Where Love Grows (8 page)
Authors: Jerry S. Eicher
Donald skipped ahead a week.
February 28, 1964
We're having a doing at Bobby's place on Saturday night. I point-blank told Menno this afternoon, “You're welcome to attend. You can come with me if you want to go.” This seems to be my lot in lifeâmaking the first move when it comes to boys. But the sparkle in Menno's eyes was quite a reward!
He said, “Really? You're inviting me?”
I told him, “Well, it's nothing special, really. But the boys will be playing Beatles records, and we'll be dancing and eating food and chips and stuff.”
“So where is it at?” he asked.
“Bobby Russell's place. Do you have a car?” I was sure he didn't, but I didn't want to embarrass him.
“No, I don't,” he said. “But I can take the bus or hire a taxi.”
“Better yet, why don't I pick you up?” I said. “Outside the hospital at six on Saturday?”
Without hesitating he said, “I'll be ready!” So I have my first date with Menno the Amish man. Hopefully if all goes well, he'll have enough nerve to ask me out himself the next time. I think he will. He seems to be a good manâsweet, gentle, and thoughtful.
February 29, 1964
Wow! Menno was so good looking last night in a new pair of jeans. I picked him up at the hospital, and he admitted he'd gone out and bought them to wear to the party. He must have seen the puzzled look on my face because he said, “I don't have
Englisha
clothing.”
“Englisha?
What is
Englisha?”
I asked.
He laughed and said, “Anyone who isn't Amish or from the family of faith is referred to as
Englisha.
Things outside the Amish world are referred to as
Englisha.
It's our way of talking, I guess.”
I didn't really understand, so I changed the subject. “Do you know who the Beatles are?”
He shook his head.
“I suppose they haven't made it to Amish country yet.”
Menno laughed and said, “I think that's pretty certain!”
“Why?” I asked. “Don't you listen to the radio where you're from?”
“No, we don't. We live in a completely different world.”
“Well then,” I said, “welcome to my world. Would you like to hear one of their songs?”
“Sure!” he said.
I turned on the car radio. We listened to the Beach Boys, Ricky Nelson, and a couple of other singers I wasn't familiar with, but then my favorite song came on: “All I've Got to Do” by the Beatles. When it was over I asked Menno if he liked it. And do you know what he did? He looked perplexed! He said, “Well, it must be goodâ¦if you like it.”
“I don't know about that,” I told him. “But lots of people like the Beatles, so it's not just my opinion. I hope you learn to like them.”
“I hope so too,” he said. “If you like them, I want to like them.”
He didn't seem nervous at all!
“Are all Amish boys this plain speaking?” I asked. “Or is it because you grew up on a farm?”
“I don't know,” he said. “I've never talked much with girls.”
“You look old enough to have gone out with girls.”
“Perhaps.”
“Did someone break your heart?”
He smiled at that one. “No, I just didn't want involvement with girls until this is over.”
“This what?”
“My government service,” he said.
I told him again how strongly I felt about the war. He didn't disagree, although he seemed more opposed to all wars rather than this particular one.
When we arrived at Bobby's, I introduced him around. He didn't seem to pay much attention though. I think he was too busy watching me! I've never been with a boy who stared at me as much as he does. It was a bit strange, but it was also nice. Menno seemed totally taken with me, and he looked at me like I was fragile and might break.
The boys started the music, and I danced a few times with friends. Menno sat on the sidelines, which didn't surprise me. I figured he'd never danced in his life.
“Come on!” I finally told him, grabbing his arm.
“I don't know how,” he objected. But he came out on the floor.
He stumbled through the steps, but he didn't look too nervous.
“Relax.” I told him. “You'll get it.”
Menno had the sweetest smile on his face as we danced. I declare, he was soon better at it than I was. He's got natural rhythm or something. He squeezed my hand when we danced to a slow song. After what seemed like hours, Menno led me over to the sidelines to sit down.
While the others danced, he turned to me. Then he kissed me! Wow! He was so gentle. And he kissed me so slowly. It was like the touch of a breeze on my face. It was pure heaven. And I knew I loved him.
And I know he loves me. He told me so when I dropped him off at his apartment. He asked me to go out with him!
April 2, 1964
Spring has arrived in St. Louis, but I can think of little besides Menno and how much he means to me. How can someone love a man so much and be loved back so much? We never talk about what lies ahead of us. I know there are many differences between us, but why can't they be solved? Love can solve anything, can it not?
May 11, 1964
Another partyâat my place this time. Menno came, of course. He still doesn't own a car, which bothers me a little. Does he think about the future and about us? We are so much in love, so why disturb the sacred with questions? It will always be enough to know that I was privileged to have once loved such a man.
