“I’ve made a horrible mistake!”
Wendy rushed over to Junia, put her arm around her shoulders, and guided her to one of the kitchen chairs. Mom always kept a box of tissues in every room, and there was one in the center of the table. She pushed it toward her. Junia grabbed one, an indelicate sound filling the room as she blew her nose. Wendy waited a few moments so she could gather herself. When she finally did, the words gushed forth.
“I broke up with Malachi and I shouldn’t have. I love him, and I miss him so much. I’ve ruined our relationship, haven’t I? This is Ella’s fault. And Daed’s. He doesn’t trust me and she’s just jealous. She’s always been jealous.” Junia blew her nose again. “What am I going to do without Malachi? My life is over!” She flopped forward onto the table and heaved a big breath.
Wendy stared at her. If Junia wasn’t Amish, she would have thought the young woman was imitating something she’d seen in the movies or on TV for dramatic effect. But that wasn’t the case. She really seemed to think her life was over. Or she was an excellent actress without even realizing it.
Junia sat up and grabbed another tissue. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know my life isn’t over. It just feels like it. The one time I’m happy about something, and I ruined it.”
Out of habit, Wendy drew on her experience working with unpredictable people and volatile couples . . . then stopped. Junia didn’t need a lawyerly response. She needed scripture.
“Where are you going?” Junia asked as Wendy got up from the table.
“To get my Bible.” She had recently bought several and started keeping various copies in her room, much like Mom did with tissue boxes. This one was on top of a small shelving unit that housed Mom’s Precious Moments figurines. She sat back down and opened it to the table of contents, then found what she was looking for. “‘The troubles of my heart have enlarged; bring me out of my distresses!’ That’s from Psalm 25.”
“I’m definitely distressed,” Junia said. “But I don’t see God bringing me out of it anytime soon.” She sighed. “He never has.”
“It might seem that way,” Wendy said. “Especially when we don’t get what we want when we want it and in the time frame of our choosing.”
“But I had Malachi.”
“Then why did you break up with him?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffed again.
“There has to be a reason.”
Junia turned to her. “Because of Ella. And Daed.” Tears slipped down her cheeks again.
“They wanted you to end your relationship?”
She shook her head. “They want to control it, like they control everything.”
Wendy listened as Junia detailed Barnabas’s edict that Ella had to chaperone her and Malachi, and Junia wasn’t going to allow that. Then she told Malachi they couldn’t meet for a while, but they could continue writing letters and calling. “Malachi was fine with that, although he wasn’t happy. I wasn’t either. So I started sneaking out to meet him.”
“Did you tell him you were going behind your father’s back?”
“No. I only thought it would be for a time or two. But then it became more. I knew I was disobeying my father, but I didn’t care. Eventually I had to tell Malachi, and he wasn’t happy that we were rebelling. He said we had to follow what Daed wanted and go on an official date. With Ella. Wendy, she would have to tag along every single time I met with him. I couldn’t stand the idea of that.”
Part of Wendy wanted to point out how immature Junia’s actions were. She also didn’t have a complete grasp on why Junia ended her relationship with Malachi. But she had to be patient if she wanted to keep Junia talking. “Is there a reason you don’t want her to be your chaperone?”
She sat up straight and tilted her chin. “I don’t need one. And even if I did—which I don’t—I’d rather be alone than have her always looking over my shoulder. At least I thought that’s what I wanted.”
So much for conflict mediation being a success. “And that’s why you broke up with him? So you wouldn’t have to deal with Ella?”
Junia sniffed again. “I know it was dumb. I see that now. But I’m so angry with her and Daed. Why don’t they trust me?”
Wendy recalled the information she’d gleaned during their last meeting. Junia resented not being consulted about moving to Marigold. Ella called her lazy. Barnabas sat there helplessly. She assumed there had been some passive-aggressive behavior going on with Junia, along with being outright aggressive at some points. While Ella was more open to making some changes, she also obviously harbored a lot of resentment toward her sister and possibly subconsciously harbored some toward her father. Oh boy. I am out of my depth.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Junia said. “You can’t help me.”
