Rum Spring (24 page)

“I’m proud of you, Lancaster. Have you told Mystery Girl you’re not coming home this summer?”

“I told you all about Rebecca when I got back from Ptown.”

“When you cried on my shoulder for a week?”

“Whatever. You can stop calling her Mystery Girl now.”

“Mystery Girl sounds cooler, but okay. Have you told Rebecca you’d rather hide out at your grandparents’ house than try to work things out?”

“I’m not hiding out.”

“Then how would you describe it?”

“I’m…laying low. But seriously, there’s nothing to work out. We’re just friends now.”

“Friends with benefits.”

“That was one time and she made it very clear it was the last time. Rebecca and I are done. I get it. I’ve finally seen the light. So I’m going to do what she asked me to. I’m going to move on and stop hanging around waiting for her to change her mind. Because that isn’t going to happen.”

Dylan glanced at the leather-bound journal on her desk. The List she had worked so hard to compile had remained static since April, but it took an act of will for her to allow it to remain that way. She often found herself reaching for it in order to add another entry before remembering there was no need to continue cataloging all the experiences she wanted to share with Rebecca. In a few months, Rebecca would no longer be allowed to have such experiences. But if she and Rebecca were over, why did the situation between them feel so incomplete?

Dylan told herself she was a sucker for punishment but she knew the reality was much worse. She was a sucker all right. A sucker for love.

Because she was still in love with Rebecca.

“We should celebrate your big news, Lancaster. How about Lolita? My treat.”

Lolita was one of Dylan’s favorite restaurants, but every time she ate there, she was reminded of the night she took Rebecca there. The night she thought Rebecca had allowed herself to envision a future with her. But Rebecca’s future—and her present—would be in her family’s arms instead of Dylan’s.

“Lolita works for me.”

“I’ll call and reserve us a table. Why don’t you get your parents on the horn and ask them if they want to join us?”

“It might be short notice, but I’ll give it a shot.” Dylan picked up her cell phone and hit speed dial. “You know if Dad comes, he’s going to insist on picking up the tab,” she said while she waited for someone to answer. “Or is that what you were counting on?”

Erin grinned as she held her hand over the receiver on her own phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

At the end of the semester, Dylan and Erin were moving into an apartment in Conshohocken, a small mill town fifteen miles from campus. The city had a population of a little less than eight thousand, most of them Villanova students who couldn’t find affordable housing in Philadelphia. Erin was going to summer school at Villanova again. If Dylan hadn’t been able to get into Albany—she had waited until the last minute to apply and the school had waited until the last minute to respond—she had planned to work in Philadelphia until classes resumed in the fall.

Dylan’s parents had shown some initial resistance to the move, saying the commute might cut into her study time. The deciding factor had been the cost savings. Because Dylan and Erin split the rent and expenses, their parents no longer had to pay expensive dorm fees, saving each of them five figures a year. Now Erin was going to have to find someone else to share the load for three months. As full as Erin’s social calendar was, Dylan didn’t expect Erin to lack for a roommate for very long.

“Mom, I got in.” Dylan held the phone away from her ear as her mother’s piercing scream made the speakers vibrate. “Can you and Dad do dinner tonight?”

“Name the time and the place.”

“Lolita at eight.” Dylan held up four fingers, indicating Erin should reserve a table for four.

“Yes!” Erin pumped her fist and made the reservation.

After Erin left the room, Dylan devoted all of her attention to her conversation with her mother.

“Your grandma and grandpa are going to be so happy to have you stay with them this summer. Have you told them yet?”

“They’re my next call.”

Dylan toyed with the water globe she had bought in Provincetown. No matter how much she tried to put Rebecca out of her mind, memories of her always came flooding back. Their first kiss. Their first date. Their first time. The stolen moments and the ones they had shared with friends. All the things that hadn’t seemed like much at the time but had combined to form a rich tapestry Dylan would do anything to be able to continue weaving.

