A Season of Change Page 24

  She stared at him and smiled. The Holy Spirit was hard at work. “I’ll come as often as I am able.”

  “Well, okay.” He lowered his hand. “I’m thinking maybe I should speak to some of that clergy you mentioned. I mean, let’s face it”—he frowned, his jowls looking lower since he’d lost so much weight in his face—“you ain’t really qualified to teach me about God. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. Like I said, you’re the holiest person I know. But I don’t think I better take any chances. You know what I mean? Those clergy people have training for this sort of thing. So, no offense or anything.”

  Esther bit her bottom lip and tried not to smile. “None taken. What religion do you prefer? Someone from the Baptist church? Methodist, Lutheran, Catholic . . . or another faith? I’m sure they have someone representing all of those.”

  He frowned. “Does it matter? Don’t they all have the same boss?” He pointed upward.

  “I suppose they do.” She stood up. “I’ll go find out who is available.”

  As she made her way to the nurses’ station, her heart was lighter. Gus might pass on, but he’d go with love—and the Lord—in his heart. Thank you, Gott.

  * * *

  Rose stared at the box wrapped in duct tape. She didn’t know where she’d dump it, but she didn’t want it in her possession anymore. She didn’t expect an apology from her mother. But that didn’t mean Rose still couldn’t forgive her—and her father—and rid herself of the bad feelings she’d clung to. Forgiving her parents was the only thing that would set her free.

  She took her pen and paper from the nightstand drawer.

  Dear Mamm (and Daed),

  I forgive you.

  Lieb, Rose

  As soon as she wrote the words, a burden began to lift as if the weight of her suffering was slowly shedding. Her pain wouldn’t go away overnight, and it might be a slow process, but forgiveness was love. She addressed the envelope to her mother and put a stamp on it, with plans to drop it in the mailbox. She would count on God to guide her to a place where she could get rid of the memories, unwilling to keep them under her bed where she might be tempted to read through her mother’s letters again.

  Please, dear Lord, please guide me to the perfect place, somewhere I can find freedom. Please show me the way to happiness without the demons of hate and bad will in my heart. I know Your will is to be done, but please point me in the right direction, not only by symbolically ridding myself of this box but also by discovering the direction I need to go in my life. Amen.

  She picked up the wooden box and the letter, raced down the stairs, then gasped.

  “Benjamin.” She froze. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was heading home from work, and”—he rubbed his chin—“I asked Gott how to fill the void in mei heart. And before I knew it, I was headed to The Peony Inn.”

  Rose couldn’t keep her eyes locked with his. She reminded herself that shame was the work of the devil, but she still felt draped in a black veil of indignity.

  “Did I catch you heading out somewhere?” He glanced at the box she held to her chest, along with a white envelope.

  “Uh . . . ya.” Rose began to tremble when he edged closer to her.

  “Is there anywhere I can take you? I’d like to talk to you.” Benjamin’s sober expression made Rose suspect he wanted to talk about the things Lizzie told him.

  “Benjamin, I’m sorry for the way I have behaved. And I’m humiliated that Lizzie talked to you. I just can’t face that conversation right now. I hope you understand.” She eased the box away from her chest. “I need to get rid of this box, and all I can say is that it is a part of mei own attempt to rid myself of the things that are causing me heartache.”

  “My heartache stems from not seeing the beautiful, lively Rose who I’ve grown to care about very much. I’m not here to talk about anything Lizzie said. I don’t care about anything that happened before we met, except that whatever it is, it’s hurting you. In that regard, I want to help.”

  She glared at the box. “I wish I could send this box to the bottom of the river.”

  Benjamin smiled. “I might be able to help you with that.”

  Rose tipped her head to one side. “What?”

  “If you’ll trust me and wait here, I need to make a phone call. This is one way I can help you, and we don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to.”

  The black veil was slipping off, and the peacefulness she felt in Benjamin’s presence was returning.

  * * *

  After she nodded, Benjamin went outside and kept going until he was far enough away that Rose couldn’t hear.

