Holding a Tender Heart Page 2

  Debbie took a moment to answer. “I don’t know if I can, Doug. There will be a lot going on with me…you know…graduating.”

  His voice hesitated. “Debbie, are you seeing someone else? Is that why you’re avoiding me?”

  She laughed. “No, of course not! Who would want to see me?” Maybe that was a bit over the top, but right now that was how she felt. No one, including Doug, would want to be with her if they knew what she was really like. He’d hung around for a year or so now, taking her out on occasional dates. He said he wanted a deeper relationship, but she had stalled.

  Debbie pressed the phone harder against her ear. Doug must have said something she hadn’t caught because she could hear irritation as he asked, “Debbie, are you still there?”

  She cleared her throat. “Yes, just thinking.”

  “What’s so hard about going out with me?” he teased. “I’m a nice guy. Surely you know that by now. You’d enjoy yourself.”

  “Okay.” Debbie sighed. “Where shall it be?” She sounded like she was giving in, and Doug would count chickens where they didn’t exist, but that couldn’t be helped.

  Doug’s voice brightened. “How about somewhere where we can talk? Perhaps Andrea’s Pizzeria? At six on Saturday night?”

  She didn’t hesitate this time. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” When they hung up, Debbie wondered if it was fair to not just tell him flat out they had no future together. But how did one say, “It’s not going to work for us” face-to-face…or, worse, over the phone? And yet she did care about Doug. He was nice, but…

  Her mind went back to last spring. She’d caught sight of a young Amish man as he cultivated his corn crop, and she’d felt…drawn to him. But was it to him or to his Amish life? She’d seen him again during the summer and had experienced the same feelings as she watched him cut his hay. Then in the fall, she’d seen him hauling manure. His spreader had bounced across the rough, plowed ground. By then she knew his name was Alvin Knepp.

  He was, as far as she knew, unmarried. She’d heard his father was the poorest Amish farmer around. “The Knepps,” Lois had said, “are poor in both farming methods and in money.” But Debbie didn’t care about those things. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted to get away from? Was that why she often caught herself daydreaming about a certain Amish man?

  Alvin exuded a rugged goodness that drew her heart in a way she didn’t understand. And she didn’t even know him! She’d had only fleeting glimpses every so often. What would it be like to speak to him? Debbie drew in her breath at the thought. Alvin wore a tattered and torn hat most of the time. Maybe that was all he could afford. Either way, he made a striking figure as he worked. How he appeared on Sundays she didn’t know, having never attended an Amish church service. But it couldn’t be worse than on workdays. Likely he cleaned up well. She laughed at the thought. What did it matter? He was clearly out of her reach.

  How on earth was she supposed to tell Doug all that? He would think her insane, and he would probably be right. Somehow she needed to get past this fascination with a life that could never be hers.

  Two

  The next morning Debbie slept in later than usual. She arose to find that both of her parents had already left for work. After a leisurely breakfast, she changed into her gray-striped dress, affecting what she hoped was a classy business look for her job interview. She smiled at the irony that this clerical job was one she might have been able to get even without a college degree. Why did she even go to college!

  The thought still rankled. Her mother’s fingerprints were on all the major decisions of her life. “Purpose, my girl!” mother would say if she were here—just as she had during Debbie’s four years of college. The truth was that getting a job and looking classy weren’t the goals Debbie had in mind for herself. She glanced at her watch and shot up from the breakfast table. She couldn’t be late for this interview! That would not go down well with Mr. Fulton, much less her parents.

  Debbie tried to dull the stab of regret with a final rush through the house. She grabbed her keys and forced herself outside and into the car. She pulled out of the driveway and drove above the speed limit for the first mile. The trip into Lewistown soon slowed to a crawl as the traffic increased and cars had to make their way around the occasional buggy and horse clip-clopping along the side of the road. Since she was late, this should stir her angst, but it didn’t. She felt more relaxed the more buggies she passed. They reminded her that the world she lived in wasn’t all that important. Seen from the inside of a buggy, life passed in slow motion. The fields inched past buggy doors. Time stretched out, it seemed, and took its time to go by. Debbie smiled at the thought of how the Amish, despite their slow pace, seemed to have more time than anyone else. They savored each hour. They never seemed to rush about like she was at the moment.

