Chapter 21
21
When Moses arrived at Paradise Found, he entered through the back door, went straight to his office, and closed the door. Then he sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands and let out a single sob.
Lois was Jane. He’d lost Lois five years ago. Now he’d lost Jane too. He’d never have a relationship with either.
His heart hurt. For himself. And also for Lois. She’d looked so sad when she scootered by the farmhouse—her old farmhouse, and when he passed her on the highway too. Menno had stood her up.
No. He’d stood her up.
But what could he do when he saw her leaning against the willow tree? At least he’d had the foresight to park in the farm driveway instead of driving right up to the marsh. He didn’t want Jane to know right away that he owned and drove a vehicle. That was another thing he hadn’t made clear—that he was Mennonite. Most likely Jane—Lois—had assumed he was Amish.
He’d seen Lois leaning against the tree, staring up into the branches. He’d frozen for a moment and then quietly retreated.
At first he wasn’t sure if Lois was Jane, but then he walked to the border of the farm, where he could see her but she couldn’t see him. She was obviously waiting for someone and glanced at a watch several times.
Lois never talked about birding, but she’d filled Paradise Found with bird-themed merchandise. Feeders, birdhouses, hummingbird feeders, towels and cloth napkins and tablecloths covered with birds. Bird greeting cards. Bird books. Bird bookmarks.
And yet, Lois and Jane were nothing alike. Lois was cold and unrelenting. Jane was kind and caring. They couldn’t be more different—and yet they were the same person.
He stared at his blank computer screen. Jane had a Paradise post office box. Lois would scooter into town to run “an errand”—most likely to check her post office box.
How had he missed it?
Lois had missed that he was Menno too. She hadn’t figured it out, and he didn’t want her to. That would only cause her more pain than she’d already gone through. And he wanted to protect her from that.
He heard footsteps upstairs. Lois had returned. A few more times in the next ten minutes he heard footsteps and then nothing. Only silence.
A half hour later, he heard a man’s voice in the shop. John Miller. Had he come to see Lois? Moses could no longer see the two as a couple—Lois was much too smart for John.
Evelyn giggled. Moses groaned. John Miller had come to see Evelyn, not Lois.
The next morning, Moses worked in the grocery store for a couple of hours and then stopped by the café at Sara’s urging. She had been acting as if nothing had changed in their relationship, texting a couple of times a day and asking him to stop by the café for minor issues. He’d reminded her that they were no longer courting. She’d simply smiled and said, “We’ll see. We broke up before and got back together.” Apparently she’d rewritten their story to include that they’d been courting five years ago—even though they hadn’t been. His inclination was to avoid her. But he needed to make sure things were running smoothly at the café.
They weren’t.
One of the kitchen workers hadn’t shown up for work and hadn’t responded to Sara’s phone call. Sara and the waiters were trying to make do.
“I’ll pitch in.” Moses rolled up his sleeves. An hour later the worker hurried in, saying he hadn’t heard his alarm and apologizing profusely.
Moses dried his hands on his apron as Sara asked, “Do you have time to talk?”
“About the café?”
Sara smiled. “No. About us.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
She put her hand to the back of her neck. “You’ll change your mind. I promise.”
She was relentless—but at some point she needed to accept that their relationship was over. Finding out Jane was Lois made him even more sure he’d done the right thing to end things with Sara. As sad as he felt, he was convinced he’d just stepped back from a cliff. And for that, he felt very grateful to Jane.
To Lois.
When Moses reached Paradise Found, he parked in the lot and then walked in through the front door. No more sneaking in the back and avoiding Lois.
She always stepped into the center of the store, where she could greet a customer when the door buzzed. But this time she didn’t. She stood at the counter staring off into space.
Moses took a couple of steps toward her. “Hallo, Lois.”
Her eyes darted to him as if in surprise. “Oh. Moses.”
“How are things this morning?”
She shrugged. “Fairly busy. It’s the first time the shop has been quiet.”
“Are you doing all right?”
“Jah.” She gave him a half-hearted smile. “I’m fine.”
His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t believe her.
An hour later his phone rang, distracting Moses from staring at his computer screen. J&R Contractors.
He waited a long moment and then hit Accept. “Hello, this is Moses Lantz.”
“Jeremy here. Good news! I just picked up your permits. We can start tomorrow.”
“All right.” Moses had waited so long to hear the news that it now seemed anticlimactic. Honestly, it seemed like one more loss for Lois. He knew how much she liked the field and the birds it attracted. “Do you need anything from me?”
“No. Just be prepared for us to arrive in the morning. Eight sharp.”
“Thank you,” Moses said.
He stared at the screen for another few minutes, think ing about Jane. Lois. There was no reason he couldn’t keep writing to Jane. He’d make up an excuse for not meeting her. Then he could write for a few more weeks and then gradually stop writing. He took his notebook from his satchel and began writing.
Dear Jane,
Please forgive me...
After he finished the letter, he focused on his work. Payroll. Ordering. Schedules. The light in the room faded some. It was six fifteen. He hadn’t told Lois about the construction starting the next day. He bolted into the shop. She’d already left. All the lights were off and the front door was locked.
