Pausing a moment before moving to the next table to be folded, Abram looked up and saw Cilla across his living room. The Brennemans were hosting the Sunday meeting this week, and their home was full with the community’s Amish.
The window behind her bathed her in the dim mid-January light as the wind swirled the falling snow outside. He wanted to soak in the moment and appreciate how healthy and vibrant she looked these days. But he couldn’t, because Saul Kurtz had moved in beside her. It wasn’t Saul’s first time to take an opportunity to sidle up near her and start whispering and joking about things.
Heat ran up the back of Abram’s neck and inched up his face.
The service and the family-style meal were over. The current goal was to get as many benches and benches-turned-tables dismantled as possible and ready to slide onto the bench wagon so this small area had enough room for everyone to relax and visit.
Abram folded the legs of another bench table, and two men picked it up and took it toward the back door. He then moved to the next table to do the same. He flipped the bench over and reached to fold the legs, but they didn’t move. He wiggled the hinge and shook the crisscrossed legs, but they didn’t budge.
“Need a hand?”
Skylar’s voice startled him. Last time he saw her, she was helping Mamm and the girls clean up the kitchen.
She crouched and ran her fingers over the table’s hinge. “It’s bent.”
“Skylar,” he whispered, “stand, please. You can’t do that.”
She pulled her hand back and slowly rose. This was Skylar’s first time to attend church, and she was only here because it was taking place in their home and their parents told her it would be inappropriate for her not to come downstairs and join the meeting. He couldn’t imagine how boring three hours of church in a language she couldn’t understand must have been.
She rubbed her fingers together. “Why? Is there some type of oil or residue on it that’s harmful?”
“No. All work is divided by gender, and you can’t step in to help the men. It’s how things are done.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Can we talk about this later?”
Skylar huffed at him. “The men pitch in to help the women.”
“You mean to carry boxed dishes and such? That’s because the items are heavy.”
She stared as if he had slipped into Pennsylvania Dutch. She had on a dress, but it wasn’t an Amish cape dress. It was something she’d picked up at a secondhand store. Vintage is what she called it. When she came downstairs this morning in the dress, their parents told her how great she looked, probably because it was the first time they’d seen her in anything except blue jeans. Blue jeans were forbidden at all times for the Amish, men and women. How Skylar had gotten away with wearing them for three months was a bit of a mystery to him.
“So am I allowed to stand here and talk to you?” Skylar asked.
“Ya, sure. It might be frowned on if I wasn’t your brother. The Sabbath is intended to honor God. It is not for selfish desires like flirting.”
Abram glanced over at Cilla and Saul. If they were talking and laughing now when it was frowned on, how much were they doing that at other times? He wouldn’t feel so jealous about her talking to Saul except Susie had told him a few days ago about a couple of funny incidents that happened between Cilla and Saul. He could discount a single funny event, but two or three? Were the two spending time together?
Only a few weeks ago, after Cilla received a miraculous doctor’s report, she’d told Abram that she longed for them to go out and that she dared to dream that love and marriage might follow. But along with her elation over the great report, she was distressed because the doctor told her that a woman with cystic fibrosis and her particular issues shouldn’t have children. Her health was fragile, and having children would be life threatening.
Abram couldn’t hold her responsible for that outpouring of emotion. They’d been on the sidewalk outside the doctor’s office at the time. Now, with a new lease on life and new medications making her feel and look better, she seemed to feel differently toward Abram.
“What about singings?” Skylar asked. “Those have to involve some flirting since they’re all about singles gathering.”
“Okay, I should’ve clarified.” Abram pressed his foot against the crisscrossed pieces of wood that served as legs for the bench. “The first part of Sunday, especially church Sundays, is for focusing on God. The men and women, whether married or single, stay divided during church, mealtimes, and for a while afterward. The rules relax as the day proceeds, but even singings are divided—girls on one side and boys on the other.”
“Really? Did I know that?”
