and I just had a picnic at Pequea Creek.”
“I still don’t understand how you could just leave Mamm . . . and us.”
Naaman resisted the urge to hang his head in shame and instead looked his son in the eyes. “I don’t understand either. But I’m home. In time, I hope you can forgive me.”
“You know that it’s our way.”
“And I also know that forgiveness does not always come easily—for any of us. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you, your brother and sisters, and mostly Mamm.”
“I think I’d like to go talk to Hannah.”
Naaman nodded, then he watched as Adam walked away.
Adam took about ten steps before he turned around. “Danki, Daed.”
Naaman smiled, then followed Adam toward the house to find Levina.