CHAPTER
12

While frying bacon the next morning, Leona gingerly shared with her mother some of what Gloria had written, including that the Gingeriches were no longer Amish. She held her breath, then added, “She wants me to give her a call.”

A frown appeared as Mamma poured the mixture of eggs, milk, and onions into the hot black skillet. “Is that a gut idea?”

The same worrisome thought had nagged Leona late into the night, but she couldn’t let her friend down—not when Gloria had finally reached out to her.

“She needs to talk to me . . . she said as much.” Leona paused. “You don’t mind, do ya?”

“Well, I s’pose if you want to call her . . . there’s no reason why ya can’t.”

“Denki, Mamma.”

Her mother added Swiss cheese to the thickening eggs. “You’re clearly concerned for Gloria,” Mamma said.

Turning the bacon strips, Leona nodded. She was practically my sister . . . and I want to be there for her if I can. She couldn’t help wondering what her old friend might have to say.

All that morning at Maggie’s shop, Leona tried to imagine what Gloria’s life was like now, especially since they hadn’t shared any goings-on for this long. Had she changed considerably in looks since she’d become an Englischer? Did she wear earrings and short hair, paint her nails . . . her lips? Gloria hadn’t mentioned being married, or having a serious beau—a boyfriend, as she would surely refer to a fellow now. Was she working somewhere . . . maybe even attending college?

Ach, such a terrible shock. Gloria has followed her parents out of the Amish church!

“You all right?” Maggie asked Leona in between sales. “You look simply bedauerlich.”

“Nee, ain’t sad. Just thinkin’, is all.”

“Well, I sure wouldn’t wanna think that hard, or my face might crack.”

Leona smiled at that. “I received a letter from Gloria.”

“Wha-at?”

Nodding, Leona told her everything. “They’re no longer Amish, she said. And she sounds desperate . . . wants me to call her.”

“Well, what the world! Why now, I wonder?”

“That’s what I thought,” Leona admitted, worry niggling at her.

By her best calculations, Gloria assumed Leona had received the letter by now. “Either yesterday or today,” she murmured to herself on the drive home from the diner where she worked as a waitress. It wasn’t the kind of job she wanted long-term, but it would do for now, since she only had her GED—something she knew she should consider remedying.

“Will Leona even give me the time of day?” she whispered, recalling the dozen or more times she’d started the letter, each version ending up crumpled on the floor, until she’d finally written one she dared to send. One she was permitted to mail off now that she was twenty-one. Her father had told her he would not stop her, even though she knew it was with much reluctance.

Sighing, she glanced in the rearview mirror, glad for this time alone after juggling orders for the cook, wiping down tables, and making small talk with customers. She needed time to process everything, including what she would tell Leona in the event she called.

Driving the back roads here reminded her of happier days, of taking the horse and buggy to a quilting bee, or to market in Lancaster County. Yet she mustn’t let herself brood; she’d come too far to reminisce for long. According to her parents, as Englishers, they were right where they all needed to be.

At the stoplight, Gloria glanced at her phone on the console to check that the ringtone volume was set loud enough. She did not want to miss Leona’s call. And surely she would come through for her, despite Gloria’s silence. Not the way I planned it, she thought, resentment swelling again.

Initially, she hadn’t understood why her father had prevented her and her brothers from staying in touch with friends in Colerain. What harm could have come of a simple letter? Still, her father’s anger toward the brethren—or had it been uneasiness, even fear?—made her comply with his wishes. Well, that and the tongue-lashing when her father caught her writing to Leona their very first day back in Arkansas.

Eventually, Gloria had made new acquaintances amongst the nearly three hundred Amish in the community of Hill View, but never any as close as Leona. With just a few Amish settlements in Arkansas, naturally her father had chosen the church district most similar to that in their former community of Salem.

