Chapter 34
“It’s so hot today. Your favorite time of year. I never understood why a farmer loved to sweat. I’m thankful for the shade
myself.” Jocelyn opened the cooler packed with ice. Chilled air brushed her sweat-dampened face. She extracted the Reuben
sandwich and laid it on the threadbare quilt she’d spread under the oak tree next to Marlin’s small, white gravestone. Sun,
heat, driving rain, and cold had already weathered it. The simple text had faded. It looked as battered as she felt. “The
Fourth of July fireworks display is tomorrow night. Uri wants me and Bonnie to go with him. I haven’t gone in a while...
not since you...”
She knew the Fourth of July was her dead husband’s favorite holiday. Hot dogs, potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans, corn on
the cob, cake, and homemade ice cream. It seemed likely Marlin loved the holiday more for its food and fireworks than a sense
of patriotism for his people’s adopted country. He loved to blow things up and he loved hot fudge sundaes.
This year she would go. It was time.
The daisies she’d planted during her first visit two years ago drooped. She grabbed an extra bottle of water and poured its contents over the flowers. “You’re probably itching to know what’s going on with Bonnie. I’ll get to that, but I want to talk about something else first—after we eat.”
Jocelyn took her time eating half the sandwich with the smaller portion of chips. The salad of juicy chunks of orange, apples,
honeydew melon, grapes, and cherries hit the spot. It was too hot for coffee. She’d substituted Marlin’s favorite cherry limeade.
After a sip of a drink turned tart from the fruit that preceded it, she brushed crumbs from her apron.
A chickadee swooped down from the tree. It hopped closer, stopped, studied her.
“Help yourself.” Jocelyn pinched a bit of bread from Marlin’s half. He wouldn’t mind. He was the one who hung the bird feeders
in their backyard and filled them every week. “I’m not crazy, you know.”
The chickadee trotted closer. He, she, it? Who knew? It snatched the bread and scurried away. “Good job. I’m just trying to
muddle through like everyone else.”
Muddle through without her North Star. He’d fallen from the sky without so much as a by-your-leave. “So there’s this man who
wants to buy the farm.” Jocelyn ran through the story with a minimum of words. It could be that Marlin already knew all this,
listening from his vantage point, high and lifted up. If she could be so bold as to assume he’d been given a green light at
the pearly gates. The living hope. Or maybe he was so engrossed, sitting at the foot of the throne or listening to the prophets
of old tell their stories, that he had no time for eavesdropping on his earthly loved ones. “And then there’s this other man.”
Her throat closed. How did she tell her beloved husband about this man who’d captured a piece of what was left of her shattered heart? That he’d sneaked past her defenses? That his smile and his touch had begun mending her heart, sewing it together with such a sweetness? Piece by tiny piece. It was a laborious process, one she never would’ve attempted on her own. That she’d been fighting his attention with every ounce of her world-weary body.
No, she wasn’t crazy. Not in the least. “I really like Theo. I hope it doesn’t hurt to hear that. I can’t imagine it does.
After all, Gott willing, you’re seated next to Jesus at the right hand of the Father Himself. Our piddly mess down here probably
seems ridiculous.”
A breeze picked up. Raising her face to it, she closed her eyes. Tears threatened. Not tears of sorrow. More of a drab of
melancholy for a time long gone that would never return. The memories had already faded. Marlin’s touch. His warmth. His laugh.
The light in his eyes when he reached for her.
“I’m lonely,” she whispered. “But it’s more than that, Marlin. He’s a gut, gut man. What I feel for him is different. Because
I’m different. I’m older. Wiser. Worn. Slower. The season is different. It’s one you left before you could experience it.
A winter season. I’m all the more lonely now because I had a tiny taste of what life could still be like. It’s cruel. He didn’t
mean to be cruel, I know that, but it is. It makes no sense, but at times like this, I miss you more than you could possibly
imagine. Because you always were my touchstone.”
