The Caregiver

CHAPTER 25





All day women had bustled around the Lapps’ kitchen, making casseroles for the coming week, but now, it seemed, most had left. Of course, they’d also left a bit of a mess.

Mentally, Lucy figured she had just under an hour to get the kitchen to rights before Mattie and Aunt Jenna returned. But when she went back to her aunt’s kitchen, Lucy skittered to a stop.

Gwen was still there.

It was tempting to turn back around, but of course, that wasn’t the right thing to do. She had come to Mattie’s home to help, and that’s what she had done.

With that in mind, Lucy stepped forward. “Thank you for staying a little longer.”

“I don’t mind. As I told Mattie, I want to help in any way I can.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Lucy replied. “There’s so much to do.”

“And no one in the Lapp family ever asks for help.”

“I’ve thought that same thing,” Lucy said, sharing a smile with the other girl.

Well, maybe she was finally going to be able to cast away her wariness around Gwen. Breathing deep, Lucy gave thanks for Psalm 51: Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me.

Yes, it truly wasn’t her place to judge what had happened between Gwen and Calvin. She needed to keep that in the forefront of her mind, above all else.

Gwen looked up from the orange she was sectioning. “So many people have brought Jenna and Mattie fresh fruit, I thought I’d make a fruit salad.”

“I’ll help you, if I may.” After washing her hands and claiming one of Jenna’s paring knives, Lucy took her place beside Gwen and started slicing strawberries. “Mattie should enjoy this,” she said after a moment. “She likes fruit salad very much.”

“She always took care to tell me that she got oranges at Christmas,” Gwen murmured. “I hope she still likes them.”

“Mattie told me some things don’t taste like they used to. But we can only try, I suppose.”

Gwen frowned. “Yes, that is all we can do.”

Looking for a happier topic, Lucy said, “I heard that you will be getting married soon.”

“Yes.” She added quickly, “Have you met Will?”

“I’m sorry, I have not.”

“I’ll look forward to introducing you to him, then.” She paused. “He’s a gut man.”

“I’m happy for you.”

Gwen set her knife down. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said slowly. “I thought perhaps you would be angry at me on Calvin’s behalf.”

Because she’d been tempted to be that way, Lucy knew her cheeks were flushing. “Your relationships are none of my concern. After all, I hardly know Calvin.”

“Really? I had gotten the feeling that you knew each other quite well.”

Gwen was right. Lucy did know Calvin fairly well. But they’d had their moments of confusion, too. “Gwen, if you don’t mind me asking . . . why did you choose Will?”

“I chose Will because he chose me,” she said after a pause. “And we fell in love. And . . . because it is necessary that I marry.”

Ah. There was that mention again.

Lucy gripped the handle on her knife as she recalled her early feelings of duty and responsibility. “I married like that as well.”

Beside her, Gwen froze. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“He died.” Lucy didn’t dare turn to meet her gaze, though. She was afraid if she did, she would never be able to tell her story. And instinctively she knew that the Lord had provided her with this moment with Gwen just for this purpose. “I don’t like to speak of it.”

“Because you miss him too much?”

Oh, but Gwen’s voice had a wistful edge to it. Lucy was almost tempted to let her think that way. It would be easier.

But it wouldn’t be the truth.

“No, that isn’t the reason.” She cleared her throat. “I’m the oldest of six children. My family was having some financial struggles. Moving out and moving on seemed the right thing to do.”

“Those feelings are understandable.”

Lucy felt her insides relax, glad to be understood. “Jah. Paul was a handsome man, and very personable. My family enjoyed his company. It seemed like an easy choice.”

Gwen paused. “So you two were happy?”

Lucy closed her eyes as she tried to recall her feelings for the man who ultimately did so much to harm her. “No. No, we were not.”

Then, remembering that God was right beside her, Lucy forced herself to continue. “Gwen, I had a child’s view of love and marriage. I imagined that Paul and I would somehow have a houseful of kinner, and that in many ways we would have separate lives. He would go to work at the ironworks, and I would stay home and raise the children.”

“But that didn’t happen?”

