| |
Rivkah peered out the window for the umpteenth time watching as the moon rose higher in the sky. December had been unseasonably mild and New Year's Eve was no different, a spattering of rain creating patterns on the windowpane.
A brisk tapping on the wooden door startled her. She wasn't expecting company this late. Josiah, of course, wouldn't be knocking. Twisting a strand of hair under her lavender-hued tichel, she crossed the creaky wooden floor.
"Oh, I hope we didn't startle you. We would have come by earlier but the traffic is so bad tonight. We heard on the radio on the way down that there was an accident..."
Rivkah's sharp intake of breath gave Rose pause. She shouldn't have said anything.
"It wouldn't have been Josiah. He should be taking the highway eastward bound," David stepped forward, closing the door behind him.
Rivkah's features were still ashen as she stepped away from the entrance, bidding her impromptu guests a welcome. "Would you like some tea? I'm afraid we are all out of coffee and with my son gone..."
She really didn't have to explain further.
"Tea would be wonderful," Rose smiled, taking a seat at the kitchen table, "But you really must tell us if you are ever in need. David wouldn't mind bringing supplies in from town. I hate the idea of you out here on your own without a vehicle. Heaven forbid anything should happen."
"You worry too much my dear, but yes, Rose is right Rivkah. I don't mind helping out at all in Josiah's absence. After all you have done for us, it really is the least we can do."
"Thank you again for your offer," Rivkah smiled softly knowing she would never ask, even if in need. "I was just watching at the window for his arrival. I had expected Josiah to return hours ago. I must have let my mind wander as I didn't hear you arrive."
Rose nodded, reaching out to place her hand on her best friend's. Josiah had been gone for weeks and although he touched base when he could, it brought a great deal of worry to his mother.
"It may be selfish but I wish my sons were home. Settled on nearby farms with families of their own. At my age, I long to see them happy and content. I wouldn't worry if I knew they were near..."
"Of course..." Rose empathized, "But God is using both of your boys. You are blessed that they have grown up to be such good, honourable men. With the way things are these days... But yes, I do understand. I thought Shaul would have found a bride by now. When he returned to Israel, I imagined it wouldn't be long before we heard word he had found someone to share in his burden. There must be plenty of women for him to choose from. As for our Josiah, if he could stay home for more than... Well, there is more hope for Shaul I think."
Rose threw up her hands in mock exasperation although a smile lit her face. Of the two, Josiah was her favourite. Perhaps because she knew him better. Rose understood his passion whereas his rabbinical elder brother was a different story, although still loved by the elderly woman.
"I don't think the problem lies with availability," Rivkah smiled, sipping her lemon tea, "My Shaul is dedicated to his studies. He has begun training and, well, he wants Josiah to join him as soon as possible. They are so much alike, my boys, but in this, they are at odds. Josiah will never leave and Shaul is most insistent. It is putting a rift between them, I believe. They barely spoke before Josiah left again. I know Shaul means well, but once he has something in his head, there is no changing his mind or reasoning with him..."
"He has had to fill big shoes for a long time," David set his mug on the white tablecloth before leaning back in his chair. It creaked beneath his weight, but no one paid any attention.
A shadow passed over Rivkah's eyes. David was right of course. Shaul had grown up overnight the day his father had been shot in front of the siblings. No child should ever witness their parent's murder. Josiah had changed too. He had become withdrawn, but it was Shaul who stepped into the role of the man of the house, looking out for his mother. In one senseless act, Shaul bore the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Her boys grew up overnight, each reacting to their father's death much differently. One thing was certain, her family had never been the same.
Shaul was wise beyond his years. A tall, thoughtful man who shouldered the responsibility of his family without complaint, now from thousands of miles away. Shaul had chosen to return to Israel leaving his brother to run the farm.
"No," Rivkah sighed returning to the present, "I don't think Adonai will bless me with grandchildren any time soon."
David and Rose exchanged a look. They'd been blessed with grandchildren many years ago. Their grandbabies, now grown, brought untold joy to their lives. Wisely, they dropped the topic. After all, it was New Year's Eve. A time to celebrate and look forward to the future.
The doorknob turned, creaking in protest a moment before Josiah stepped into the warmly lit farmhouse, rain dripping from his suit jacket. His features were pale, shadowed with exhaustion.
"Hello, Mother. I'm so glad to see you here, David and Rose." Josiah left a lot unsaid.
Removing his shoes, he crossed the room, bending to kiss his mother's cheek.
Rose stroked his forearm tenderly. Josiah and his brother were like sons to her, both cherished. She worried greatly when Josiah was away.
"Well, it is good to see you at home. Yes, I know you don't celebrate our New Year's but we wanted to stop by and bring you both a little something. David, did you bring it in with you?"
"Of course," David shuffled through the bags he had brought with him, thankful he wouldn't have to go back out into the rain just yet. He wasn't getting any younger and the damp made his joints most miserable. "I think you will like this..." he pulled out a book, showing the cover first to the tall blonde at his side, then to Rivkah. "It is hot off the press."
David grinned, watching Josiah's eyes light up as he gently traced the embossed lettering.
"Thank you, David..."
"Happy New Year Son."