  “Captain Hanners, I know this is short notice, but I need a favor.” He explained about Rose and the box.

  “I’m an old man with nothing on my agenda. I’ll meet you down by the boat dock—the private one by my cabin.” He gave Benjamin directions to his place in Shoals, and after Benjamin thanked the man, he went back inside.

  Rose stood in the middle of the living room, her lips slightly parted, looking wary. “Where are we going?”

  “To dump that box in the deepest part of the river.”

  Her expression didn’t change. “I can’t just toss it from the bank. It will eventually float ashore.”

  “Not where we’re going.” He held out his hand to her. “Trust me.”

  Hesitantly, she took hold of his hand, the box back against her chest, along with the white envelope.

  “We can’t get there by buggy. We need a driver.”

  “Henry is usually available. We can check with him.” Her hand tightened around his. “Are you sure about this? Do you have time?”

  “I have all the time in the world. The question is”—he nodded to the taped-up container pressed against her chest—“are you sure about this?”

  “Very,” she said as she squeezed his hand.

  Henry arrived a few minutes later.

  They’d barely gotten into the van when Benjamin put an arm around her. She tensed at first, but relaxed into the nook of his shoulder and rested her head there. He kissed her on the forehead, and she snuggled closer to him, trembling. “Everything will be okay,” he whispered.

  After they turned down a steep road and passed a small cabin on the left, another road twisted downward toward the boat ramp. Captain Hanners was there in a long, narrow boat. It was red and white and had Sharon printed in big letters across the side.

  “You ready?” Benjamin winked at her.

  For the first time since he’d arrived at her house, her face came alive.

  The van door slid open. Benjamin stepped out first, then offered her his hand.

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she put her fingers to her lips and stared at the boat. “We’re going out on that?”

  “Ya, we are. To the deepest part of the river, as fast as you want to go.” A warm glow flowed through Benjamin when she bounced up on her toes. She tossed the letter onto the back seat of the van but still clung to the box. Her eyes slowly took on the twinkle he remembered. They would be combining the good with the bad today, but hopefully it would create balance for a new beginning.

  He struggled to keep up with her as they moved toward the boat ramp.

  “That’s a big boat. Does it go fast? I bet it does. It’s so long and narrow. That man is waving.” Rose waved back, as did Benjamin. “Is that the owner?” She glanced at Benjamin, smiling. “It does go fast, doesn’t it?”

  He grinned as he raised an eyebrow. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  She gazed into his eyes as they neared the boat, which was edging up to the bank. “Danki for this, for taking what could have been a very bad day for me and turning it into something special.”

  Benjamin wasn’t sure what was in the box, but if getting rid of it gave Rose a new lease on life, he was all for sinking it to the bottom of the river.

  “Hello, hello!” Captain Hanners threw Benjamin a line, and he gently pulled the boat close enough fo
r them to get in. “Climb aboard.”

  Benjamin had only met the man once at a fishing tournament. Benjamin’s people didn’t believe in competition, so he hadn’t entered. But he’d watched the men pulling fish up to fifty pounds out of their boats. Captain Hanners had come in second place with a forty-seven-pound channel catfish. But it was the man’s exuberance and friendly smile that made him perfect for this outing.

  “I can’t believe you did this,” Rose said as Benjamin helped her into the boat. She gasped. “What’s down there?” She pointed to a small door in the middle of the boat.

  “That’s where I sleep when I stay overnight.” Captain Hanners was probably in his sixties. He was a small man with a large personality, and he sported a baseball cap atop his salt-and-pepper hair that had Good Things Come to Those Who Bait etched across it. “Pretty lady, I’m told you want to take a fast ride.”

  Rose’s face lit up. “Ya, ya, I do.”

  “I can take this baby from zero to sixty in about fifteen seconds and hit eighty miles per hour on a day without much wind.” The captain lifted up one of the long seats that faced forward. “First things first.” He handed each of them a life vest to slip on, and he buckled himself into one also. “So, how fast do you want to go?”

