The Days of Redemption (24 page)

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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

BOOK: The Days of Redemption
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“I'm fine. I really just came over here to see if you needed anything.”

“I don't need anything.” It was true; she didn't. She only had a lot of “wants”—for things she couldn't change.

“Grandmother, do you think I'll ever find love?”

Elsie couldn't have surprised her more if she'd suddenly picked up a book and started reading it. “What makes you think about love, child?”

“I'm not a child. I'm the same age as Viola, you know. And you never call her ‘child.' ”

“I don't mean it how it sounds. It's only a habit,” she countered. “But let's concentrate on you. What has made you think about love?”

“Viola. I think she's in love.”

“With Edward Swartz?”

“Jah.”
Elsie smiled sheepishly. “Mommi, she's really head over heels.”

Hearing the English phrase that had been so popular when she was a teenager almost made her smile. “That's kind of sudden, don'tcha think?” she said lightly.

“Yes, but she told me that she can't help herself.”

Lovina had been like that. When she'd fallen in love with Aaron, she'd practically leapt to a life with him. No difference in their ages or backgrounds had mattered. “I suppose we'll all see what God has in mind for them.”

Elsie's brows arched over her glasses. “That's all you have to say?”

“You expected more?”

“Jah,”
she said slowly. “I thought for sure that you'd share your opinion.”

“Sharing too much has gotten me into trouble lately. What does your mother say?”

“Mamm? Oh, she doesn't know about this. There's no way Viola would tell her. Mamm would want to talk about all the pros and cons for hours.”

That did sound a bit like Marie. Peter's wife had always been one to carefully think things through. Since she wasn't anxious to become embroiled in yet another problem in the house, she returned the conversation to Elsie. “If you aim to fall in love and have a man of your own, I guess you should keep your eye out.” Of course, the moment she said the words, she winced. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

To her relief, Elsie chuckled. “I know what you mean. So, Mommi, you think it's easy to fall in love?”


Nee.
I don't think it's easy at all. Finding a partner for life ain't easy. We all have good points and bad. Finding someone who is compatible is challenging, for sure.”

“Is that what you did? You looked for compatibility?”

Lovina started to nod but stopped herself. “
Nee.
That's not what I did. I fell headfirst into love with your grandfather. So much so, I was willing to go against my parents and my friends in order to have a life with him.”

Elsie sighed. “That's what I want. The kind of love where you don't have a choice but to follow your heart.”

“I hope you find it then.”

“And you've had no regrets?”

The question hung in the air between them. Once again, Lovina realized she could be truthful or she could be as she'd always been.

“I've had no regrets,” she said at long last.

Elsie smiled in relief before standing up and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I'm glad we talked, Mommi,” she said before walking back out the door.

“I am, too,” Lovina whispered. And more than that? She was glad she'd decided to lie.

Because, of course, she had regrets. But if there was one thing she'd learned, it was that stewing over past mistakes did no one any good.

Herself least of all.

chapter twenty-two

“I didn't expect to see you today,” his father said from across the darkened room. “Edward, I told you to stay away until I called you.”

“But I didn't say I was going to do that.”

After a stuffy sneeze, his father said, “You should listen to me. I'm still your father.”

Ignoring that nonsense, Ed strode forward. “It's good I didn't listen and stopped by instead. You look worse, Daed. We need to get you to the doctor.”

“I've already seen the
doktah
. He came by last night.”

“Why last night?” Ed sat down on the side of the mattress. Even in the dim light, he could see his father's scowl. He couldn't recall his father ever liking to be fussed over, and it looked like some things never changed. “Why did he come last night? Did you get worse? You should have called me.”

Before his father could answer, he continued. “Why didn't you call? I would've come over.”

“For what purpose? So you could stand against the wall and watch me get my temperature taken?” He scowled. “That,
boo,
was the last thing I needed.”

“Daed.”

With a raspy, wet cough, his father sat up and glared at him when he attempted to fluff the pillows behind his head. “He came last night because I called him myself.”

“And?”

“And, he told me to stay in bed and drink liquids.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” He coughed again. “Well, boy, since you're determined to keep me from resting in peace, I suppose we should talk. Turn on my lamp.”

Ed did as he was asked, anxious to examine his father in a better light. After scanning his face, he eased. His father might have a thick cough, but his eyes looked clearer and his cheeks had a bit of color in them. “You do look a little better.”

His father rolled his eyes. “
Danke.
Now, I have to say that you don't look well. In fact, you look like you have something on your mind. Do you?”

“Yeah. Daed, I need your advice.”

His father's expression went from aggrieved to interested. “You do, huh?” He scanned the room with a frown. “Hmm. If you're coming over, looking for fatherly words of wisdom, I think I'd better get dressed.”

“There's no need for that.”

“There's every need. Now, go stand outside the door and wait for me. I'll be out in ten minutes.”

Ed was tempted to argue, but decided to choose his battles. “All right.”

“Good decision, Edward.”

Taking up his post outside the door, Ed felt a bit silly, like a child awaiting a meeting with his teacher. However, there was a part of him that was relieved. Selfishly, he needed his father's attention, and they'd never had a serious conversation when his father was in his pajamas.

When his father came out, he looked pale, but smelled like soap and fresh laundry. “Let's go get some hot tea and talk, Edward.”

“Should I go get your wheelchair?”


Nee
. I can walk still. A little bit of exercise might do me good.”

Once again, Ed bit his lip to keep from offering an opinion.

When they sat down in yet another cozy room with a fireplace that was next to empty, Ed folded his hands on the table. Now that it was time, he hardly knew how to start.

