Eleanor left the phone shed with a hopeful smile on her face. She’d made a call to the number Letty had given her and learned that there would be AA and Al-Anon meetings this Thursday evening in Lancaster. Eleanor was eager to go and hoped that after the bishop talked to Vic, he would be willing to go with her.
I’ll go without him if I have to, though, Eleanor told herself as she approached the house. I need the support of other people who are living with an alcoholic. She had already called a driver about picking her up Thursday evening, so at least that much had been taken care of. It felt strange to go over Vic’s head like this and make arrangements for something he might not agree to, but Eleanor was filled with determination. She had put serious hopes in their bishop getting through to her husband. She felt that if anyone could help Vic, it would be Michael. Eleanor wouldn’t allow herself to carry any doubts over this matter. It was time for their situation to take a positive turn.
She stepped onto the porch and took a seat on the wooden bench near the front door. It felt nice to sit out here, enjoying the warmth of the sun, even though it was rather humid today.
Eleanor wrinkled her nose when Checkers brought a bone she’d given him this morning and dropped it on the boards beneath her feet. “I hope you don’t expect me to pick that slimy thing up and throw it for you,” she said, looking down at the dog.
Checkers flopped down on the porch, sandwiched the bone between his front paws, and started crunching.
Eleanor chuckled. It felt good to find something to laugh about. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. The comforting sound of birds chirping nonstop as they flitted from treetop to treetop almost put her to sleep. She remained in that position for several minutes, until her stomach growled, which reminded her that it was time to fix lunch. After that, Eleanor planned to write Doretta another letter, giving her an update on things so she would know more specifically how to pray.
Eleanor pulled herself to a standing position, and then she reached around to rub the small of her back. The bigger the baby in her womb seemed to get, the more Eleanor’s back muscles wanted to spasm. She opened the door and looked back at the dog. “You coming inside with me, Checkers, or do you prefer to stay out here with your gnoche?”
As though he had understood every word she’d said, Checkers picked up the bone with his mouth and followed Eleanor inside.
When Vic entered the house at five thirty, he found Eleanor in the kitchen, slicing a cucumber.
“I’m gonna go wash up,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “When I come back, I’ll set the table.”
She gave a brief nod. “Danki.”
Vic hesitated a few seconds, wondering if he should say something more, but since he couldn’t think of the right thing to say, he hurried from the room.
When Vic returned several minutes later, he noticed that the plates and silverware had been placed on the table. “What’s for supper?” he asked while putting the plates in their proper places.
“I baked a ham earlier, and it’s in the oven keeping warm.” Eleanor picked up a tomato and cut it into small pieces. “And I’m making a tossed salad to go with it. Oh, and I have some frozen peas from last year’s garden heating on the stove.”
“Sounds good.” Vic filled the glasses with water and ice and set them on the table. Finally, he got out their silverware, along with some napkins. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
“You can take the ham out and slice it, if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind a bit.” Vic grabbed two large pot holders, opened the oven door, and removed the baking dish. “Yum … the odor of this hickory-smoked ham is appeditlich.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I hope it tastes as delicious as it smells.”
Vic smiled. At least they were having polite conversation—no more arguing like they’d done Saturday morning.
Once the salad, peas, and ham were on the table, they both took their seats. As was expected, Vic bowed his head for prayer, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to God. So he just sat there until he felt it was appropriate to open his eyes and waited for Eleanor to do the same.
“How did your day go?” Vic asked after he’d eaten some peas and a piece of ham.
“It went well.” Eleanor kept her gaze on her plate and spoke in a slow, even tone. “I called and spoke with someone who heads up the AA and Al-Anon meetings in Lancaster today.”
Vic’s spine went rigid, but he kept eating and gave no response.
“Their next meeting is this Thursday evening, and I’d like to go.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Will you go with me?”
“No! I told you before that I can quit drinking on my own.”
“I know you believe that, and you’ve said it before, but …”
“There are no buts about it, Eleanor. I said I’d quit, and I will.”
“I don’t think you can. You’ve already proven that by—”
He slammed his fist on the table, cutting her off again. “If you want to attend the stupid meeting, go right ahead, but I will not go with you!” Vic pushed his chair aside and stormed out of the room, refusing to acknowledge the tears streaming down his wife’s flushed face.
“Wh–where are you going?” she called after him in a shaky voice.
“Anywhere but here. I need to be by myself!”
Vic hurried out the door and headed for the barn. He’d only been in the building a short time when he heard the rumble of buggy wheels and the whinny of a horse outside. He opened the barn doors and watched as his dad guided his horse and buggy up to the hitching rail. Vic thought it was strange to see his father show up at this time of day, so close to supper. He hoped Dad wasn’t here to let him know that someone in the family had been hurt or fallen ill.
“Hey, Dad, what’s going on?” Vic asked after he’d joined his father outside the buggy. “It’s not like you to come by at this time of day by yourself. Is everyone all right?”
“We’re fine. I came to speak to you about something.”
“Oh, okay. Let’s go in the barn to talk.” Vic led the way, and once inside, they both took seats on bales of straw. “What did you want to talk to me about?” He turned to face his dad.
“One of my friends came by the shop today, and what he told me caused some concern.”
Vic tipped his head to one side. “Oh, what was that?”
“He said that he saw an Amish man who looked like you coming out of a pub in Lancaster Friday evening.” Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “Was that man you?”
Vic’s head jerked back slightly and his heartbeat began to race. He had to think quick and make sure he said the right thing. “Course not, Dad. Why would I be at a pub?”