  “As fast as you can!” Rose had never looked more beautiful in her bright-red life vest, dark-green dress, and brown eyes twinkling with specks of gold every time a sunray caught her face just right.

  Captain Hanners nodded to the box Rose still had clung to her chest. “I’m told you have some other business to tend to. Would you like to do that first?”

  Rose’s expression fell as she sighed. “Ya, I think I would, if you don’t mind.”

  “All righty. We’ll take her at a nice steady pace to a spot plenty deep.” He took off his cap and scratched his head. “It’s so deep that even I don’t know how deep it is.” His shoulders went up and down as he laughed. Benjamin thought again how Captain Hanners was the perfect choice for this excursion.

  “Sit anywhere you please.” He waved an arm around. There was a long seat in the back, two others on either side of the narrow boat, and a passenger seat next to where the captain would sit. “But I can tell you, the best ride is up here next to me, if you ain’t afraid of the wind in your face.”

  Benjamin smiled. “Well?”

  She set the box on the floor near one of the side seats, so Benjamin followed her. Rose put a hand on his chest. “Are you kidding? We’re not sitting back here.” She tied the strings of her prayer covering under her chin. Benjamin had always wondered about the purpose of the strings since none of the women ever tied them.

  “Now I know what those strings are for.” Benjamin chuckled. “Fast boat rides.”

  Rose laughed as she made her way to the passenger seat.

  “Best place for you is right behind her.” Captain Hanners patted the dash. “And both of you hold on right here.”

  Benjamin aligned himself like Captain Hanners instructed, and the feel of Rose’s back against his chest, along with the smell of her lavender shampoo, was intoxicating. After they took care of this important task, he hoped they would find their way back to each other.

  * * *

  Rose breathed in the musty smell of the river on a hot day as a few beads of sweat trailed down her face. But when the boat picked up speed, the wind became a fan, cooling her off as they set out across the large body of water. She could feel Benjamin’s breath against her neck as he pressed up against her, his muscular arms enclosing her in a safe haven in front of the passenger seat. It touched her, more than she knew how to say, that he had arranged this.

  When the boat began to slow down, Captain Hanners cut the engine and tossed an anchor over the side. Then there was a hum that sounded like a generator coming from below.

  “I’ll be down in my cubbyhole enjoying a little AC while you two take care of business. The Lord’s blessings be with you.”

  After the small door had closed behind Captain Hanners, Rose stared at the box on the floor. “He probably thinks I’m out here scattering the ashes of someone deceased.” She lifted the box to her chest. “Maybe in some ways I am.” She paused, glancing at Benjamin. “They are letters from mei mudder.” Maybe she would explain later, but for now, that felt like enough. Benjamin just nodded.

  Rose carried her box of memories, the reminders her mother had drummed into her head about never finding a husband, talking too much, being a bad girl when she was a child, and so much more. As she held the box over the side of the boat, she prayed silently.

  Dear God, with this symbolic act, I pray that these memories will not prevent me from having a good life that You will choose for me. I pray that the bad thoughts and pain in my heart will be forever gone, replaced with love and forgiveness. In Your name, Jesus, I pray.

  She let go of the box and watched the river take it away, then slowly, water found its way around the duct tape and seeped in beneath the loosely fitting lid as her memories began to sink. Then they were gone.

  She locked eyes with Benjamin. “I owe you so many explanations—about everything. About mei past, mei fears, the way I treated you . . .”

  He tenderly put a finger to her lips. “Nee, you don’t owe me explanations about any of that. You can tell me at some point—or not. It’s up to you. But you do owe me something else.”

  She couldn’t read his expression as her heart pounded against her chest. “What?” she said in a whisper.

  “You owe me an opportunity to love you.” He cupped her face as he pulled her close to him. She quivered at the sweet tenderness of his kiss, but all the passion of their earliest kisses was there, even more so. “Can you give me that?” he asked in a whisper, his breath warm against her neck as he kissed her there.