“Oh, nothing happened like I imagined. Living with someone is a difficult thing, Gwen. Even in the best of relationships, each person must compromise and give and take. But Paul wasn’t like that. He liked always being right.” She paused, trying to come up with the correct words, but there really weren’t any. “Paul liked being in charge, and he was angry and hurtful . . . and he liked hurting me.”

Gwen paled. “What did your family do?”

“Nothing.”

“But—”

“I hid a lot of my problems. After all, there was nothing they could do. I was Paul’s wife. I’d spoken vows and I promised I would honor and obey him.” In spite of the gravity of the conversation, Lucy smiled. “This is what I’m trying to tell you, Gwen. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what everyone else thinks you should do, or wants you to do. If you marry the wrong person, you, and you alone, will have to deal with the consequences, in every way possible.”

“Are you saying you think I shouldn’t want to marry Will?”

“I’m not saying that at all. I don’t know you or Will. I’m no judge.” She swallowed, prayed for the Lord to help her with her words. To help her find the right words. “But, Gwen, I found out the hard way that marrying Paul in order to help my family didn’t end up helping them at all. My parents knew I was unhappy and felt guilty. My siblings knew I had married in order to help them and they felt a lot of grief, too.”

“What happened to Paul?”

“One evening, he slipped on a ladder and fell.” Just in time, she closed her mouth. The last thing she wanted to do was to admit her guilt. To admit that she should have checked on him far earlier than she did.

“And then you were free.”

“I was free of his hurtful ways, but not of the consequences,” Lucy corrected. “The truth is, the two years I spent married to him changed me. It changed who I once was. And now I can never go back.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Making a mistake that I can never go back from?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps no one knows except you and Will and God.” She shrugged, wishing she had a better ability to speak about what was in her heart. “I guess I’m just trying to tell you that I have learned that nothing is a simple, singular choice. Our lives are intertwined with each other, like the honeysuckle vines growing on the fence outside. Everything we do affects so many other people, for better or worse. So, perhaps, it is better to live life a little too cautiously than in a headstrong fashion.”

In a deliberate manner, Gwen carefully scooped the orange sections into the glass bowl in between them, then rinsed off her knife.

Lucy sliced strawberries and waited. Giving Gwen time to reflect on what she said.

After drying her hands with a dish towel, Gwen faced her. “I want to thank you for telling me about your marriage. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t.”

“You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling in a winsome way. “I think I, too, have been guilty of not thinking about what a marriage would truly be like. Instead, I’ve only been thinking of making my mother’s and sister’s lives easier.”

“I didn’t mean to change your mind . . . just to make you realize that there are always consequences.”

“I understand.” She sighed. “Now I want to leave with something for you to think about.”

“Yes?”

“In all the time Calvin and I were sweethearts, he never once looked at me the way I’ve seen him look at you.”

Stunned, Lucy shook her head. “I doubt—”

“Don’t doubt. I promise. I wouldn’t make something like that up.”

And before Lucy could ask Gwen what she meant by that remark, Gwen left the kitchen, just as her Aunt Jenna walked in the front door.

“Lucy?” Jenna called out, her voice strained.

Lucy ran to the entryway. Her aunt was standing by the front door, looking pale and exhausted. “Yes?”

“Could you please help me get Mattie inside? I’m afraid it’s been a terribly difficult day.”

“Of course,” Lucy replied.

She followed her aunt outside to the van . . . all thoughts of Gwen and Paul and Calvin pushed aside.

As he ground coffee beans and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, John knew he’d never felt more alone. He felt torn between two worlds, and two choices. Jayne Donovan, and her English life. Her flirty glances, her humor, the way she smiled when she talked and seemed to care about everyone around her. Jayne was the type of woman he used to dream of having a relationship with when he was living on the farm and yearning for the excitement of the big city.

She was polished and beautiful and vibrant.

So much like Angela in some ways, but different, too. John knew Jayne was made of sterner stuff than Angela. She was stronger, more independent. Far less spoiled.

And he’d seen the flash of interest for him in her eyes. Instinctively, he knew she was waiting for him to ask her out. Waiting for him to call her.