  She swung deftly around another buggy. She glanced at the horse as she went past. The animal plodded on with its nose close to the ground, looking tired from the uphill climb. She waved to the young woman and child inside. The woman responded with a smile and a wave. Who they were, Debbie had no idea. The Snyder County Amish Church Districts were spread over the long valley, and no one knew everyone, even among the Amish. The Amish had the time and the confidence to wave back—even to strangers. Debbie liked that.

  Debbie fought the traffic for several more minutes and eventually arrived at the warehouse buildings of Destiny Relocation Services. They were the local branch of a national chain of movers that had more than 250 outlets in the United States. What an appropriate name for my first job Debbie thought as she parked her car. Destiny! Was this hers?

  Mr. Fulton probably hoped people would find the company’s name a comfort as he hauled their belongings across the country. Perhaps the name suggested that destiny had played a hand literally and divinely in a major and, no doubt, unsettling life experience. Perhaps she could also find purpose and meaning here. Wouldn’t that be something?

  Debbie entered the front door and gave her name to the young woman at the desk.

  “Mr. Fulton will be with you in a moment,” the woman told her with a smile. “I’m Rhonda Clemens.”

  “Good to meet you!” Debbie returned the smile and then took a seat in the small waiting room. Moments later Mr. Fulton appeared. “Hello, Debbie. Glad you could come in today.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Fulton.” Debbie stood. “I’m sorry I’m a little late. I hadn’t counted on the traffic.”

  “Ah, what does it matter for today?” Mr. Fulton waved her in. “You’re the only interview I’ve scheduled this morning. So let’s see what we can do for you. Please have a seat.” Mr. Fulton motioned toward a chair. “How are your parents?”

  “They’re fine,” Debbie replied as she sat down.

  Mr. Fulton beamed. “Good, good. So I hear you’re graduating this weekend? From Franklin & Marshall?”

  Debbie nodded.

  “Fine old school. I see you majored in sociology and anthropology. You earned good grades, I assume.”

  Debbie nodded. “An ‘A’ average I hope, but I haven’t gotten my final grades for this semester.”

  “Now, now,” Mr. Fulton chided, “don’t be modest about it. I wouldn’t expect anything else from Herbert Watson’s daughter.” He grinned. “What are your plans this summer?”

  “Working, I hope.”

  “Anything beyond that? Any vacation plans?”

  What was she supposed to say? Debbie wondered. No doubt Mr. Fulton expected answers like a Disney World trip or a church mission outing. Perhaps travel out West, a vacation in Yellowstone, or spending time in the Bitterroot Mountains. None of which she’d planned. What she really wanted was a summer spent on the Beiler farm where she’d get up at five o’clock each morning, eat breakfast as part of the large family, and then help with chores. But if she gave that kind of an answer, Mr. Fulton would probably turn her down on the spot.

  “I’m staying in the area,” she told him.

  “Well, you m
ight wish to spread your wings a little next year,” Mr. Fulton offered. “Our company offers two-weeks paid vacation time. That’s enough to get most anywhere folks wish to go.”

  Debbie found nothing to say in reply, so she just smiled and nodded.

  Mr. Fulton went on. “I’ve looked over your application and, of course, knowing your parents, I have no qualms about your ability to do a good job here. The job is yours…if you want it.”

  “Yes, I do want it! That’s very kind. Thank you, Mr. Fulton!”

  “Well then, that’s just fine. When can you start?”

  “Whenever you wish! Sometime after this week, I guess.” Debbie searched for more words to say. The interview had been so short, and she hadn’t expected to be hired on the spot.

  “Fantastic!” Mr. Fulton glowed. “How about next Tuesday then? You’ll have your own office in the back. Sally Wells, from billing, will give you the basic training you’ll need.”

  “Thank you so much!” Debbie gave Mr. Fulton her best smile. A little rush of joy ran through her. Her first full-time job!

