The pretender, p.26
The Pretender, page 26
“You’ll see. There’s a gathering next Sunday night. I’ll come by your place around five to pick you up, so you’d better be ready on time.” Noah whirled around and sashayed out the door before Susan could form a single word.
“Who does that guy think he is, anyway?” Susan muttered when the door shut behind him.
“What guy?” Norman asked as he approached from the back of the store.
“Noah Esh.” Susan pressed both arms tightly against her thighs. “Can you believe he asked me to go to a singing with him next Sunday evening?”
Norman opened his mouth and released a round of laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
He pointed at her. “If you could see your red cheeks and the flustered expression on your face, you’d understand the reason I laughed.”
“Well, there’s nothing humorous about it.”
“Did you agree to go with him?”
She shook her head. “Not hardly, but he didn’t take no for an answer. In fact, Noah said he’d be by our place to pick me up around five next Sunday evening.”
“I guess you’d better be ready, then. Sure don’t want to keep the nice fellow waiting.” Norman put his hand over his mouth, as though to hide the snicker that Susan heard anyway.
What should I do? Susan questioned herself. If I hide out in the house and refuse to go with Noah when he comes to pick me up, the news will spread like wildfire that Susan Petersheim is unsociable, and then Dad will hear about it and get on my case. Susan pinched the bridge of her nose while squeezing her eyes shut. And if I go to the singing with Noah, people might think I’m his girlfriend. It was a no-win situation, and Susan only had until a week from tomorrow to make up her mind about what she should do.
New York City
Anthony had only been home from work a few hours when a knock sounded on his apartment door. He was tired and didn’t feel up to company, so he was tempted not to answer. But his curiosity got the best of him. When he opened the door, Cindy Duncan stood in the hall, wearing faded blue jeans and a T-shirt of the same color. Cindy held a cardboard box in her hands.
“I hope you haven’t eaten supper yet,” she said with a dimpled smile. “I made too much chicken-and-rice casserole, and thought it would be nice to share it with someone. Oh, and I also have a tossed green salad and some brownies for dessert.”
Anthony was tempted to say no thanks, but his empty, rumbling stomach won out. He could have grabbed a bite at the fast food place where he worked, but nothing on the menu there appealed. Never mind that he’d had his hand in cooking everything from hot dogs with sauerkraut to burgers cooked on the grill. Something different for supper would be nice for a change—especially when he hadn’t been involved in making it.
“No, I haven’t eaten yet,” Anthony answered. “I just got home from work.” He held the door open for her. “Come on in, and thanks for thinking of me.”
The shapely blond strode across the room and entered his small but well-equipped kitchen. She placed the box on the counter and quickly removed the contents.
“Guess I should get busy and set the table.” Anthony hurriedly got out two plates, silverware, glasses, and napkins, which he promptly placed on the table. Steam escaped from the casserole, indicating that it was still warm, and his stomach growled as he inhaled the tantalizing aroma. “If it tastes as good as it smells, guess I’m in for a treat.”
Cindy offered Anthony another friendly smile as she placed the casserole dish on a hot pad Anthony had placed in the middle of the table. After she set out the salad and he poured purified water into their glasses, they took seats opposite each other.
As though he’d been doing it his whole life, Anthony automatically closed his eyes and bowed his head. After a short silent prayer, he lifted his head and looked up, surprised to see her staring at him with raised brows.
“Were you praying?” she asked with her head angled slightly to one side.
“Yep. It’s something I started doing while staying for a while with an Amish family in Mifflin County, Pennsylvania, a few months ago.” He reached for his glass of water and took a drink. “They pray silently before every meal.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“How come?”
“You mean why do they pray, or why do they do it silently?”
“Both. Seems kind of strange to me.”
Anthony blotted his lips with the napkin next to his plate. “Well, they pray to thank God for the food on the table, and I suppose they pray about some other things too.” He paused to drink some more water. “I guess the reason it’s done silently is so that others at the table don’t know what each of them is praying about.”
She rolled her pretty blue eyes. “That does seems odd.”