“That’s what I would like to know. Were you there drinking with one of your coworkers? My friend also mentioned seeing an English man coming out with the man who looked like you.” The wrinkles in Dad’s forehead deepened. “He said that the two men staggered and seemed to be making an effort to hold each other up. That would give an indication that they had not only been drinking but were both drunk.”
Vic moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue as he struggled to maintain eye contact with his father. How was he going to wiggle his way out of this, other than to flat-out lie and say that the man Dad’s friend had seen was definitely not him?
Using the back of his hand, Vic rubbed away the moisture that had formed on his forehead. This rumor needs to be nipped in the bud right now, he told himself. Otherwise, it could not only travel through my dad’s church district, but through ours here in Paradise as well.
Vic closed his eyes, struggling to think things through. He could probably convince his father that it had just been a case of mistaken identity, but what if Dad went in the house and talked to Eleanor? He would not only be able to see Eleanor’s tearstained face, but if he brought up the same topic to her as he’d asked Vic about, she might tell him about how she’d found Vic and Tom in the barn Saturday morning, sleeping off their drunkenness from the previous night. The best thing to do, Vic decided, was to stick to his original story, and if his father said anything about wanting to say hello to Eleanor, Vic would discourage it and say that she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be up for having company.
Feeling a little more confident now that he’d made a decision, Vic leaned forward and placed his hand on Dad’s arm. “As I said before, it was not me your friend saw, and I would appreciate it if you would let him know that, before any rumors get started.”
Dad nodded slowly. “All right, then, Son, I’ll accept your word and make sure that my friend knows the man he saw was not you.” He started for the barn door but turned back around. “I’d better go into the house and say hello to your fraa. If your mamm found out I came by here and didn’t check to see how Eleanor is doing, she’d probably send me to the doghouse to sleep with Freckles.” He grinned and gave a wink.
Vic rubbed his sweaty hand down the side of his pant leg. “Umm … going into the house right now is not a good idea, Dad.”
“Eleanor isn’t feeling the best, and she’s probably lying down. I don’t want to disturb her.”
Dad’s brows drew together as he pulled his fingers through the hair of his long beard. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll give your mother that message, and we’ll both be praying for Eleanor. Your mamm will most likely come by sometime tomorrow to check on your fraa.”
Oh great. Vic’s jaw clenched. If Mom comes by, Eleanor might break down and tell her that I’ve been drinking. He swallowed a couple of times. Before we go to bed tonight, I’ll need to make it clear to Eleanor that she is not to tell Mom, or anyone else, about our personal business. Anything that goes on between me and her is our business and no one else’s.
Vic felt relieved when, a few minutes later, his dad said goodbye and got into his carriage. At least he didn’t have to worry about Eleanor saying anything inappropriate to Dad tonight.
Vic headed for his horse’s stall. He would work his frustrations out by giving Domino a thorough brushing, whether he needed it or not. After that, he might groom Eleanor’s horse before he went back in the house.
Vic’s dad hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes when Michael Zook showed up. Vic had heard the man’s horse and buggy come in, and he’d hurried to leave Domino’s stall and open up the barn doors, where he now stood waiting for the elderly man.
“Guder owed.” Michael held out his hand and greeted Vic with a hearty handshake.
“Good evening,” Vic said. “What can I do for you, Bishop Zook?”
“I came by to have a little chat with you.”
“Well, come on in and take a seat.” Vic gestured to the bales of straw where he and his dad had sat.
Michael took a seat and turned to face Vic. “There’s no point in me making small talk with you. I came here to say that I know about your drinking problem, and I’d like to help.”
Taken aback, Vic blinked multiple times. “Who—who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Jah, it does. I suspect some rumor may be going on about me.”
The bishop folded his hands in a prayer-like gesture. “Your wife came by our house while I was gone today, and she and my fraa talked.”
“Oh, I see.” Vic flexed his fingers and gave each of his knuckles a good crack. “So let me get this straight … Eleanor told Letty that I have a drinking problem. Am I right?”
“Jah, and she is quite concerned about you.”
Vic flapped his hand, hoping to make light of the situation, although he did not think it was funny. “I’ve only had a few beers now and then, and there’s nothing in the Bible that says it’s a sin for a person to drink. Right?”
“That is correct, but it does say, ‘Be not drunk with wine.’ ”
Vic was tempted to remind Michael that he’d just said he had been drinking beer, not wine, but he figured that comment wouldn’t go over too well. So instead, he said, “I am not an alcoholic. I can quit drinking anytime I want.”
“Are you sure about that?” Michael leaned forward, one hand on his knee, as he seemed to look into Vic’s soul.
“Of course. I quit before, and I can do it again.”
The bishop’s bushy gray brows drew close as his face tightened. “And you’re sure about that?”
“Absolutely.”
“All right, then, I won’t hound you about it, but if something happens, and you are not able to control the desire to drink on your own, I hope you will take my advice and seek some help.” Michael clasped Vic’s hand and gave it a shake. “Please remember that I’m available to listen anytime you want to talk, about anything at all.”
“I appreciate that.” Vic walked the elderly man to the barn door and told him goodbye. He felt relieved when the bishop’s horse and buggy left the yard and were out of sight. It seemed like everyone was on his case today—first Eleanor, then his dad, and now their bishop. Hearing everything they’d all said to him was enough to make Vic long even more for a few drinks.
One thing’s for sure, Vic told himself, I am not going to any AA meetings or seek counseling. I am a grown man, and I can beat this on my own, without anyone’s help. All I need is a little self-control, and then I’ll have the problem licked.