June 16, 1964
Menno was here last night, and we had another of our sweet times together. When he was leaving, I almost asked him what he plans to do when his time of service is over. But I couldn't get up the courage. Menno must have sensed my troubled spirit because he finally told me he's returning home soon.
I know he was just talking for a visit, but I think he meant something beyond that. I could see it in his eyes. He's never going to leave what he grew up with. And I doubt if I can go his way. I could visit his folks and find out. But with the little hints Menno drops, I don't think such a life would be for me. We are worlds apart. Yet surely somehow love can bridge the gap, can't it? I think it will have to or my heart will be torn apart. And yet how? I cannot begin to imagine.
July 10, 1964
The worst thing has happened. I thought in my foolishness that this might even draw us together into a permanent union as man and wife. Perhaps that's why I was careless, but I don't even want to think about the reasons now. I will have to be strong and brave for the both of us. If I really love Menno, I will do what is best for him.
I will tell him what isn't true to save what is true. I love Menno too much to destroy what he counts so precious at home. After all these months, I know him well enough to understand how he thinks. He's going back to a world I have never been a part of. And it's a world I know I never can be a part of.
I will tell him tomorrow what the doctor saidâ¦and what the doctor didn't say. That I am with childâ¦and that I lost the child.
It will be sad for him. He will not want to think of a babyâhis babyâdying, even if it means things will work out better in the long run. The fact is, Menno leaves in a few weeks. Not for a visit but because his term of service is over. I will not be showing before he leaves, and he never needs to know the truth.
I pray that God will give him a wife and children who will love him as Menno deserves to be loved. For me, it will be enough if I'm able to find a decent home for our child. I will then spend my life in sackcloth and ashes. That's all I am worthy of. This was never Menno's planâ¦it was mine. And I need to be the one to decide what will make all three of us the happiest.
Donald closed the tablet. So his father's name was Menno. But Menno
what
? He would look tomorrow for more clues, reading more thoroughly instead of skipping dates. He would look for a last name and, above all, a location. Surely Carol had mentioned it somewhere.
If not, he would still find his birth father somehow and approach him cautiously. Perhaps his birth father wouldn't be so anxious to meet him, especially if he now had a wife and children and perhaps even grandchildren. And certainly if he was still living in that strange religious communityâthe Amishâof his.
HAPTER
S
EVEN
T
he next morning, with the wedding quickly approaching in two days, the preparations were fully underway. For her part, Susan was sweeping the cobwebs from the barn beams. Maurice showed up in a white apron and carrying a broom.
“Your mom sent me to help,” she chirped.
“But this is dirty work!” Susan exclaimed. “And you're a guest.”
Maurice didn't hesitate. “Nonsense. So how much more do you have to do?”
“I just started. All of this area where the service will be held has to be swept down.”
“This is one thing I know how to do, and I'm helping,” Maurice stated. “Your mom and sisters are baking up a storm, and I'm in the way in the kitchen.”
“There must be
something
you can do in the house,” Susan insisted. “Anything would be better than sweeping down the barn beams.”
Maurice shook her head, taking in the long beams with a steady glare. “Spiderwebs here I come!” Maurice waved her broom like a weapon.
Susan laughed and resumed her sweeping.
Maurice pawed fiercely at the stubborn webs above her, pausing to say, “So, you really will be having the wedding in here. I'm having a hard time imagining it.”
Susan stopped for a moment. “Well, the men will have the horses outside for the day. And they will either clean the harnesses or move them. The stalls will be all cleaned out and fresh straw put down. Things will look much better by the time James and Teresa walk in together.”
“That's a nice young man your dad's got working for him,” Maurice said, sweeping again.
“Steve? Yes, he is.” Susan also resumed her work.
“Is there anything between the two of you? I noticed you invited him to supper the first night I was here.”
Susan jerked to a stop. “He's more like a friend. I haven't known Steve that long because he's from another Amish community.”
“You sure? I would declare he's sweet on you.”
“Really?” Susan felt her neck growing warm. “Steve's just a friend. And I'm seeing someone else. Didn't Teresa tell you?”
Maurice smiled. “Teresa did tell me about a young man, and I guess his name isn't Steve. Well, it's none of my business. Tell me more about Teresa and James. She gave me only the bare details. I don't think she's telling me everything.”
“So what did she tell you?”
“That James's father used to have objections about her because of Samuel. That I believe. I mean, you people are living pretty holy lives here. And then Teresa was supposed to marry this Yost fellow, but he dropped her for some reason. She wouldn't tell me why.”
Susan grimaced. “I guess we're all a little embarrassed over what happened to Teresa because of Yost. And the reason she's not telling you is that she's trying to be nice. Thankfully, someone got everything figured out before it was too late.”