Now, seeing Adam’s old blue beater parked in the driveway, Gloria grimaced and wondered how he’d gotten home so early from his job at the car repair shop. She gathered up her purse, phone, and jacket, glad she hadn’t told him about writing to Leona. However, if she received a call from her friend, she would have to tell him something, especially if Leona agreed to come for a visit.

Surely our parents won’t object to having an Amish houseguest for a few days. After all, it’s been three and a half years since we left Pennsylvania. . . . What can it hurt now?

Leona ventured out of her room and passed Mamma in the hallway late that afternoon, saying she would be back shortly to set the table. “I want to call Gloria right quick.”

Her mother gave a faint smile, and Leona flew down the stairs and headed outdoors, startling a gray cloud of birds in the maples at the far end of the yard. Oh, to speak with her friend again!

She clung to Gloria’s phone number on a piece of paper as she hurried through the meadow, feeling a sudden tentativeness now. Her father’s mules were still out grazing, enjoying what was left of the daylight, and the sounds of deep springtime chorused up all around her. Lord, please be ever near as I talk to my friend.

Leona spotted the little wooden phone shanty, glad when she saw through the window that it was vacant. The door squeaked open and shut, and she stood before the telephone, realizing she was out of breath.

Gloria can’t be happy outside the Amish church, she thought as she dialed the phone number. How could she be?

After only two rings, Gloria answered, “Hello?”

Hearing her voice, Leona was momentarily speechless. Then, “Ach, Gloria! This is Leona Speicher, callin’ from—”

“I know who you are,” Gloria said. “Am I ever glad you received my letter!”

Just hearing Gloria express herself so brought back a flood of memories. “It’s so gut to talk to you.”

“You too, Leona.” Then the sound of sniffling came through the line. “I . . . I hardly know what to say.”

She heard Gloria blowing her nose. “What’s happening?”

“I’m on the brink of making a huge decision . . . and feeling so much pressure from all sides.” Gloria paused for a moment, then sighed. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, talking by phone.”

Leona recalled the letter, its urgent tone. “I’m glad to help, if I can.”

“I just don’t know. I . . . don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Calling doesn’t put me out. You know that.”

More sniffles.

Leona felt frustrated yet compelled to do something. A crazy notion struck her. “What if I came to visit you?” she suggested. “We could talk things through face-to-face—whatever’s troublin’ ya.”

“You’d do that? You’d come all this way?”

“We said we were sisters for always, remember?”

There was another long pause. “Well, if you’re serious,” Gloria said slowly, as if thinking this through. “I was actually going to ask if you’d come, but now you’re offering. I honestly didn’t expect that.”

“Sounds like we’re in agreement, then.” Leona laughed softly.

“I insist on helping pay your way.”

“Let me see what’s available for transportation. It might take me a day or so to make arrangements.”

“Oh, Leona, I can’t believe this! It means so much to me.”

“I’ll call you again when I know more, all right?” She spotted Brownie nudging his way inside the phone shack, pushing the door open with his nose. “Here comes your old pet.”

“Aw . . . how’s Brownie doing?”

“Getting up in years for a dog, of course.” Leona told her what a special part of the family he had become. “En wunnerbaar Hund.”

“I’m so glad he’s with you, Leona. I really am.”

They talked for another minute or so before Gloria initiated the end of the call.

“Jah, till we meet again,” Leona replied, echoing the words Gloria had written in her final note, attached to Brownie’s collar.

They said good-bye and hung up.

Leona shook her head. Whatever the reason Gloria had reached out to her, she was pleased she had. Breathing deeply and thanking the Good Lord for the opportunity to help her friend, she leaned down to hug Brownie, whose small tail thumped against her. “I just talked to your first owner,” she said lightheartedly. “Do you remember Gloria?”

Brownie tilted his head to look at her, and she laughed.

But as she began to walk back toward the house, Brownie by her side, concerns began to rise in her mind. Will my parents or Tom object? And will Maggie even give me the time off?

Leona’s happiness quickly dissolved into a long list of uncertainties. Was I too impulsive just now?