  Mr. Fulton rose. “Give my regards to your parents. I’ll see you at eight o’clock on Tuesday. Don’t run late now. Work begins at eight o’clock sharp.”’

  “I’ll be here!” Debbie said as she rose and offered her hand. “And thank you again, Mr. Fulton.”

  “You’re welcome, Debbie. Glad we can take you on. You’ll do well with us, I’m sure.”

  Mr. Fulton showed her to the lobby. As she went past the front desk, Rhonda gave her a little wave. Debbie waved back and smiled. Next week she’d be a part of this place. Her destiny, no doubt! It warmed her heart yet also left an emptiness inside. Perhaps she expected too much from life. Perhaps she was being idealistic. A job was a job, and she was thankful to be able to earn a living. Interest in the work would no doubt grow as time went on.

  As Debbie drove back toward Beaver Springs, an idea formed. She ought to celebrate! But with whom? Mom was at work, and so was Dad. Either of them would go out to eat with her tonight if she asked—tired though they’d be from their day’s work. But no, there must be a better idea. Debbie thought the matter over for a moment. Yes, there were people she could celebrate with—if she dared.

  Would the Beilers think her crazy if she stopped by for lunch? No, if there was a danger of that, it would have happened years ago. They were always glad to see her. For this moment, at least, she would pursue her dream. She would step into an Amish home and relish the feel of it. Lois and her mom, Saloma, might only have sandwiches ready for a quick bite to eat, but they would have plenty, and that would be enough.

  Debbie drove faster and whipped her car around a few buggies. Now she was the one who buzzed past the slow-moving vehicles as she dashed around another buggy on Route 522. She pressed on, and a few minutes before twelve turned in at the Beilers’ lane. She brought her car to a stop beside the buggies parked near the barn. There was no sign of anyone around, but that only meant they were inside the house or in the barn hard at work. Everyone was home. She knew the buggies well enough to figure that out.

  Debbie climbed out of her car, walked up to the front door, and knocked.

  Verna opened the door and wrapped her arms around Debbie’s neck. “Ach, it’s so gut to see you again! You haven’t been by in a long time.” Verna let go and stepped back. “I had begun to think you’d forsaken us.”

  Debbie laughed and stepped inside. “If you only knew! I’ve been busy, what with graduation this weekend and…”

  “Oh!” Lois gasped from the kitchen doorway, her face almost glowing. “That’s so wunderbah, Debbie. A real college education! You ought to be so happy you can’t sleep at night.”

  “It’s not that big a deal, Lois, really,” Debbie said. But by the look on Lois’s face, Debbie could see she wasn’t convinced. As usual, Lois thought all things Englisha were the best things that could happen to a person.

  Ida stuck her head through the kitchen doorway. “Hi, Debbie! You’re just in time for lunch.”

  “I hoped you’d say that,” Debbie admitted. “I’ve missed you all.”

  “So tell me about the college thing.” Lois’s face still glowed.

  Debbie winced. “Like I said, it’s not that big a deal, Lois. At graduation we all wear hats with tassels, some professors make speeches, we get our diplomas, and we go home. Then it’s back to our normal lives.”

  “Oh, but that’s so wunderbah!” Lois said. “So it’s Saturday? May I come? I’d love to see the ceremony for myself.”

  Debbie hesitated. “I don’t know about that, Lois. Your parents, you know…”

  “I’ll convince them,” Lois said, though a tinge of doubt was in her voice.

  “I have more news!” Debbie said. “I just got my first full-time job!”

  Lois’s hands flew to her face. “Now I’m so jealous I could turn green, Debbie. A real job!”

  Debbie smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm. “Work away from home is not all it’s cooked up to be, I’m sure.”

  Lois didn’t appear convinced, but before she could say anything more, Saloma appeared.

  “Debbie!” she said. “Surely you’re staying for lunch? Or have you eaten already?”

  Debbie smiled. “I’d love to stay if you don’t mind.”

  “It would be a joy,” Saloma told her. “You’re almost part of the family, you know.”

  Oh, if that were only true! Debbie thought.

  Lois announced in a loud voice, “Debbie found her first job today, and she’s celebrating.”

  “That’s gut,” Saloma said. “I’m glad for you, Debbie.”