“I’m not sure, but if you attended, it would be imprinted on your brain, and you might see how well it works.”
“No one wants me there, although from what I’ve heard of the Amish singing, you people could use someone who knows music to point out a few helpful tips.”
“Skylar, sh.” Abram glanced around, hoping no one had heard her. “The youth would like the help, and they could teach it to their parents. But I doubt the adults would go for it. The men lead all the songs.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say anything. “When can I retreat to the bedroom?”
He wanted to ask if she had seen Ariana but second-guessed himself. There had been tension, lots of it, between Skylar and Ariana this past week.
“In an hour or so, I imagine. It’s a little different with the visiting church group here. But people will begin to thin out soon, and the expectations will continue to relax as the afternoon wears on.”
Hopefully he could locate Ariana in a few minutes and talk her into rejoining the church crowd. If she didn’t, it would only make things worse for her. Nothing had gone well with or for her since she’d returned home last weekend from the B&B.
Today was the first time Cilla’s district had joined Abram’s for church. There was a visiting preacher from Maryland here for just this one Sunday, so the districts combined. During the service the bishop, preacher, and deacon had each given a short message, as they did every church Sunday, but all three sermons zeroed in on Ariana. They railed against those who left the community and returned willful and disobedient, but more than that, they preached against specific things that had happened in Ariana’s life. At least the visiting minister’s sermon hadn’t been directed at Ariana.
How had she remained on the bench with the other single girls while the men preached a sermon that was clearly aimed at her and the Brenneman family? He’d expected her to dart from the house at any time, but she hadn’t. When the service was over, she helped get the food on the tables, doing as the women instructed, while too many men and women whispered every time she turned her back.
He’d thought she returned to Summer Grove looking a lot different than when she left, but today, after the three preachers spoke directly about certain things in her life, she looked nothing like herself, which meant she felt nothing like herself. The bishop had agreed to her leaving the community, even encouraged it in order to avoid legal trouble with Nicholas. Now he protested the changes—even perceived changes—that happened to Ariana while she was out there. Was he that misinformed or just a hypocrite?
Unfortunately there was no freeing themselves of him. The church lines of each district were clearly drawn, and no one could leave one church to become a member of another. Being under the authority of any bishop, preacher, or deacon had to be accepted as God’s will, and the only correct response to God’s will was to submit.
“So…,”—Skylar gestured toward Cilla and Saul—“if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal?”
Saul put his hand on Cilla’s arm as she laughed about something.
A thousand tiny daggers of anger stung Abram as if he were walking in a sleet storm. “Not sure.”
Cilla’s eyes met Abram’s, and she offered a faint smile along with a shrug and a shake of her head, all while continuing the conversation with Saul.
Abram had managed to whisper to her about fifteen minutes ago, asking where Ariana had gone. Cilla had whispered back that she would look for her.
Apparently she hadn’t found his sister.
His brother-in-law grabbed one end of the bench, and they walked to the back door and stacked it near the others. With enough of them collected, he and Emanuel put on their coats, preparing to haul the benches to the bench wagon. It was more their job than the other men’s because that’s the way it worked when it was a family’s time to have the church meeting in their home.
Cilla worked her way through the seventy-plus people inside the home and came toward them. Cold winter days like this caused everyone to remain inside after the meal.
She nodded toward the washhouse, which, as Skylar had pointed out weeks ago, wasn’t a house at all but simply their laundry room.
Emanuel grinned. “Go,” he whispered. “I’ll cover for you.”
His brother-in-law seemed to understand there are times when you just need to talk to a girl, even on a Sunday before all the church benches are put away. But rather than using this time to talk about where Ariana had slipped off to, they could have a few minutes to talk about what was going on between her and Saul.
They walked down the short hall leading to the washroom, and when they entered it, he realized another young couple had chosen this quiet room to talk. When he recognized Rudy’s back and saw that he was standing directly in front of a young woman, relief eased the tightness in his muscles.
