Rum Spring (19 page)

We were friends before we were lovers. I hope we can be friends again. I’m ready to try if you are. We can cross a few more items off The List or we can just hang out. It’s up to you. I would like to have you in my life even if you can’t be my life. Do you feel the same way?

I hope I get to see you when I come home for Christmas break. I know you celebrate the holiday a different way than I do. For you, Christmas Day is a solemn occasion instead of the raucous secular celebration of mass consumption it is at my house, but perhaps you can find the time to pay us a visit. I would love it if you could be there when Michael opens his presents. If you can’t, I’ll understand, but at the very least, when you visit friends and family on “second Christmas,” please add my house to your list of stops. My parents and I still consider you and your family our friends. Nothing will ever change that.

I thought writing this letter would be easy, but it’s one of the hardest things I have ever done. We used to be so free with each other, but I no longer know what I’m supposed to say to you. What is allowed and what isn’t? I don’t know if you’re still reading at this point or if you even opened the envelope in the first place. If you are still with me, I won’t waste your time and mine reminding you of what we used to have or begging you to give me—us—another chance. You know how I feel about you. I’ve been very clear about that. I won’t pressure you. I just want to be with you in whatever way possible.

This summer, I tried doing what you asked me to do. I tried to move on. Her name is Erin. She’s a wonderful friend and roommate, but she isn’t you. She and I shared a kiss, but we’re better at sharing laughs. If you’re up for a visit, I would love to introduce you. I must warn you, though, that Erin makes Willie look tame, a feat I didn’t know was possible.

I have a biology test to study for and I’m sure you’re busy as well so I won’t keep you any longer than I already have.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Your friend,

Dylan

Dylan still wanted to be friends. She had accepted the reasons they could not be together and was willing to amend her role in Rebecca’s life. A life she would always be a part of.

Tears of joy clouded Rebecca’s vision. She had done the right thing.

When Tobias kissed her, Rebecca knew she had made a mistake.

Tobias slowed his horse to a walk and put his arm around Rebecca. She didn’t offer any resistance. He had been courting her for months without attempting to get closer. When he finally made his move, she waited to see how she would react. Even though her heart belonged to Dylan, could her body belong to Tobias? After they were married, would she be able to give herself to him and perform her wifely duties or would the act become something she would dread instead of anticipate?

He pressed his lips against hers and she placed a hand on his chest as if to ward him off. His thin lips weren’t full like Dylan’s. His hard pectoral muscles weren’t Dylan’s soft, supple breasts. His hands, hesitant and unsure, didn’t set her body aflame the way Dylan’s did. Rebecca pushed him away.

“I’m sorry, Tobias. I cannot do this.”

His eyes were wide and apologetic. “Did I move too fast?”

“Fast or slow, it would not matter. I cannot be with you.”

“Is there another who interests you more than I do? Someone in the world?”

Rebecca knew many assumed she would follow Sarah’s lead and live her life among the English. She nearly had.

“There is no one. I will devote myself to the church and remain celibate like Uncle Amos.”

“Your uncle is old and worn out. You are young and vibrant. You have your whole life ahead of you. You would deny yourself marriage and children?”

“I would deny subjecting you to a lifetime of unhappiness. I see you as a brother and a friend, not a husband. I have my family and the church. I have no need for a husband. I am not the one for you, Tobias, but you have time to find another.”

“Will you do the same?”

“I do not intend to look.”

Because I already found her.

Chapter Thirteen

Dylan hummed “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” as she finished getting dressed. She couldn’t get the song out of her head. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it was her favorite Christmas carol or anything. “Silent Night” was. But she was infected with an earworm she couldn’t rid herself of. It could have been worse. She could have had “It’s a Small World” running through her brain instead.

Thankful she had finally outgrown the gaudy holiday-themed sweater her mother used to insist she wear every Christmas Eve, she tucked her black button-down shirt into her jeans and buckled her black leather belt. She was standing in front of her closet trying to decide what shoes to wear when her father called her name.

“Almost ready!” she yelled out of the open doorway, hoping her voice would carry all the way down the stairs.