The breeze picked up. The rustling sound of leaves filled the air. She opened her eyes. Dappled sunlight touched her face—warm,
soft—a second, then gone with the trembling of the tree’s branches.
“I know. I know. Me too.” Jocelyn opened the cooler again. This time she presented Marlin with a huge slice of two-layered
carrot cake topped with cream cheese frosting. She added a single candle and lit it with a match. “ Froh gebortsdaag , mann.”
The candle’s flame flickered but held. Jocelyn sang “Happy Birthday” softly, her voice hoarse with tears. When it came to the end, it was all she could do not to add that line she always sang to him: “And many more.”
Carrot cake wasn’t just Marlin’s favorite. It was hers too. They’d discovered this early in their courting. One of the cakes
at their wedding had been spice-carrot. Jocelyn blew out the candle. She began to eat, savoring every shared memory of twenty-six
years of life in every bite. All the while she recounted the latest news about their daughter’s health, Bonnie’s certainty
that she shouldn’t marry, the possibility that Elijah Miller might change her mind, and all the nuances of that uncertain
journey.
“And so that’s it.” Jocelyn slid the fork into a plastic bag along with the small paper plate and the rest of her trash. “That’s
everything.” Despite her best effort, her voice quavered. The taste of spicy cake and smooth, sweet cream cheese lingered
on her tongue, made bittersweet by what came next. “I’m not saying farewell. I’m saying it might be a while before I come
back. There likely won’t be any more Reuben sandwiches or brownies.
“It doesn’t mean I love you any less.” She rose onto her knees so she could brush away leaves that slumbered on the headstone.
She kissed her fingers and pressed them to the stone. “I’ve only discovered that my heart has room to love another. Its capacity
is almost frightening. Because loving is so nice, but it’s also painful.
“Why do people stick their hearts out there again and again, only to have them pummeled and ripped to pieces? Tell me that,
mann of mine.”
One more kiss. Jocelyn wiped tears from her face. She gathered up her things, stood, and picked up the wicker basket. “Sweet
repose. Until we see each other again, Gott willing.”
The ache in her throat might never recede. With the breeze at her back, Jocelyn waved good-bye to the chickadee, now perched on a bough above Marlin’s grave. “Take care of him, will you? Talk to him. Sing to him. Keep him company.”
The thought that Marlin might be lonely too was almost too much to bear.
The chickadee chirped. It hopped along the branch as if it might follow her.
“Stay, stay with him. Sei so gut.”
The bird’s song sounded like sweet surrender.
“I’m not crazy,” she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. She quickened her stride, kicking dirt clods as she navigated
the winding path that led to the spot where she’d left her buggy. “Everyone grieves in their own way.”
“Still talking to yourself, I see. Or hear.”
Jocelyn raised her head. Theo leaned against his buggy. He straightened and smiled that silly lopsided grin. Those full lips
that kissed so sweetly. She quickened her step. “How did you know where I was?”
“Frannie might have let drop at the breakfast table this morning that today would’ve been Marlin’s birthday.” Theo moved as
if to meet Jocelyn in the path that passed by the gravestones of her Plain friends and family. “I know where I’d be, if it
were possible, on Ellie’s birthday.”
“Do you visit her grave?”
Theo took the basket from her without asking. “I did when I lived in Berlin. After I came to Virginia, I realized I didn’t
have to physically visit her grave to feel close to her. She’s in a cooling breeze, a bird’s song, in the rain, and even the
thunderstorms.”
“So I’m not crazy.”
“Not unless I am too.”
They paused between her buggy and his. Jocelyn studied his calloused fingers wrapped around the basket handle. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t want to intrude on your time with your mann.”
“Not here, here on the road. Here, with me.”
Theo shoved his straw hat back with his free hand. The sun had deepened his tan and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Their
teak color seemed even lighter. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
The gravel in his voice said it wouldn’t be good. This wasn’t about another kiss. “I’m all ears.”