Dylan shook the water globe and watched the plastic mermaid and whale frolic in the artificial water.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Should I be sitting down?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I’m thinking of upping my class load.”

“You’re already close to the max. Why would you want to pile more meat on a plate that’s already overflowing?”

“If I take extra classes, I can graduate a year early.”

“I see.”

“You sound skeptical.”

“And you sound like you’re doing everything you can to avoid Rebecca once she’s baptized.”

Dylan allowed herself a smile. “Am I that obvious?”

“Your middle name should be Crystal, because I can see right through you.”

“You always have.”

“Living with your father and your brothers has helped me hone my bullshit meter. Talk to me, honey. Tell me what you’re really thinking.”

“When I was younger, I used to question how Rebecca could place others’ needs ahead of her own. Now I have to follow her example. She didn’t leave me for someone. She left me for something. There’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t compete. She needs the church and her family more than she needs me. I have to let her go. But I love her so much, Mom.” Dylan’s voice broke. She squeezed the water globe to keep from crying. “I’ve watched her walk away twice—when she first made her decision and when she confirmed it the night before we left Provincetown. I can’t watch her walk away again. Because this time it will be forever.”

“Then don’t take any extra classes. You’re already on track to graduate ahead of schedule. Go to Ireland a year early. Find your roots. Do some healing.”

“The application deadline has already passed. I needed to get my paperwork in before spring break if I wanted to go to Galway in the fall.”

“You pulled a rabbit out of a hat and got into Albany for the summer, didn’t you? Work your magic again. Talk to your advisor and see if there’s anything she can do. If she says yes, your problems are solved.”

“It’s official. I have the coolest mother ever.”

“Remember that when you write your memoirs.”

“As if anyone would want to read a book I wrote.”

“I’d be first in line.”

“That’s because you’re my biggest fan. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, honey. See you in a bit.”

Dylan felt marginally better when she ended the call. She normally felt most at ease when she had a mission to accomplish—a task she needed to achieve. The monumental challenge she now faced—letting go of Rebecca—gave her no sense of peace.

Chapter Sixteen

Rebecca didn’t know what was taking so long. It had been weeks since she had written Sarah. Plenty of time for Sarah to receive the letter, absorb what was in it, and compose a response of her own. Sarah wrote her parents all the time, but she had not responded to the letter Rebecca had written in April or the ones she had sent every week since then.

Rebecca had so many questions. Questions she could ask only Sarah and only Sarah could answer. Nearly three months had passed with no word. From Sarah or Dylan.

Dylan had looked so hopeful in Provincetown. Especially after they had made love. Rebecca had watched that hopeful look fade when she told Dylan she still planned to join church. By the time they returned home, the look had disappeared completely. But now hope burned in Rebecca’s chest. Rebecca prayed it smoldered in Dylan’s as well.

She headed back to the bakery after another fruitless trip to the post office. Mrs. Dunham was flipping through the sports section of that day’s edition of the Inquirer when Rebecca walked in. With baseball season in full swing, the Phillies’ quest for another division title was dominating the news.

Rebecca remembered going to see the Phillies with Dylan, Willie, and the Mahoneys the first year of her rumspringa. She remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The excitement of the game. The thrill of new discovery. The joy of being with friends. But she didn’t want to relive old memories. She wanted to make new ones.

“Anything?” Mrs. Dunham asked hopefully.

“Does junk mail count?” Rebecca held up the solicitations she had received from two cell phone providers and a cable company, then tossed them in the trash. Disconsolate, she put her head down on the counter. “Waiting is killing me.”

Mrs. Dunham stroked Rebecca’s hair as if she was comforting one of her children. “Is there a phone at the school where Sarah works?”

“Even if there is, I don’t have the number. We don’t have a telephone at home. Sarah probably figured we’d never call. Sarah should be there, though. She said she planned to help with the Summer Bible Study program.”

Mrs. Dunham pushed some buttons on the computer and hopped on the Internet. “Oregon is three hours behind us, but Sarah should be at work by now.” She pulled up a search engine and typed the name of Sarah’s school. “Here it is.”