“That’s a big assumption.” Wendy faced her. She might not have the professional tools, but she did care about Junia’s situation, and the young woman needed to hear some truth. “While I don’t know about your family history or your relationship with Malachi, I have seen how you respond to not getting your way. And frankly, it’s a big part of the problem.”
Junia flinched, but she didn’t run out of the room this time.
“You’re going to have to make a few decisions,” she continued. “Do you want to be with Malachi?”
“More than anything.”
Junia was sounding dramatic again, and Wendy had to wonder how many of Junia’s feelings were infatuation instead of actual love, but she couldn’t make a judgment on that with the present facts. Maybe if she’d had experience with romantic relationships, she could intuit some things. However, that was a can of worms she was going to keep sealed. “Then you need to be honest with him and tell him why you ended the relationship and that you want to reconcile.”
“But what if he doesn’t want me after I dumped him?” she wailed. “I really hurt his feelings and I feel horrible about that.”
“You won’t know until you tell him. If the situation were reversed, wouldn’t you want to know?”
She pressed her lips together. “Yes.”
Junia’s answer gave Wendy some hope. “Then you need to offer him the same courtesy. You also need to apologize to your sister and father.”
“But—”
“And it should be done during another conflict mediation session.”
“It’s not going to do any good,” Junia said, pouting.
“Did you try any of the exercises I gave you?”
“Um . . . no.”
“Then you don’t know if it’s going to work. This is another choice you have to make. Your family’s harmony isn’t going to happen if you refuse to participate.”
“But what if I do, and it doesn’t change anything?”
“Then you still need to be responsible for your own behaviors and choices. And you might have to talk to the bishop about it too. I’ve learned a lot about your culture since I moved to Marigold. If you and Malachi do get married, you’ll be a big part of his family, and he’ll be a big part of yours. Do you want him to be surrounded by strife all the time?”
Junia paused, in deep thought. “Maybe I should just move back to Lancaster,” she said in a low voice. “It would be easier.”
“In some ways, it might, but—”
“I’ve got to go.” Junia popped up from the chair and hurried out of the kitchen.
Wendy sat back in the chair, dread overcoming her. Had she inadvertently made things worse? Barnabas loved his daughters. How would he feel if Junia moved away because of this afternoon’s talk? She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. She shouldn’t have tried to handle the situation alone. She wasn’t a counselor, even though she’d had success at conflict mediation in the past. What she did have in spades was confidence—and pride. And although she genuinely wanted to help Junia, it was also in the back of her mind how grateful Barnabas would be if Wendy had repaired their family relationships. The thought was fleeting, but it had been there.
Her head dropped into her hands. She’d had all the answers for Junia. But she had no idea what to do now.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Nelson and Malachi finished cleaning the paint spill and Malachi headed home much more optimistic than he was when he arrived. “You’ll tell me what Ella says right away, ya?” His expression was full of anticipation.
“Ya.”
He grinned. “Okay. Danki again. I think I’ll get some sleep tonight.”
Nelson closed the door and shook his head, recounting the sleepless nights he’d had over Miriam and Norene. He groaned, thinking of all the time he wasted mourning something that wasn’t meant to be. While he wasn’t impressed with Junia’s behavior, he did hope his nephew would get the answer he wanted. If he didn’t, hopefully he would handle rejection better than Nelson had.
For the rest of the day, he puttered around the warehouse, restless again. His mind wasn’t focused on his task list but on his promise to Malachi. By evening he realized he couldn’t wait until tomorrow to talk to Ella. That was only stretching out Malachi’s anxiety. He picked up the breadbasket and walked over to the Yoders’.
The store was already closed, so he went to the house and knocked on the door. Right away Ella answered it. Her eyes widened a little as she stood partway behind the door.
“Hi.” He gripped the basket handle, unexpectedly tense.
She glanced at the basket. “Is there something wrong with the bread?”
“Was it for me?”
Her stiff expression softened a little. “Ya. Unless you don’t want it.” She started to reach for the basket.
“I definitely want it.”
That brought a small smile to her face, although it disappeared quickly. “Is that all you needed?”
He shifted on his feet. “Not totally. Can we, um, talk?”
