Chapter 20
— chapter twenty
Evan had taken a step back from his job at the brickyard when Rose fell ill. Instead of working forty hours a week, he’d gone down to thirty. Sure, his finances had taken a hit, but Kurt and Russell had been making good money by that time. They’d offered to help with the bills if needed.
Evan had been grateful for his manager’s understanding and his sons’ help. He’d been sure that as soon as his wife got better, everything would go back to normal.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Rose got weaker, was subjected to more tests and scans, and they’d come to realize that not only did she have cancer, but it had spread to more than one organ.
As the doctors had warned would happen, his wife’s health deteriorated quickly.
Just a few weeks after he cut his hours, he had to take a leave of absence.
Evan needed to spend every minute with Rose and the boys.
Eventually, after Rose had gone to heaven, Evan took a good look at his financial situation.
Now that three of his sons were off and living independently and Jeremy was working part-time, Evan realized that he no longer had to work forty hours a week.
Thirty would do just fine. He’d broached the possibility to his manager, who gave him a variety of options.
He didn’t want part-time workers on the line, but there were other jobs with far more flexible hours.
Evan elected to work a front-end loader. All day long, he slid a large steel plate under pallets of bricks and transported them to various trucks and the single train car that they filled each week.
It was solitary work and rather high stress.
Everyone at the factory could remember when an operator made a mistake and a pallet of bricks fell to the ground.
Of course, they’d ended up in thousands of pieces.
It was a mess to clean up and expensive too.
Mistakes like that cost precious time since they usually made bricks to order.
Cooper, his manager, had warned Evan about the dangers of taking on such a job.
He’d shared that some men found that working ten hours more in a less-stressful position was easier.
Evan had said that he was up to the challenge.
He had been too. He’d had so few mishaps that Cooper had even promised him a quarterly bonus if he could last three months without an accident.
He’d made four bonuses in a row.
Some nights when he went to sleep, Evan gave thanks for his longtime company being so accommodating.
If that hadn’t been, he’d still be working more hours for less money.
He wasn’t sure if he would ever want to go back to his former job.
He very much enjoyed his two extra hours a day.
It allowed him to get things done on the farm—or even relax a bit.
Or, like he was doing now, prepare to visit Leanna again. He still couldn’t believe that she had a change of heart and was willing to give them a chance. He yearned for a future with her.
“Hey, Daed?”
“Jah, Jeremy?”
“What did you think of Becca?”
“Well, I think the same thing that I told you when she came over last Sunday. And what I thought the first time I met her. That she’s a nice girl.”
Jeremy frowned. “You don’t want to add anything to that?”
“Not quite sure what you think I need to add, son.”
“Come on. You must have some opinions about me seeing her.”
“Nee. I don’t. Not really.” He’d already raised three boys and knew better than to offer too many opinions. Children might say they wanted to hear bold honesty, but they didn’t.
“Daed. That’s not helpful.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to help you, Jeremy, it’s that I don’t think my opinions are going to help you much.” When his son kept frowning, Evan added, “I do like Becca. I think she is a nice young lady. But I’m afraid I don’t know if she is the one. Only you can know that.”
“But how can I know?”
“You need to pray, Jeremy. Pray about what the Lord wants you to do. And while you’re doing that, I’ll pray that you will make the kind of decisions that you will be at peace with.”
“Do you think I’ll be able to find peace dating Becca?”
“I think answering that question would be a mistake.”
“That’s unhelpful.”
“I know.”
After a few more minutes of conversation, Jeremy went out to the barn. Presumably it was to do his chores, but Evan had a feeling that his youngest was mainly looking for a private place to decide what to do. Or maybe it was more a matter of him coming to terms with the decision he’d already made.
Throughout the day, no matter how hard he tried, Evan couldn’t seem to stop thinking about that conversation. Not even while he was sitting in a chair across from Leanna later that evening.
“Evan?”
“Hmm?”
Leanna sighed. “I didn’t think you heard me.”
“I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“It wasn’t anything important. I was just commenting on something Bumble did.”
Evan felt terrible. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t meant to be so scattered tonight.”
“Care to tell me what you’ve been thinking about?”
Bracing his hands on his knees, he said, “It has to do with Jeremy.”
“Is he okay?”
Evan shrugged. “A couple of hours ago, he asked me what I thought about his girlfriend.”
One of her eyebrows rose. “And?”
“And I told him that I liked her fine.”
She blinked. “What was wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is that she’s English. He likes her a lot, Leanna.”
“Ah. Now I understand. He doesn’t know whether to get baptized in our faith . . . or leave it behind.”
“Yep.”
“Is he hoping you’ll tell him what to do?”
“I think so.” He grimaced. “I can’t do that, though. Plus, even if I didn’t think Jeremy and Becca would be good together, I’m not going to tell him that. I’m certainly not going to forbid him from seeing her.”
“All that would do is make him mad.”
Glad she was being so frank, he nodded. “Exactly. No matter if I tell him to leave Becca or leave our faith, it could go badly. He might be so upset with the outcome that he could put the blame on me.”
“And therefore have no responsibility.”
“Jah. More or less.” Stirring his coffee, he sighed. “Part of me would be okay with that. I mean, it’s a parent’s job to do the hard stuff so a child won’t have to.”
“But deciding a future is something much different.”
“Much different,” he agreed. Putting down the teaspoon he’d been holding, he said, “So, big surprise—I refused to tell him what to do. He wasn’t real happy about that.”
