When I was eleven and my father asked me if I wanted to live with him and Liz and Brady—asked, not told—and I said no, my grandparents had been the ones to comfort my aching heart once they were gone.
When I was sixteen and about to jump into my rumpsringa with abandon, Daadi had been the one to show me what godly manhood looked like through his own example, and then he guided me through the worst of it with lots of prayer and an enormous amount of patience.
When I was twenty and learned that Rachel would be joining the church, Mammi had been the one to encourage me to join as well, saying that this was where I belonged. My visits to California had stopped by then, the dividing line between my world and my father’s more distinct than ever before.
Now it was three years later, and though I knew I would always have a home here, a big part of me still couldn’t fully accept that fact. As I’d told Rachel earlier, something out there was calling to me. Something beyond myself. And that was what needled me as I lay unable to sleep. I wanted to believe God wanted me here, wanted me to be Amish. Yet it almost felt as though He was that something, that Someone, who was calling to me from outside.
Could this restlessness be of God?
If so, I couldn’t begin to fathom why.
FIVE
Somewhere deep in the night, I finally managed to fall asleep, only to be awakened again at five by the clomp of Jake’s heavy footsteps in the hallway moving past my door. As the house slowly came to life around me, I forced myself to yank the covers off. Sitting up, I placed my feet on the cool wood, hoping it would startle me fully awake.
Morning chores needed to be done before breakfast and devotions, and then after just an hour or two of work, I would be giving Jake a ride to the bus. After that, I would join in with the massive, post-wedding cleanup effort at the Bowman farm, which would likely last until sundown. It was going to be a tiring day, made worse by my lack of sleep the night before.
I came downstairs yawning. Jake, standing at the sink eating an apple, regarded me with comic concern. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks. I’m going to miss hearing that.” I snagged a mug, hoping to down a quick swallow of coffee before heading out to help him with the family horses.
“I mean it, Ty. You look terrible.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Jake tossed his core in a bowl for the compost pile. “Aw, you miss me already.” He laughed and headed for the mudroom. “Either that or you ate too many dumplings at the wedding.”
I swallowed the hot liquid and winced at the burn at the back of my throat. “I’ll be out shortly,” I rasped.
“Okay. See you there.”
I blew into the cup, listening as Jake paused in the mudroom to suit up and then headed outside into the last vestiges of night, the door slapping shut behind him. We usually went to the stable together each morning, laughing and joking all the way, but he was eager to wrap things up before it was time to go, and I was in no mood for socializing. Moving to the sink, I stood and watched through the window, spotting Daadi in the light of the henhouse just as Jake rounded the side of the barn.
Outside the window, a slender line of light was sneaking onto the horizon. I’d hoped for a few quiet minutes alone, but Mammi came into the kitchen just then to start making breakfast, and she shooed me away. I took one final sip and then gave her cheek a quick kiss before moving into the mudroom. She began humming a quiet tune as I pulled on my boots and then grabbed my hat and coat off their pegs and slipped into them. I swung the door open to see Timber there waiting for me, eagerly wagging his tail.
I greeted him warmly, and then the two of us walked side by side toward the stables. As we went, I couldn’t help but wonder how different my growing-up years would have been if Jake hadn’t been around. If I had gone to live with my dad and Liz when they asked me, the only brother figure in my life would have been little Brady, who was nine years younger than I, far too young to tease or knock around or share banter with.