Theo scooped up a maple leaf. He twirled it between two fingers. “You’re the first woman I’ve even tried to get close to since
Ellie passed. You’re the only other woman I’ve ever kissed. And I didn’t even kiss Ellie on our first date. That has to mean
something.”
“Same here. You sound troubled, as if it’s a problem.” Jocelyn stilled his hand. He offered her the leaf, brown and brittle
from the heat. She took it. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Noah.” Theo kicked at a clod of dirt with his boot. Emotions flitted across his tanned face. Frustration. Concern. Aggravation.
Even a touch of despair. “He sent me a letter. He’s taken a job working with a gut friend’s dat. He’s courting. He wants to
know if and when I’m coming home.”
Ah. Ah. A ginormous leap into a bottomless pit. “Are you... going home?”
“The funny thing is, this place, Virginia, Lee’s Gulch...” Theo waved his hand in a gesture encompassing the Virginia landscape
and Jocelyn. “It has started to feel like home. But Noah. He’s my only suh. Ellie’s suh. He’s still finding his way. I feel
as if I left him behind too soon.”
His gaze skipped over her shoulder, touched the sky, then plummeted into the ground. “Sometimes it can’t matter what the heart wants. Our kinner come first. Even when they’re grown up. He’s been through a lot. It seems that I have unfinished business in Berlin.”
“I have a daughter who’s been through a lot, so I understand your dilemma.” Jocelyn hugged her arms to her chest. “I would...
miss you. In case you were wondering.”
Theo studied the horizon. “I thought of asking you to marry me. You could move to Berlin with me.”
“First of all... first of all.” Jocelyn struggled to corral her words. “First of all, we’ve only known each other three
months. Not long enough to speak of marriage—”
“I know—”
“Let me finish. Second of all, I can’t abandon Bonnie. I just said she needs me.”
“I know, I know. That’s why I didn’t ask you.”
“But you had to throw it out there.”
“I’m grasping at straws.”
“Jah, you are.”
“Bonnie could come with us.”
“Bonnie co-owns a store here. Her family and friends are here. The farthest she’s ever been from her home is the Outer Banks.
She loves to stare at the ocean.”
“No ocean in Ohio.”
“Nee.”
“The thing is, I have to go to Berlin. I have to talk to him. See where we stand.”
The fresh stitches in Jocelyn’s heart gave way. “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“I see.”
“If things turn out the way I hope they do, I’ll be back with Noah.”
“And if they don’t?”
“We have to leave that to Gott. I don’t have the right to ask, but I’m hoping you’ll wait for me.”
“Where would I go?”
“I was hoping—I have no right, I know—but I was hoping you’d wait a bit before you make a final decision on selling the farm.”
“I can do that... for a few weeks.” Jocelyn studied his face. She memorized his eyes and that big nose, not really so big,
and his full lips. “Any more than that would be unfair to Mr. Steadman. He deserves an answer so he can move on.”
They all needed to move on.
“I won’t leave you hanging. If I can’t come back, I’ll send you a letter. I promise.” Theo set the basket on the floor of
Jocelyn’s buggy. He took her hand. His was warm and big. It covered hers completely. “In the meantime, we have today. Let’s
ride around these country roads like teenagers on their rumspringa. How does that sound?”
If it meant Theo holding her hand for a little longer, the answer was yes. Jocelyn edged closer. She would pay for it later,
but for now, how could she refuse? She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. He leaned back and stared at her. “What was
that for?”
“For giving me whatever time you’re able.”
He kissed her back. Longer and deeper.
“What was that for?”
“For not saying no. For understanding. For waiting.”
“Let’s go.” Today might be all they had. It would have to be enough. “Time’s a-wasting.”
After making sure her horse was securely tethered and had plenty of grass within reach, they left her buggy where it was parked
and took that ride in Theo’s buggy.
Jocelyn took Theo’s hand and held it for as long as she could.