“I’m sorry. That’s hard, isn’t it?”
“It is. I’ve kept thinking how that boy’s problems just keep getting bigger and bigger. He was the worst sleeper when he was a toddler. Rose didn’t want him to continually wake up his brothers, so either she or I would be up with him around midnight.”
“Goodness.” Her brown eyes warmed with sympathy.
“Jah. One moment all I wanted to do was sleep through the night. Now, I’m doing my best to encourage him to weigh his feelings for his girlfriend with his faith and his future. It happened so fast.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Jah. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing all the wrong things with him. Like maybe after raising three kids, I’ve gotten a little lazy.”
“Or maybe you’ve just become a realist?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“It’s a good thing God is involved, don’t you think?” she asked in a gentle tone.
Leanna was right. He wasn’t alone in this, and neither was Jeremy. “Danke for that. I needed that reminder.”
She smiled softly at him, her brown eyes telling him that his appreciation for her meant a lot.
That was the thing about Leanna. She was so kind. Sweet. “You would’ve made a wonderful mother, Leanna.”
Her eyes widened. “Would’ve?”
Confused by her look of surprise, Evan rushed to explain himself. “Well, jah. It’s a shame you and Willis never had any kinner.”
“We wanted to have children too. But I haven’t given up hope yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only that I hope and pray that it’s not too late to be a mother.”
“You would still like kinner?” he asked slowly.
“If I got married again and the Lord was willing, jah.”
“I thought you were in your forties.”
“I’m only forty-one.” She smiled at him.
“That’s not too old?” Rose had been in her twenties for their first three.
“Women can still have a babe at forty-one, Evan. Even into their mid-forties.”
“Having a baby is important to you.”
Leanna’s expression clouded. “It is. Of course, it might never happen.” Blushing slightly, she looked away. “Obviously, a lot has to take place before I start thinking about decorating a nursery. I’m just saying that I haven’t given up my dream of having a child of my own.”
Her words were a surprise. Maybe even a shock.
Suddenly, he felt like he was at work, carrying a load of unsteady bricks on a front-end loader. Everything was in danger of tumbling down. “Leanna, I’m almost fifty years old,” he said slowly.
“I know. I haven’t forgotten.”
“I have grandchildren.”
“I remember that too.” She flashed a smile before looking at him curiously. “What are you trying to tell me?”
There it was. She was giving him the opportunity to be blunt. Tell her the truth.
Even if it was hard.
Mentally bracing himself for the fallout, he said, “I don’t want to have any more children.”
“You sound so positive.”
“That’s because I am. The only babies I want to hold from now on are grandchildren.”
Her eyes widened before she visibly fought to contain her dismay. “I see.”
He scanned her expression. Searched for acceptance. Instead, he saw confusion and a new wariness in her eyes.
“So . . . if you are sure that you want to have a baby . . . ” It was going to hurt to say the words.
“If I want to have a baby one day and you don’t . . . then you probably shouldn’t be paying any more calls on me.” Looking him directly in the eye, she whispered, “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“Jah.”
She inhaled sharply before composing herself. “I can’t believe this is happening. After everything we’ve been through too.”
“I’m sorry. It never occurred to me that you would still want a babe.”
“I never thought you wouldn’t.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I suppose it’s gut that we talked about this, ain’t so?”
It didn’t feel good. It felt like a huge mistake that was compounded by regret. Or perhaps it was merely wishes that were being crushed?
Whatever the feeling, it was crushing. Her words. Her expression. The awful, sinking feeling that had settled into his soul. Sure, he wanted to please her, but just like with his latest conversation with Jeremy, he didn’t want to promise Leanna something that he didn’t want to give.
“I’m sorry.”
“I am too.” She stood up. “I think it would be best if you left now.”
“Leanna, wait. Listen, I still have feelings for you. Strong feelings.”
“I still have feelings for you too.” Her voice sounded thick, as if every word was difficult for her to share.
“If you change your mind . . . ” He swallowed. “Running after a toddler is hard when one is in their twenties. At forty, it would be exhausting.”
“It might be. But there’s a part of me that feels like I’ve already given up so much. I don’t think I can give up a dream too.”
“I bet we could make some other dreams come true.” He knew that he would be so good to her. He knew he could make her happy. Didn’t that count?
“Evan, do you ever regret having your four boys?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then you must understand how I feel.”
“What does that mean, then? Now you’re just going to give up on us?”
“I think I need to. You’re giving me an ultimatum.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to get you to understand my point of view.”
“I do understand it. But if there’s a chance to one day have a baby, I think I might have to take it.”
“What? You’re just going to date someone else?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever fall in love again.
I don’t know if I’ll ever marry. If I’ll even be able to get pregnant and have a babe.
But if the last fifteen years of my life have taught me anything, it’s that hope is a real thing.
It’s special. It can mean the difference between living in a cloud of darkness or in a circle of light.
I’m not ready to live in the dark again. ”
The idea of Leanna being upset again hurt him. The idea of her living in the dark made him feel physically ill. He liked her too much to hurt her that way. “I don’t want you to live in the dark, Leanna. I don’t want to ever cause you pain.” Unable to help himself, he reached for her hand.
She clung to it.
Feeling even worse, he squeezed it gently. Then dropped his hand.
Then he turned and walked out her front door.
She didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Neither did he.
Because there was nothing else to say.