Seeing Your Face Again (23 page)

And were these not her
Englisha
ways that were pushing their way forward again? Verna hadn't thought of that angle, but things were as plain as day now. No Amish woman would act like this—visit a boyfriend she'd lost. What a conflict this caused! Debbie was no longer one thing but not yet another either. She'd tried hard to live a suitable life for a future Amish and possibly an Amish
frau
for Alvin. She'd lately even used Ida as her example. She watched as Ida gave up her dreams of love with Paul and willingly accepted what she saw as the Lord's leading toward Melvin. And Debbie had to admit that Ida had bloomed. Whatever Melvin told her on their Sunday evening times together had brought Ida out of her shell.

Debbie brought her thoughts back to the subject at hand as the suburbs of Philadelphia came up. The speed limit on the Pennsylvania Turnpike dropped, and Debbie slowed down. She checked the directions she'd written out. She had the map open on the passenger seat. Philadelphia wasn't familiar to her, but the apartment where Alvin stayed was close to an Interstate. It couldn't be that hard to find. She let her mind wander as she turned off the turnpike onto Interstate 422. The miles continued. How had Alvin lived since he left the community? Had his bashfulness gotten in the way out here in the big, wide world? She couldn't imagine him in Philadelphia. She'd always seen him in plain clothing busy at work on the farm or silently seated on a church bench at Sunday meetings. Even at the church dinner tables or at the hymn singings Alvin never joined in with the jokes. If someone addressed him, he responded of course,
but that hadn't been very often. Alvin was the silent type. But she'd always sensed an untapped strength that ran deep inside his stillness. And no doubt in the
Englisha
world Alvin would have to rely on that strength. He would either grow into a better person or fall apart. No one could survive out here without some source of strength. No doubt Minister Kanagy would think her a heretic to even entertain such thoughts. How could one become a better person in the
Englisha
world? But she couldn't help it. It seemed like the truth.

Debbie took the correct exit and stopped at the intersection. She turned right and looked at the street names. The sight of Park Heights Apartments and the area that surrounded it brought a pleased look to her face. Already she had evidence that Alvin hadn't fallen apart. He must have found a decent job to afford the rent on an apartment in this well-kept area. Unless, of course, Verna and she were wrong and Alvin had used stolen money to afford such a neighborhood. The thought burned through Debbie's mind, but she pushed it away. Alvin was a decent man and no thief. He wouldn't steal money, nor would he survive on credit.

Debbie pulled into the parking lot and took the elevator to the fifth floor. Now that she was here, her heart was pounding. Her boldness also left her, but at least she wasn't drawing undue attention since she was wearing
Englisha
clothes. That choice had been the correct one. She tried to still her beating heart as she knocked on the door. She waited. When nothing happened, she knocked again. When there was still no answer, she checked the number on her paper. It was the correct one. Perhaps Alvin was at work—wherever that was. She couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

Well, she would wait for him. If he didn't come home before lunch, she would find a place to eat and then continue to wait. Alvin would surely be home by four at the latest. When he returned, their talk wouldn't take that long. She should be back to the Beiler farm by midnight, at the worst. Perhaps she should knock on a few of the adjoining doors to ask if Alvin Knepp lived here, just to make sure.
A better choice, Debbie decided, was to check the lobby downstairs. Tenant names were probably listed somewhere—on the mailboxes at least. She took the elevator down and checked the names for the fifth floor. Alvin's was there, right where it was supposed to be. Debbie sighed and waited in the lobby for a few minutes. When a couple people gave her strange glances, Debbie retreated to her car. She'd be able to spot Alvin from here, so she'd just relax and wait.

As the minutes passed her thoughts drifted back to the community. Ida and Saloma would be busy in the kitchen by now. She should be with them to help out, but right now this was more important. She shouldn't feel guilty. After twenty minutes or so, Debbie noticed a couple coming down the street accompanied by a huge dog. They walked across the parking lot, laughing at something the woman had said. Just as she was beginning to turn away, Debbie looked closer. Was the man Alvin? How could it be? Alvin with an
Englisha
woman? And laughing with her like he had no shyness left in his body? “It can't be!” Debbie whispered. Her hand raced to the door handle, and she almost pulled it open. She was ready to leap out and call after him. What she planned to say, she had no idea. But they were stopped now, and she could see the man's face clearly. It
was
Alvin. There was no doubt about that.

Debbie couldn't see the woman's face that well because she was wrapped up in a bright red scarf. But the woman was beautiful—that much she could tell. Alvin laughed again at something she said, even throwing his head back in obvious delight. Deep stabs of pain ran through Debbie. Her hands turned cold. Alvin had found a girlfriend out here in her world. The truth was plain to see. It was there right in front of her eyes. He'd never been that comfortable with her.

Debbie stayed put, her hands back on the steering wheel until the two disappeared inside. She couldn't help but notice how they walked closely side by side. She stayed frozen for long minutes in the car. Part of her wanted to rush out and demand an explanation from Alvin. Why was he doing this to her? Hadn't she made her feelings
plain? But those words had been said to the Amish Alvin. This man was someone else entirely. His hair had been cut short, and he had on
Englisha
clothing. That she'd expected, but the woman? No, it couldn't be—and yet it was.

