Chapter 2 #2
Then, just when things between her and Willis seemed to settle down, Willis had an accident. His cut never healed. Then it took a turn for the worse.
By the time Willis consented to let her ask for the doctor to return, he was in a very bad state. When he refused to go to the hospital, the doctor declared that Willis had made up his mind.
Only later did she realize that he’d made up his mind to die.
And then he did.
All of that meant that while she mourned his loss and prayed that he was at peace, Leanna knew that she didn’t miss him very much.
Not very much at all.
But Doreen’s dreamy expression gave her pause. Had she ever felt about Willis the way Doreen seemed to feel about Mike?
No. No, she had not.
“I’m sorry my dear Mike is gone too,” Doreen said. “He was such a good man.” She shook her head. “But that isn’t why I came over here.”
“I see.” That was a lie, though. She actually didn’t see anything about Doreen’s unplanned visit, her words, or the startling, steady way she looked at her.
After staring at her for a long moment, Doreen pulled out a card. “I came over to give you this, dear.” She held it out, and her gaze warmed. “Here.”
Confused, Leanna accepted the card. Noticed that it was made of fine card stock, with three words written in bold, black script.
Amish Widows Club
She ran a finger over the three words.
“What is this?”
“It’s an invitation, dear.”
“To . . . to what?”
Reaching out, Doreen enfolded Leanna’s hands in her own.
“I came over to let you know that there are quite a few widows in the area who don’t necessarily want to marry again.
They’re tired of being set up with friends of friends and tired of being courted by desperate men in need of home-cooked meals . . . or worse.”
“Worse?”
Instead of explaining, Doreen’s voice gentled.
“I have found them to be a wonderful support group. Some are like me, who had a wonderful marriage with the love of their life and don’t want to marry again.
Other women weren’t so blessed. Still others have their own private reasons for wanting to remain single.
However, we all have something in common. ”
“What is that?”
“We yearn for friendships with like-minded ladies. We meet together about once a month in private, at each other’s houses.
People think we’re having sewing bees or making food for charity auctions or a host of other things.
While we certainly do many good things for other people, we mainly just sit and chat and laugh and support each other. ”
“I see.”
Doreen chuckled. “I don’t think you do, dear. But that’s okay. All that matters is that I think you would fit into our group just fine.”
After squeezing Leanna’s hands one more time, Doreen stood up. Carefully arranged the tails of her kapp. Picked up a purse that Leanna hadn’t noticed she’d been carrying. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time, dear. You take care now.”
That was it? Doreen was just going to . . . leave?
Feeling rather irritated, Leanna picked up the card and hurried to Doreen’s side. “Wait.”
The woman turned on her heel. “Yes?”
“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t believe that—”
“I understand. When you have time, read the directions on the other side of the card. It will tell you what to do, whether you decide to take me up on my invitation or choose to pretend this visit never happened.”
Choose to pretend? “You don’t understand.”
“I’m afraid I do, dear. I’ve been where you are myself.” Doreen turned before opening the front door. “Leanna, whatever you decide to do next is your decision. Pray on it and then move on. No matter what, it is your choice.”
“My choice,” she echoed.
“Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, dear. And no matter what, please know that I hope you find peace. I promise that things will get better. They always do, ain’t so?”
And with that, Doreen turned back around, adjusting her black cape over her navy-colored dress before striding forward.
Mesmerized, Leanna stood by the door and watched her leave, the hem of Doreen’s dress swishing around her ankles as the tails of her white kapp fluttered in the wind.
She never looked back once.
When the woman was out of sight, Leanna quickly closed the door. She walked to stand in front of the fireplace and gave thanks that the fire inside was still burning brightly on this chilly day.
And felt curiously empty.
Ill at ease, she returned to the kitchen, gazed at the stacks of cups and plates in the sink. All that remained of the past two visits. One so very disagreeable. The other so very disconcerting.
Feeling as if she was in a daze, Leanna sat back down in her chair. Took off her shoes. Took a bite of another cookie. She wondered yet again if a peanut butter cookie ever could be special, then decided she didn’t care and put it back down.
She stared at the card on the center of the table. Its crisp, white form lay like a beacon against the dark wood’s surface.
Unable to help herself, Leanna pulled the card toward her and gazed at the front.
Amish Widows Club
Finally her curiosity got the best of her.
She flipped.
We’re a group no one intended to join but no one wants to be without.
If you are interested in joining our organization, call the number below. You’ll hear a recording listing the next meeting location, date, and time.
If you decide not to join us, there’s no hard feelings.
You will not be asked again.
At the very bottom was a phone number.
Hands shaking, Leanna flipped the card over, but all it had were those three words she’d first read.
The club sounded wrong. Strange.
She dropped the card and stepped away from the table. Stared at it.
She’d been invited to join a club of widows who didn’t wish to get married again. It was shocking. And . . . maybe alluring?
Feeling her cheeks heat, she picked it up and shoved it in her dress pocket. Hurriedly cleaned up the kitchen and wiped the crumbs off the living room sofa. Changed her clothes. Tried to find comfort in her old flannel dress and the silence surrounding her.
She stared at the fireplace and debated tossing the card into the flames.
Still feeling antsy, she pulled on her cloak and went outside. Opened the rickety gate and walked toward the pond at the edge of her property. The temperature had dropped again. Ice had formed on the pond’s edges.
She’d forgotten to wear mittens—no wonder her hands felt like ice. She turned back around and returned to the house, only to repeat her pacing, from the fire to her bedroom then the bathroom.
She stared at herself in the mirror over the sink.
Saw her brown eyes and blond hair neatly arranged under a pristine white kapp.
Examined the dress she’d just put on. It was lavender and was now a little too loose on her.
She used to wear it to social gatherings three years ago, before her spirits plummeted. Before Willis died and she lost weight.
She thought about Zeke and his rude behavior.
And Leroy’s wandering eyes when he’d visited last week.
And Daniel, who’d tried to kiss her cheek.
And Abram, who’d asked if her house was paid off.
And Scott, who wasn’t even Amish but had heard she was in the market for a new man.
He’d asked to see the pond and inquired if it was stocked with fish.
She had dreamed of one day holding a child of her own and wondered if it was destined to only be a dream.
When she returned to the living room, she picked up her favorite book and sat back down in her chair. And realized that she wanted something more. Something more than just a good book to read. She wanted to stop looking back and reliving Willis’s last painful days.
She wanted to stop making cookies and pies and bread for men she didn’t want to marry. She was tired of being nice and doing what everyone else thought she was supposed to do.
But—she was lonely. For company of a different sort.
Leanna Mast dug her fingers into her pocket, pulled out the card, and got to her feet. With a last look at the fire, the heat kissing her cheeks, she made her choice.
After she slipped her cloak back on, she opened a cabinet near the door.
Inside was an assortment of gloves and mittens.
At the very bottom was a pair of pink mittens.
A bold pink. The label on the yarn had said the color was “Barbie.” Once upon a time, they had been her favorite mittens.
They were bright and silly and girlish and made her smile.
She’d kept them even after Willis had complained that they were unseemly.
Slipping them on her hands, Leanna was pleased to discover they still fit. They were warm and their bright shade made her happy.
Tucking the card back inside her pocket, she walked out her front door and down the street to the phone shanty.
The frosty temperature was invigorating. She almost liked the way it made her cheeks sting.
It reminded her that she was still living.
She was still Leanna Mast and she still had a mind of her own.
It was time to make a phone call.
Nee, it was time to start living again.