Rebecca watched in amazement when a picture of the school appeared on the screen. The school’s address and phone number were displayed underneath the picture. Mrs. Dunham wrote the number down and handed it to Rebecca.

“Call her. You can use the phone in my office.”

Rebecca perked up for the first time in weeks. “When the bill comes, let me know how much it is and I’ll pay you back.”

Mrs. Dunham waved her hand dismissively. “I know times are tough, but I think I can afford a two-dollar phone call.”

Rebecca went into Mrs. Dunham’s office and sat behind the small metal desk. She picked up the phone and punched in the numbers Mrs. Dunham had written on a slip of paper.

One ring. Two rings. Three. On the fourth ring, someone said, “New Hope School. May I help you?”

New Hope. Would the name prove prophetic?

Rebecca’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. “May I speak to Sarah King? I mean Sarah Lapp.” After the divorce, Sarah had reverted to her maiden name.

“Who may I say is calling?”

“Her sister Rebecca.”

“Hold, please.”

The phone clicked and a hymn began to play. Halfway through the song, the line clicked again and the singing stopped.

“Rebecca?” Sarah panted as if she had run a great distance. “Is something wrong with Mama, Papa, or Uncle Amos? Did something happen to one of my boys?” Her voice was high-pitched and panicked.

Rebecca hastened to ease Sarah’s fears. “Nothing has happened.” Yet. “Did you get my letters?”

“Yes.” Sarah’s voice changed from concerned to wary.

“Why haven’t you written me?”

Sarah sighed deeply. “Matters of the past are best left in the past.”

“But your past can help me decide my future.”

Sarah was quiet for so long Rebecca thought she had lost the connection.

“The questions you asked make me think you have already decided your future. Why would you want to live in the world? You would leave Mama and Papa alone? You would force them to lose another daughter?”

“They would not lose me.”

“If you go into the world, you will leave them no choice. If you leave our faith behind, you will be shunned. It’s the loneliest, most miserable existence you can imagine. I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, let alone my sister.”

“You survived being shunned.”

“I had you to help me through it.”

“Would I not have you?”

“I would give you all of the support you have provided me, but I would prefer if I didn’t have to. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Don’t pay the same price I did.”

“You ended your rumspringa early because you had to. If you had not been with child, how long would you have waited to decide if you wanted to live among the English?”

“Living in the world was never an option I considered. I never fit into the English world. I was more comfortable in ours.”

“Now you make your way in both.”

“I enjoy modern conveniences and I love learning new things, but I’m not in the world every day. I spend most of my time here at the school. If I do leave, I am always with our people. That is not what you would do. You would live among the English. You would make their traditions yours.”

Sarah’s comment sounded like a personal attack. Rebecca wished she could see Sarah’s face to see if she meant her words to be as harsh as they sounded. It was so strange hearing Sarah’s voice without being able to see her. Rebecca tried closing her eyes and imagining Sarah was in the same room with her, but that didn’t help.

“I would remember my own traditions. It is what I have done during my rumspringa. It is what I would continue to do if I were to leave.”

“At all times or only when it’s convenient?”

“Evidently, living in the world is not all bad. You could come home but you have chosen to stay where you are,” Rebecca said defensively.

“It is best for all concerned if I remain where I am.”

“Best for everyone or best for you? Isaiah and Moses miss you. Mama and Papa miss you. I miss you. Do you not miss us?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” Sarah’s voice cracked as she said the words.

“Then why don’t you come home? In one of your letters, you said you dreamed of being reunited with your boys. How is that going to happen if you don’t take the first step?”

“I will when the time is right.”

Rebecca could hear the fear in her voice. Sarah was not unwilling to come home. She was afraid to. She was afraid that even though she had been forgiven, she would not be accepted. Nothing could be further from the truth. But Rebecca could not convince Sarah of that until Sarah convinced herself.

“You are welcome to return at any time,” Rebecca said. “I would not be unless I agreed to leave half my life behind.”