“Gut. You’re here,” Abram said.
Rudy turned, and Susie peered out from around him.
“Where’s Ariana?”
“She went to the café. I gave her my key.” Susie’s eyes held undeniable anger. “I can’t believe what is happening. Someone needs to explain this to me. The ministers purposefully picked her out and said things that would embarrass her. It’s not fair.” Susie fisted her hands. “None of it.”
“I agree.” Rudy looked like a simmering pot with a tight lid as he leaned against the wringer washer. His movements looked smooth and calm, but Abram didn’t buy it.
“I was telling Rudy that Ariana needed time alone to think, maybe to call Nicholas or Brandi. I suggested she go to the café.”
“You suggested that? Why?” Abram asked.
“Because it’s ridiculous that she hasn’t been allowed to go to her café for the whole week.”
“That was a dangerous thing to suggest,” Abram said. “You told her to disobey Daed. She’s doing enough of that on her own, and it’s not helping her fit in very well.”
“Maybe she’s not fitting in because the ministers don’t want her to fit in.”
“Who walked out during the service?” Cilla asked. “I only saw the back of her head as she was leaving.”
Abram wished this whole thing wasn’t happening.
“Berta.” His head began to pound. “The ministers had to see her leave, and because of it, she’ll have them on her doorstep later today or first thing tomorrow.”
“Ya, well, I wanted to go with her,” Susie snapped. “And if I hadn’t been afraid of making things worse for Ariana, I would have. But Ari stayed put, so I stayed put.”
“You’ve always had fire in your gut, Susie, and you need to douse it, not add to the flame.”
“Douse your own fire, Abram.” Susie twirled a prayer Kapp string around her index finger, jerking it as she did.
“Again, maybe she just needs to do what’s being asked,” Abram said.
“Nee.” Susie released the string to her prayer Kapp. “Nothing they have an issue with is strictly forbidden, and Ariana knows it. I’m with her—hands down. Is that your life plan, Abram? If a minister puts a bull’s-eye on your back, are you just going to hand over your will to him?”
Giving in to the leaders seemed like the right thing for Ariana, but Abram had been pondering a far more disobedient thing. Since Cilla’s appointment with the doctor, he’d been thinking that if they were to marry, he and Cilla would use some form of permanent birth control. From his days in construction work, he knew such a thing existed. Some of the married Englisch guys with kids joked about how they’d been “fixed.” But he wasn’t sure he and Cilla would inform the ministers.
Abram shook his head. “Nee.”
“Gut.” Susie drew a breath. “I’m glad to hear it. Because there are good ministers throughout Amish country, but ours aren’t requiring the same lines to be toed by everyone under their authority.”
“Hallo?” Daed called from the doorway of the washhouse.
The room fell silent.
“Anyone know where I can find Ariana?” he asked.
No one answered. Daed eased forward and looked each one in the face. “Either you are refusing to answer me, or you don’t know. Which is it?”
Abram’s head pounded. Was he right to disobey his Daed? He didn’t know, and he refused to sell out Ariana while he tried to figure it out. “I know. But I can’t answer you. I’m sorry.”
Susie nodded. “Same here.” She skirted past her Daed, but before going into the main house, she paused and turned back. “Just because people think they’re right doesn’t actually make them right, and that’s true whether they are a minister or a Daed. What about Judas? Jesus chose him, and Judas was following the letter of the law when he betrayed Him. Jesus knew who Judas was from the start, and yet He chose him for specific reasons. It seems to me Judas wasn’t put in that position because Jesus expected him to be wise and holy in his authority. He was there for other reasons. Maybe the ministers are not over us for all that’s wise and holy and you’re giving them free rein to hurt your daughter, a person you know to be good and loving.”
Daed stared at Susie’s back as she left. He then turned and faced the rest of them, looking as confused and hurt as Ariana had during the church service.