“Are you still mad at me?” She tugged on her kapp string.
Her voice was small again. “Nee,” he said, telling her the truth. “I’m not mad anymore.”
“You should be.” She sighed and opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
Nelson followed her to the couch. She plopped down on it and leaned forward, her chin resting on her hands as she stared at the fire crackling in the woodstove.
It was nice and warm here, and much cozier than the warehouse. He glanced around the room. No Barnabas or Junia. “Are you alone?”
Ella nodded, not looking at him. “Junia ran away again. Daed’s out searching for her . . . again.”
Not for the first time, he was questioning Malachi’s taste in women. “Why aren’t you?”
“I don’t care where she is.”
Nelson flinched. There was a lot of pain in those six words, although he wondered if Ella was aware. “I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it.”
He went and sat next to her, making sure to place the basket between them. After Malachi left and he was alone with his thoughts, he wasn’t just distracted by his nephew’s problems or the massive undertaking the warehouse was turning out to be. He remembered how much he enjoyed touching her waist when she had lost her balance, her closeness while she was cutting his hair. And as she stared at the woodstove, it seemed she didn’t care whether he was here or not, making him aware that once again he was experiencing unrequited attraction for a woman.
But he wasn’t here to focus on his propensity to be attracted to women who weren’t interested in him. He was here to help Malachi. “Ella . . .”
She finally turned to him and tilted her head, looking at his hair. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
The hope in her tone made him shake his head. “Nee. I do look like I’m in the middle of rumspringa, though.”
Ella winced. “I’m sorry.”
He raised his hand. “You’ve already apologized, and I’m already over it. Let’s move on.”
“Okay.” She reached to touch her kapp string, only to place her hand back in her lap. “Did you cut yer hair short back then?”
“During rumspringa? Nee. Some of mei friends did.” He couldn’t help but run his hand over the back of his head and down his neck. It felt so weird not having hair back there. He was also concerned he’d get in trouble with the bishop, but according to Jesse’s boss, Micah, he was a reasonable man. He’d have to talk to him soon and explain what happened.
“At least all the paint is gone.” She angled her body so she faced him, right knee bent and resting on the couch cushions. “I think you look . . . nice. Handsome, even.”
“Yer just trying to make me feel better.” His cheeks heated at the compliment anyway.
She didn’t deny his words—only glanced at her lap again.
She doesn’t think I’m handsome? He caught himself. It didn’t matter what she thought about his looks, or his disappointed reaction. And he needed to get down to business. “Malachi came over today. Did you know Junia broke up with him?”
Her head snapped up. “She did? Why?”
“Malachi wants to know the same thing.”
“So that’s why yer here?”
Nelson nodded. “He’s honoring Junia’s request not to ask you or your daed himself.”
She glanced at the fire again. “It’s probably a gut thing.”
“My nephew doesn’t seem to think so.”
“She’s been sneaking out to meet him. Disobeying Daed. She said so right before she took off.” Ella pressed her lips together.
“I know. She admitted it to Malachi before she ended things.”
She did a double take, then stared straight ahead. “Daed was furious. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him. He even yelled at her, and that’s when she left. I’m sure she blames me because Daed wanted me to chaperone them. And maybe she’s right.”
He frowned. “Unless you made her break up with Malachi, I don’t see how you’re to blame for her decision.”
“I’m the one who pushed my daed and Junia to move here and buy the store. Neither of them wanted to. Well, maybe Daed. A little. But I can be persuasive when I want to. She’s been upset and unhappy ever since we left Lancaster, until she met Malachi.”
“Then breaking up with him makes even less sense.”
She sat back against the couch, her chin quivering. “Our business is thriving, but our family is collapsing. Junia and I have been fighting for years, but nix like what’s happening now. I’d hoped moving here would have given us all a fresh start, away from my overbearing aunts . . . the grief that never seems to completely geh away . . .”
He didn’t have to ask what they were grieving about. This was the first time she’d mentioned anything about her mother to him, and he watched the sadness appear in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ella.”
“Me too.”
Sorry was the only thing he could say. But there was something he could do. He put the basket on the floor, scooted closer to her, and pulled her into his arms.