“Best get it over with,” his
daed
urged.

“All right.” Looking squarely at his father, he said, “Earlier this week, I had a meeting with Mr. Cross. He's head of Christian Aid Ministries Association.”

“And?”

“They want me to be the director of a mission in Belize.” He squeezed his knuckles together and took a deep breath. “And they want me to go down there next week to start setting up things.”

“That's sudden.”

“I thought so, too.”

“And when would you go down there for good?”

“Two weeks after that.”

“Ah.” The heavy coffee mug wobbled in his father's frail hands as he picked it up and sipped. Taking his time, he swallowed and took another sip.

Edward watched his father's Adam's apple move with each swallow, and reflected once again how many times they'd had much the same type of conversation. In the past, he'd usually been sharing good news.

Now, though, it felt as if he was letting his father down.

“I haven't told them I would go. But they need to know today if I refuse the offer.”

“Are you thinking that you want to refuse? Is that what you want to do?”

“I don't know. That's why I wanted to speak to you.”

He looked flummoxed. “This ain't my choice to make, Edward. It's yours.”

“But your opinion matters to me.”

“I'm glad of that. But you're a grown man, not a child. I'm not about to start telling you what to do. No matter what I say or think, the fact of the matter is you're going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“I see.” He felt curiously deflated. He'd hoped this conversation would erase all his questions and set him at ease.

His
daed
's eyes softened. “So, I won't be telling you what to do. But I'll be glad to listen while you think this through. What are you thinking?”

“Too much,” he said in a rush, he was so relieved to have a sounding board. “I don't know if I'm ready for the job. And I hadn't planned on being gone so soon.” He paused. “I'll miss you, Daed. We've barely had time to get reacquainted.”

“There weren't no need for us to get to know each other, Edward,” he said dryly. His gaze sharpening, he said, “Is there any other reason? Any particular woman you're thinking of?”

“It's no secret that I've become fond of Viola Keim. But it's too early to know if our feelings are real.”

Ed took a deep breath and went on.

“I think I might be falling in love with her,” he allowed.

His father glowered. “You're not sure?”

“I've barely been back a few weeks. It's too soon to be sure.”

“Everything doesn't need to be set in stone, does it? Just because you won't be living here don't mean you can't continue to write. Does it?”

“So you think I should go?”

“I think you should figure out what's stopping you. I refuse to think it's the change in your schedule, son.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you had decided to leave the mission field.”

“I can't do that.” That was one thing he knew for sure. He loved his work.

“Then why does the timing matter so much?”

“I feel like I'm betraying you.”

His father closed his eyes. “Edward, when your mother died, we both changed. That is the Lord's way. He guides us, makes us grow and change, even when we aren't ready. Edward, I am not the same man that I was when we lived in our little house.”

“I don't think you're so different.”

“Then you aren't seeing me, son. Please listen to me closely. I
wanted
to move here. I wanted to be around other people, I wanted to spend my days reading and playing cards and talking with people my age. You didn't stick me in a rest home. I
chose
to live here. That's the God's honest truth, no matter how guilty you might feel.”

That was what he'd needed to hear. His father's no-nonsense way of talking. It sliced through his doubts and all the garbage he'd been carrying around.

“If I go, I'm really going to miss you.”

“I will miss you, too. But this is how it's supposed to be,
boo
. I raised you to go out in the world, not to always stay by my side. I'm not ready for you to be at my beck and call. I don't want to be coddled and sat with. I want to read about your adventures and imagine your job. I want to sit by the fire and be proud of you because I know you are doing God's work. Most importantly, I want to feel at peace, because I know you are happy.”

What could Ed say to that?

His
daed
scowled. “Now, you still have some figuring out to do. You go talk to Viola Keim and see if what you think you have is strong enough to last.”

“There's also the dog,” he continued in a rush. He'd completely forgotten about Gretta. “I've got a dachshund at home. Her name is Gretta. I'm fond of her . . . I don't know what I'd do with her if I left. She just got settled at home. It seems cruel to take her to the pound.”

“You're worried about a dachshund?”

“Kind of.” But of course it wasn't really the dog. Gretta seemed to be a fitting symbol of the joy that he'd unexpectedly found in Berlin. He couldn't discount it.

And he didn't want to give it up without careful thought.

The lines around his father's eyes deepened. “Oh, for heaven's sakes, Edward, you worry too much.”

“I like this dog.”

“Well, it's certainly amazing to me that you get anything done in foreign countries without my prodding. If you decide to go to Belize, simply bring the dog here.”

“They don't allow dogs here.”

Deftly, his father ignored his protests. “Edward, is she house-trained?”

“Jah.”

“Does she bite?”


Nee.
She's even-tempered.”

“Does she run around a lot, chew on things?”

“No, she just wants to sit on her bed.”

“If she only wants to sit around, then she's going to fit in here perfectly,” he stated with a wry grin. “Bring the
hund
by, and I'll take care of her getting checked in.” He folded his arms over his bony chest. “Next problem?”

“Um. Well, I don't have any.”

“I should hope not!” With a grunt, his father got to his feet. “I for one can't think of another thing you need to worry about.” Clapping his hands lightly he said, “Well, you'd best go off now and make your phone calls.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I, son, am going back to bed. Organizing your life wears me out. Come back tomorrow and tell me what Viola said.”

“I will.” He stepped forward, reaching out to grip his father's arm. It was still thin and frail feeling. But now Ed realized that looks had been deceiving. Underneath the age spots and thin, papery skin was a strength Ed could only hope to one day possess. “Hey, Daed?”

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