Debbie clung to the steering wheel as great sobs burst out. She wanted to leave, but she couldn't see to drive. She wanted the comfort of the Beilers' living room, the soft murmur of the household as people stirred around her.

“How could you, Alvin?” She practically screamed the words. Long moments later, Debbie gathered herself together and drove out of the parking lot while brushing away the tears. A car swerved away from her, its horn blasting. Debbie raced off, in which direction she didn't care. Finally, she noticed a city park. A parking place was available. She pulled in and turned off the engine. She was in no condition to drive. Not until she could get control of her emotions.

Sobs racked her chest as she stumbled into the park and found a bench to sit on. Now what was she going to do? This was something she was going to have to bear alone. She couldn't tell the Beilers. They would think Alvin all the more hopeless, to say nothing of how they would question her judgment. Here she thought she could drive up to the city and snatch Alvin from the jaws of the world.
Hah!
How full of herself she'd been.

“We were wrong, Verna,” Debbie said into the open air. “Alvin's in love, and it's certainly not with me. He's never coming back.”

Twenty-Two

W
hile Debbie was in Philadelphia, Ida was cleaning her bedroom upstairs. She heard a car drive in the lane. She rushed over to the window and saw an
Englisha
girl climb out of her car that was parked by the hitching post. Ida couldn't see the girl's face, but there was something familiar…but what? Who would be arriving on a Saturday afternoon for a visit without her knowing? Perhaps
Mamm
was expecting someone but had forgotten to mention it? Ida left the broom and dust cloth and hurried downstairs.
Mamm
was already at the front door when Ida arrived in the living room.

“Is this someone you're expecting?” Ida asked.

Mamm
didn't answer as she opened the door. She gasped and stepped back, letting go of the door, which swung shut with a snap.

Ida ran to
Mamm
's side and took her by the arm. “Who is it?”

Her face white,
Mamm
clutched Ida for support. There could only be one explanation—but surely not that. It couldn't have been Lois. Ida would have recognized her sister, even with only a side view. Still, from
Mamm
's reaction Ida asked, “Was it Lois?”

When
Mamm
didn't say anything, that was answer enough. Ida
helped
Mamm
to her rocker, and then heard a quick knock on the front door.

“Please answer the door,”
Mamm
managed to whisper. “Lois is still our daughter, even if she looks like an
Englisha
.'

Ida pulled the front door open. Lois's concerned face peered at her. Ida stared. Everything about her sister had changed. Lois's hair was uncovered and cut short, with curls wavy around her head. Her dress was one of the most colorful
Englisha
ones Ida had ever seen. Its length stopped well above the knees. Lois's shoes were bright blue. Ida brought her gaze back to Lois's face. “What are you doing here dressed like that? You scared
Mamm
badly.”

A momentary look of grief flashed across Lois's eyes, but it vanished in seconds. “It's a free world, isn't it? And
Mamm
said I could visit.”

“Not like this!” Ida gave Lois another sharp glance. “You look like something, well,
awful.
And what have you done to your beautiful, long hair?”

“It's even more beautiful now, isn't it?” Lois ran her fingers through the cloud of curls before shaking her head to make them bounce.

“Maybe the
Englisha
think so.” Ida didn't move from the doorway. “But you knew what
we
would think. You should have known better. And you should have at least worn a covering.”

Lois shrugged. “Where's
Mamm
?”

Daett
came across the lawn at a fast clip, too late for Lois to flee even if she wished to, which she obviously didn't.

“You're being awful to me this morning,” Lois said, sounding hurt.

“It's
Daett
I'm worried about now.”

Ida's gaze over her shoulder finally caused Lois to turn around and look toward the barn. “Oh no!” She groaned. “Maybe I should leave.”

“It's a little late for that.” Ida stepped out on the porch and closed the front door behind her.
Mamm
might as well be shielded from
what was about to happen, even though she would still be able to hear clearly from her seat on the rocker.

Daett
came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the porch steps and stared up at Lois. “Is this who I think it is?” He didn't wait for an answer, but turned and motioned toward the car. “And you're driving a car?”

“What did you expect I was going to do?” Lois's voice was clipped. “I've joined the
Englisha
,
Daett
. That's what they do.”

Daett
came up the steps and faced Lois. “Then you can get right back into that car of yours and drive back out the lane. I will not have you here like this.”

Lois's hands shook.

Ida couldn't speak. What had Lois expected from
Mamm
and
Daett
? A red carpet? But then Lois always had been a little scatterbrained.

“But Debbie's here all the time, and she drives a car,” Lois said, her voice rising.

“You are
my
daughter. And Debbie doesn't act like this.”
Daett
motioned with his hand toward Lois's outfit. “And
she
dresses decently.”

“I
am
decent!” Lois wailed. “You're just throwing me out because I don't plan to stay Amish. That's why you like Debbie over me.”

“That's not true,”
Daett
said at once even though he winced. “I love you. You are my daughter, Lois! But I will not have you bring the world into our home. Please leave.”

“I can't even come home to visit?” Lois had tears running down on her face.

“We'll see about that later,”
Daett
said, standing his ground. “Right now you can start by dressing with modesty. Surely the
Englisha
people have some semblance of that. Most don't look like you do now. At least Debbie never did.”