It was weird being back home, sleeping in her old room after so many months away, but it was good to see some things never changed. Her mother was still the keeper of the family traditions and her father was still in charge of keeping everyone on schedule. Her role was still the same, too. Whenever they went somewhere as a family, she was always the last one out the door.

Her parents were waiting for her so they could begin their annual Christmas Eve activities. First, they would have a leisurely dinner at Cillian’s, an Irish restaurant owned by a couple of old family friends. After a cursory round of window shopping, they would slowly drive around town to see all the Christmas lights. They would end the evening by attending midnight Mass at their church.

It was a date they had kept every year for as long as Dylan could remember. It was a date she never intended to break even after she moved into a place of her own.

“Dylan!” her father called again.

“I’m coming!” Choosing comfort over fashion, she reached for her trusty black high-top Chuck Taylors.

“You have a visitor!”

Dylan paused as she laced up her tennis shoes. A visitor? She first thought it might be Willie, but Willie knew better than to ask her to make plans on Christmas Eve. Willie also wouldn’t need to have her presence announced. She’d just come bounding up the stairs and burst into Dylan’s room without warning. Besides, Willie had tickets to the Flyers game. She and Danielle were probably standing in the concession line or settling into their seats.

Watching Willie relate to someone in a romantic way had taken some getting used to, but Dylan thought Willie and Dani were a perfect match. They had so much in common and they were obviously crazy about each other. It was too soon to take bets on how long they would last, but Dylan was happy for them. And a little envious, too. She wanted what they had. The unassailable bond. The easy camaraderie. The palpable connection.

She had had that with Rebecca.

Rebecca.

Dylan’s heart skipped a beat. Could Rebecca be downstairs? She had invited Rebecca to drop by during the holidays but she hadn’t really expected her to show up. Rebecca hadn’t responded to any of her letters, but Dylan continued to send more once a week without fail. A promise was a promise. We’re just friends, she told herself every time she put pen to paper.

Feeling the adrenaline course through her body at the thought of Rebecca coming to see her, she realized none of the conversations she’d had with herself had done any good. She was just as in love with Rebecca as she ever was.

She kept trying to convince herself to move on, but maybe she didn’t have to.

She ran down the stairs and found Rebecca sitting on the couch. Michael was standing on her lap. His short arms were locked around her neck. Her parents, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists, stood watching the happy reunion. Everyone had huge smiles on their faces.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Dylan was afraid the wonderful tableau might disappear if she spoke. Rebecca broke the spell.

“Hello, Dylan.”

“Hello, Rebecca.”

Dylan struggled to put her thoughts into words. She needed a pen in her hand or a computer keyboard under her fingers to kick her brain into gear.

Her mother covered for Dylan’s uncharacteristic silence. “We were about to head to dinner, Rebecca, but why don’t you two stay and talk?”

“Are you sure?” Dylan asked. When she began dating, her mother made her the same promise she had made Matt and TJ—she would not involve herself in Dylan’s relationships. Dylan appreciated the change in protocol.

“You can meet us at the restaurant when you’re done. Or you can stay here and babysit the little guy. Take your pick.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“It’s good to see you again, Rebecca.”

Her mother gave Rebecca a hug. Her father followed suit.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t, Mr. Mahoney.”

Her parents headed out and closed the door behind them.

Dylan sat on the ottoman across from Rebecca and Michael. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Rebecca bounced Michael on her lap. He giggled in delight and thrust his arms in the air as if he were a superhero preparing to take flight. “I’m sorry I didn’t write, Dylan. I didn’t want to say I was coming unless I was sure I could make it. Mrs. Dunham closed the bakery early today and dropped me off on her way home.”

“No worries.” Dylan placed a hand on Rebecca’s knee, then quickly drew back. The brief contact caused a rush of liquid warmth to gather in her center. She withdrew physically and emotionally. We’re just friends, she reminded herself. “How have you been?”

“Between the farm, the bakery, and quilting, I have a lot to keep me busy.”

“Mom tells me you’re quilting up a storm.”