He hurried through the shop and out the back of the building. He glanced up at the windows to the apartment. There weren’t any lights on, but it was hours until dusk. There was no reason for Lois to have lit a lamp.
A figure stepped in front of the window. Moses darted back into the rear of the building. The last thing he wanted was for Lois to think he was spying on her. He was a lot of things but hopefully not a creep.
On his way to the warehouse and his hovel behind it, he was tempted to mail his letter from the Paradise post office but decided against it. He’d mail it from Byler’s Corner on Saturday. Lois— Jane —would hear from him— Menno —soon enough.
The next morning, Moses paced back and forth behind the store. Should he knock on Lois’s door and tell her construction was starting? Or let her figure it out herself?
“What is happening?” Lois came flying around the corner of the building. She wore one of her green dresses and her hair was in a bun, but she wasn’t wearing her apron or Kapp. “Moses!” She pointed at him. “Why didn’t you tell me construction was starting?”
“I just found out yesterday, and when I remembered to say something you’d already closed up for the day.”
“Were you too afraid to knock on my door and let me know?”
Jah, actually I was . He didn’t say that. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”
“What about the red-tailed hawks nesting in the pine tree?”
“Have you seen them?”
“No. But they still might come back. And there are sparrows in the maple trees on the edge of the woods. Can’t you wait until September, when the last of their broods leave the nest?”
“The contractor won’t be doing anything to the woods, just the field.”
“They’ll still be disturbed.”
“I’m sorry,” Moses said. “I know how much this field means to you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes burning a hole through his heart, and then spun around. She stomped back up the stairs.
He wished he could tell her he needed to make a profit to pay for his Mamm’s care and therapy. He didn’t know how long he’d need to budget for, and it was expensive. Extremely so. The doctor said her physical health was good enough that she could live for another decade or two.
Moses spent the day between the office and the field, addressing questions about the property line, the plans to enlarge the septic system, and the need to adjust the location of the restrooms.
As he walked back to the shop his phone rang. Casey. Or at least the phone number of his family farm. It could be Walter.
“Hallo,” Moses said.
“Casey here. Want to go with me to the park this evening? There’s a volleyball tournament and a pie social.”
Moses hesitated. Did he want to go to an Amish event? On the other hand, did he want to sit at his desk in his studio apartment by himself on a beautiful summer evening? “Sure,” he said. “Want to grab a bite to eat at the café first?”
“Sounds good,” Casey said. “But we should get sandwiches to go. People are meeting with picnic suppers at six.”
“All right,” Moses said. “I’ll pick you up at five forty-five.” After he ended the call, he wondered if Lois was going. She didn’t get off until six—she’d be late. He needed to ask her.
As he walked into the shop, Isabelle was standing at the counter buying a candle and talking with Lois. He doubted he wanted to overhear what she was saying, but he couldn’t help it. “Such a shame,” Isabelle said. “It really is a lovely area. Of course, a month ago, I would have been happy to have the market going up, hoping Moses would sell me the shop.”
“Have you decided about Charleston?” Lois asked.
“Yes. I’ve decided to go ahead and buy it. I feel bad leaving you. And Scotty and Barbara will be leaving soon too. You won’t have much support left.”
Either Lois didn’t say anything or her reply was too low for Moses to hear. He doubted Lois was offended by Isabelle’s comment, but he was. Lois had Amy. And her church. And she had him, although he knew she didn’t consider him an asset. He’d been nothing but an—opposite of that.
“Well, I’d better be on my way,” Isabelle said. “I think I’ll order some of these candles for my new shop.”
Moses waited for the door to buzz and then waited another long moment. Then he stepped out into the shop.
Lois was staring off into space again. “Lois?”
She startled and then dropped the bird saltshaker she’d been holding. It shattered on the counter.
“Sorry.” Moses turned toward the hall. “I’ll get the broom and dustpan.” When he came back, Lois was still staring at the broken ceramic pieces.
The door buzzed and a couple of tourists stepped into the shop.
“I’ll clean this up,” Moses said.
Lois slipped around the end of the counter, and he swept the pieces into the dustpan and then stepped behind the counter to see if there were any broken pieces on that side. He swept up what he could see and headed back to the cleaning closet, dumped the dustpan’s contents in the garbage, and then grabbed the vacuum.
When he returned the tourists had left. Lois grabbed the vacuum out of his hand. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you going to the park this evening?” Before she could answer, he rushed ahead. “Because if you are, I can close and you can leave early.”
She held the vacuum against her chest. “Why are you being nice to me?”
His face warmed. “I—”
“I’m planning on going to the park, but I don’t need to leave early. Amy said she’d share their picnic with me.”
“All right.” He wouldn’t press it. “I’ll see you there. I’m going with Casey.”
Her mouth shifted to the side. He thought she was going to smile—but she didn’t. Instead she plugged in the vacuum.
When Lois arrived at the park at six thirty on her scooter, he smiled her way, trying to get her attention. But as she headed for the table where Amy and Bennie sat with their children, Lois turned her back on Moses and ignored him.