  “Ya, but”—she felt him stiffen—“only if I’m given the opportunity to love you back.”

  Smiling, he said, “I think I can agree to that.”

  After they made up for lost time, he asked, “Are you ready to go from zero to sixty in fifteen seconds?”

  She laughed. “I’m ready.”

  They summoned their captain, and he started the boat and told them to hold on tight.

  “You ready?” Benjamin asked again as he stepped behind her and enclosed her within his arms.

  She pressed her cheek to his as adrenaline and joy met up to form an emotion she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Peace. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 23

  Esther pressed a cold rag to Gus’s forehead. Over the past two weeks, he had been running a low intermittent fever, and twice Esther thought he was leaving this world. But Gus always came back, fighting to stay alive, and sometimes he was in tremendous pain.

  “He doesn’t even look like himself,” Lizzie said in a whisper from where she stood on one side of the bed. “He’s lost so much weight, and he’s all yellowy looking.”

  Esther sat down in the chair she’d been camped out in for the past ten days. The others came and went, but Esther and Lizzie had sought the bishop’s approval to stay in a hotel within walking distance of the hospital. Lizzie gave blood for the last time a few days ago, but she’d chosen to stay on for the duration. The doctors said all they could do was to keep Gus comfortable. A member of clergy from a nondenominational church came to see him daily. Esther always left when he arrived, but she often heard the pastor and Gus praying together on her way in or out of the room.

  Lizzie came to the room for a short while each day, but Esther sat with Gus for hours. When the time came, she didn’t want him to be alone. It was quite possible he would pass away in the middle of the night, but she wanted to give him as much of her time as she could. Most days, he was coherent, but he slept a lot. Each day, when the doctor made his rounds, he seemed surprised that Gus was still with them. “He’s a fighter,” Dr. Gilmore would say. Esther worried that Gus was fighting because he was afraid. She wondered if she would be scared when her time came. Would a strong faith be enough to avoid fe
ar? She didn’t want the voice of God blocked due to that unwanted emotion.

  “I have got to take a break.” Esther lifted herself from the small chair and stretched her arms.

  “We can go to the cafeteria,” Lizzie said as she shuffled toward the door.

  “Nee. You stay here with Gus.” Esther’s sister never stayed in the room alone.

  Lizzie’s jaw dropped. “What if he croaks while you’re gone? Or what if he wakes up and finds just me here?” She pointed to the machines next to Gus’s bed. “All those machines are sure to start beeping like crazy if he sees only me in here.”

  “Boo!”

  Lizzie practically jumped into Esther’s arms, and even Esther had a blast of adrenaline shoot through her veins.

  “Gus, don’t do that.” Esther scowled at him. “We about jumped out of our skins.”

  He took in a long, deep breath. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Just her.” He nodded at Lizzie. His words were soft and so different from the bellowing voice they were used to. But he grinned at Lizzie.

  “I need to stretch mei legs. Lizzie is going to stay here with you. Try to be civil to each other. I won’t be gone long.” Esther trudged out the door. Every step felt heavier than the last. As she got on the elevator to go down to the cafeteria, she recalled when Joe was sick, not long before he died. Gus was getting close, but she didn’t think he was quite there yet. Esther figured they had days, not weeks. She thought again about Gus dying alone, but Esther couldn’t sleep in his room. Even if they brought in a cot, her back couldn’t take that. She was having enough trouble staying strong enough to sit with him for hours every day. But the timing was in God’s hands. Esther had repeatedly asked Gus if she could inform his daughter about his condition. His answer was an adamant no each time. Finally, he admitted to Esther that he went to visit his daughter not long after he’d given her the money from his small part in the movie. “She didn’t want anything to do with me,” he told her. When Esther had argued that his daughter—Heather—should at least be notified of his condition, Gus made her promise not to contact her. Esther was glad Gus had made an attempt to see Heather, but sad that Heather hadn’t given him an opportunity to be in her life.