  Debbie knew that Amish women seldom worked outside their homes. She’d heard they sometimes worked during rumspringa, but she didn’t know if Saloma had done that. Except for rumspringa, the Beiler daughters would probably never work outside their community either. Saloma was congratulating her because she rejoiced with those who rejoiced. That was the kind of people the Beilers were. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m grateful to have a full-time job in this market.”

  “So why are we wasting time then?” Saloma waved her hands toward the kitchen. “Daett and Emery just got in the washroom, and the sandwiches and soup are ready.”

  “Come then!” Lois led Debbie to the kitchen table. Debbie slipped onto the back bench. This was her familiar spot since childhood on those occasions when she’d eaten with the Beiler family. Debbie felt a tear slip down her cheek. She really shouldn’t be this affected by a simple lunch. The emotion probably came because she’d thought too much about her future the past few days. And now she was thinking about her past at this house with this family. Since she was an adult with a job, there would probably be fewer occasions like this. No doubt meals with the Beilers would become just a memory in a few short years. Memories of the Beiler place would become ever more distant as the years rolled past. No wonder she was sad. She did the best she could to hide the tears. Who among the Beilers would understand such an emotion?

  “Hi, Debbie!” Bishop Beiler boomed as he came in through the washroom doorway. Water droplets still clung to his lengthy gray beard. “What a nice surprise.”

  “It’s good to see you too,” Debbie said.

  Emery nodded to her but didn’t say anything as he sat down. He was much like his older brothers. Mostly they ignored this Englisha friend of their sisters who appeared and disappeared at irregular intervals.

  Bishop Beiler stroked his moist beard. “Well, looks like we only have sandwiches and soup, but let’s give thanks nonetheless.”

  He only teased, Debbie knew, as they bowed their heads together for prayer. She reached up to wipe a stray teardrop on her cheek.

  Three

  On Saturday morning the sunlight filtered through the campus trees on the lawn of Franklin & Marshall, the rays falling on the rows of tasseled students. Debbie straightened her chair, pulling up on one leg that had dug into the dirt. She twisted sideways a fraction of an inch. If these speeches ke
pt on much longer, she would tip over and fall flat on her face. What a sight that would make on one’s graduation day.

  She glanced across the lawn and saw her mom and dad looking her way. They smiled and waved. They were thrilled with her accomplishment even if she wasn’t. Lois, seated beside them, absolutely beamed—almost as if this were her graduation. It was a miracle she was even here. Bishop Beiler had raised his eyebrows when Lois had asked him if she could attend the ceremony. Debbie thought she’d even seen a look of fear cross his face. She figured the bishop was worried that if he wasn’t flexible to some degree, his youngest daughter would defy his wishes, now that she was of age, and jump the fence into the Englisha world for good.

  The bishop had looked at Debbie for a moment before he seemed to relax.

  Did the sight of me comfort him? she wondered. Maybe he figured Lois was safe in her company. Maybe he hoped she’d be able to dim Lois’s rosy view of Englisha life. Debbie knew that was doubtful. Still, it did warm her heart. She—an Englisha girl—had the confidence of an Amish bishop on such a grave matter.

  Debbie jerked herself out of her thoughts. The president of Franklin & Marshall, Dr. Elmer Towers, had approached the podium. She turned her full attention to him. The professor had always impressed her as a man worthy of attention. At least in the brief contacts she’d had with him during the four years she’d attended classes.

  Dr. Towers cleared his throat away from the mike before he began to speak. “I welcome all of you today. This is a moment of great importance, not only for our students who graduate today, but for their families and our faculty. I give a heartfelt thanks to all who have played a part in the formation of the minds of this graduating class. To you, to our professors, to our staff, and to the relatives and friends gathered here, I give my congratulations.”

  As the crowd clapped, Debbie’s thoughts drifted. The Beiler family ought to receive thanks for her decent childhood. Her mom and dad had played their parts—very important parts, and she didn’t wish to belittle that—but in the depths of her soul unseen hands from the farm down the road had always been active. Those hands had molded her into a creature who didn’t fit into the world she lived in.