“I’ve been inspired lately.”

“May I ask why?”

“I received encouraging words from a friend.”

Based on Rebecca’s Mona Lisa smile, Dylan assumed Rebecca was referring to her letters. “A good friend?”

“The best.”

Dylan bit her lip to temper her excitement. Rebecca was back in her life. Maybe not exactly like before, but she was back nevertheless. “Have you heard from Sarah?”

“Yes, she writes me nearly as much as you do. We’re three thousand miles apart, but she and I are closer now than we were when we shared a room. She misses Isai—Michael and Moses, but she’s doing well. She plans to join Abraham and Barbie’s church as soon as she’s allowed.”

“Have you joined church yet?”

“No, I’m waiting until Sarah is no longer shunned. Then I’ll join.”

“And then you’ll get married and have lots of little Rebeccas.” Dylan regarded Rebecca’s traditional clothes and demure manner. Rebecca’s rumspringa had not ended, but she seemed to be preparing for its conclusion. An end that would find her bound to Tobias for the rest of her life.

Rebecca shook her head. “I won’t be getting married.”

“But I thought you and Tobias were—”

“I asked him to stop courting me.”

“You did?” Dylan held her breath and waited for Rebecca to elaborate.

“I can’t love him the way he wants me to. I have a job I love and a family that loves me. Physical love is something I can learn to live without.”

“Will you be able to do that?”

“With God’s help. Tobias will make someone a good husband, but I’m not that someone.”

And you’ll make someone a good wife, Dylan almost said. Be mine.

Dylan indicated the brightly wrapped package resting next to Rebecca on the couch. “Is that for Michael?”

“Something to put under the tree for tomorrow.”

“Why wait?” Dylan picked up the package and set it on the floor. Rebecca and Michael joined her. “Michael, would you like to see what Aunt Rebecca brought you?”

Michael tore into the present, prompting laughter from his aunts.

“I guess that means yes.”

When Michael got to the container underneath the wrapping paper, he was more interested in the discarded paper than the contents of the box. Dylan unfolded the handmade coverlet while Michael busied himself turning the wrapping paper into confetti. The patchwork quilt was covered with cloth palm prints. Michael’s name and birth date were stitched into the material.

“This is beautiful, Rebecca. It looks like the one in the museum.”

“The exhibit was my inspiration. Thank you for taking me there. It was an experience I’ll never forget.”

“We could have more of those experiences if you like. What would you like to do?”

“When I was in school, my classmates and I used to spend hours standing next to the globe at the front of the room. ‘If you could go anywhere in the world,’ we would ask each other, ‘where would you go?’ Some of my classmates took the easy way out—they spun the globe, closed their eyes, and pointed to a spot—but my answer would depend on what we had studied that week. One day I would say Australia, the next day Germany, the next Hawaii. I never thought I would actually get to visit any of those places. Or stop learning about them.”

“You don’t have to. Not yet. Where do you want to go?”

Rebecca was silent for several minutes. “I’ve never seen the ocean,” she said at length. “Can we go to the beach?”

Dylan pointed to the snow-covered ground outside the picture window. “It’s a little cold right now, but if you can wait until it’s warmer, I would love to take you. I have a week off in April for Easter recess. We can go then.”

“How would we pay for it? Aren’t hotels expensive?”

“My high school graduation present from my parents was an I.O.U. for an all-expense-paid trip to the destination of my choice. We could have a luau in Honolulu, collect seashells in Cancun, or check out the view from the top of a lighthouse in Maine.”

Rebecca grinned. For Dylan, the sight was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm.

“All of the above.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for one. But spring’s not for a few months. What do you want to do tonight? We could ride around and look at the Christmas lights, listen to the carolers downtown, or meet my parents for dinner.”

“I’d like to sit here with you and our nephew.”

Our nephew. The words hit Dylan with unexpected force. She and Rebecca were joined by blood. They were family. Even if they couldn’t be together, they would always be in each other’s lives. The question Dylan had to ask herself was would that be enough? The answer was yes—for now—but would it continue to be when nights like this were a thing of the past?