Now that the coffee was brewing, he got to work organizing one of the bakery cases. A bank teller had come in early and bought three dozen donuts for her office. There’d been a line by the time she’d left, and he’d never had a chance to put things to right again.

Kneeling, he arranged the last of the donuts and let his mind drift back to his love life, such that it was.

Of course, Mary came to mind. The widow. The Amish widow. Oh, but his heart went out to her. She was trying so hard to take care of her boy. He, being twelve, was pulling away from her as quickly as possible.

Mary seemed to find joy in the simplest of things. She made him yearn to be more gentle, more patient, more giving than he’d ever felt in his entire life. When he was around Mary, he melted—there was no other word for it. She made him want to be a better person, to reach out to others more. To be kinder.

And, of course, he yearned to help her. He wanted to help with Abel. He wanted to be the person she could lean on, because he was coming to realize that Mary needed someone strong in her life, to help bear her burdens.

A pan clanked as he wiped it down and stacked it on the others he’d take into the kitchen later.

Just as the door to the shop opened. He almost cried in relief, especially when he saw who had wandered in. Visiting with his nephew would definitely take his mind off his problems. “Calvin. It’s good to see you. What brings you in?” He grabbed a plate. “Hungry?”

“Always.” Calvin grinned.

“I’ll get you a couple of donuts.”

“Thanks.” He paused. “Uncle John, the food sounds good, but I mainly just wanted to see you. Do you have time to talk?”

“I have nothing but time. Sit down.” Opening up the case, he pulled out a pair of plain cake donuts and poured two mugs full of the fresh-brewed coffee. “How are things? How’s my Katie?”

Calvin grimaced. “She tripped playing jump rope and somehow bit her lip. It’s swollen and red. Bled something awful.”

John tried to find the silver lining. “Perhaps she won’t be able to talk for a day or two?”

“We only got two hours’ break,” his nephew said with a laugh. “I’ll bring her in soon so you can admire her split lip. She’s terribly proud of it.”

“Oh, but your father would have enjoyed your sister’s scrapes.”

Calvin stilled. “You think so?”

“Of course. He loved a good laugh. And he got in a fair amount of trouble when he was young, too.”

“I thought he’d been perfect . . .”

“He was a good man. The best man I knew. But he wasn’t perfect, Calvin.” He paused. “No one is.”

Calvin frowned. “I’m definitely not.”

“What happened?”

“I betrayed a woman’s trust.”

“Lucy’s?”

“Jah.” He rolled his eyes. “I guess it’s obvious, huh?”

“A little.”

“Do you think I’m hopeless? I should be able to handle relationships better. Don’t you think? At my age?”

John couldn’t help laughing. “If the Lord gave us wisdom with age, we’d be in even more of a hurry to grow up! And to get old.”

“Are you having problems, too?”

“A little. I’m just trying to figure out where I fit in the world. That’s all.”

After he finished the cup of coffee, Calvin wiped his mouth and stood up. “Thanks, Onkle.”

“Did I help?”

“Definitely.”

“I’m glad.” Quickly, he went around the corner and pulled out a sack of donut holes. “Give these to Katie, would you? And tell her I hope she feels better.”

“I will,” Calvin said with a smile, then left.

John crossed his arms over his chest and tried to imagine what his life would be like if he was Amish again. If he was Amish, he could court Mary. Her sweet smile would surely make every day fresh and perfect.

But would he fit in again? Or would he still be standing on the outskirts, wanting other things?

Was someone like Jayne better suited to him? After all, she’d survived a divorce, too. And she was a caring, lovely woman—proving that it wasn’t just Amish women who reached out to others.

But if he chose Jayne, what would happen to Mary’s boy? Already, he felt something for him. And John had thought Mary had stopped by more frequently now.

There was definitely something between them—proving that desire and sparks were alive and well in the Amish community, too.

He sighed. What was he doing, anyway? It wasn’t like either woman was tapping her foot, waiting for a marriage proposal.

It just . . . felt like a decision needed to be made. He hoped the good Lord would give him some guidance sooner than later.