Anthony made no comment as he dished himself some of the casserole and passed the serving dish to Cindy.
She smiled and leaned closer to him. “So my next question is, why were you staying with an Amish family?”
Anthony wasn’t comfortable telling Cindy the reason he’d stayed with the Petersheims, and he wasn’t about to go into the story of pretending to be Rosa’s husband. So to satisfy her curiosity and end the topic quickly, he said in a casual voice, “Oh, I just thought it would be interesting to observe an Amish family’s way of life. I learned a lot about their cooking methods too.”
“Oh, I see.” Cindy looked away for a few seconds while dishing up some salad, and then she passed the bowl to Anthony. As he put some on his plate, he noticed that the leafy greens were covered with some kind of salad dressing he didn’t recognize. Anthony was about to ask what kind it was when Cindy spoke again.
“So what exactly did you learn while observing the Amish people’s way of life? Did they eat by candlelight, and was there an outhouse out back?”
He shook his head. “I guess there are some Amish communities that are very Plain and might live that way, but this group that drives black-topped buggies is a little more progressive than that.”
“I watched a documentary on TV once about some Amish people who live in the backwoods of Kentucky.” Cindy wrinkled her nose like some foul odor had permeated the room. “I could never live without modern conveniences. Could you?”
“Well, I did, and it wasn’t too bad, and maybe if I’d been raised in an Amish home, I would never have missed what the world has to offer in the way of modern technology.”
She snickered while shaking her head. “Not me. I’d never make it without all the modern conveniences.”
“I bet you could if you had to.”
“Nope. Think I’d have to run away from home if I was forced to live like a pioneer woman.”
Cindy had touched on a nerve when she’d mentioned running away from home, and a vision of Rosa came to mind. Had she left her home in Belleville because she wanted modern conveniences, or did it have more to do with a rebellious streak? During the time Anthony had lived in her parents’ home, Rosa had seemed content. She’d even put on her Amish garb when attending church and a few other events. Anthony had a hunch that she planned to join the Amish church.
As much as he hated to admit it, Anthony missed Rosa and thought about her frequently. He wondered if she ever thought about him, but if she did, why hadn’t she returned any of his calls?
When Cindy clinked her glass with the handle of her fork, Anthony’s thoughts about Rosa ended.
“You looked like you were someplace else for a few minutes,” she said. “Am I a boring supper companion?”
“Certainly not.” Anthony picked up his fork and dived into the food on his plate. Maybe a little more eating and a little less talking would be the best thing all the way around. Too much thinking about Rosa might give Anthony the stupid notion that he should jump on his motorcycle sometime when he had two days off in a row and head back to Mifflin County just to see how Rosa was doing. But most likely that wasn’t going to happen, because really, what would be the point?
CHAPTER 33
ROSA HAD BEEN TOSSING AND turning for nearly an hour, but she couldn’t find a comfortable position and had been unable to fall asleep. The baby had been kicking a lot too, and Rosa’s back ached. She’d resigned herself to the fact that she probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.
Guess I may as well get used to this, Rosa told herself. Once my little one is born, I’ll no doubt be up several times during the night, feeding the baby and doing diaper changes. I hope the baby’s crying won’t keep my parents awake. With Dad getting up early every morning to do chores and go to the store to work five days a week, not to mention rising early for Sunday church services, he needs to get good-quality sleep.
Rosa sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. A cramp in her right leg meant the other leg would likely cramp up soon too. Knowing the best way to deal with it was to get up and walk around the room until it subsided, that’s exactly what she did.
It was hard to believe it was the second week of May already, and with Rosa’s due date only a few weeks away, even if the baby came a little early Rosa was sure it would be fine. Her large belly that had dropped considerably was an indication that the infant was getting ready to meet the world. Rosa figured the baby might make his or her appearance on or even before her due date.
After walking around the room long enough to release the leg cramp, Rosa ambled over to the window, lifted the shade, and looked out. The night sky was as black as ink, and a bright, full moon set among twinkly stars gave the appearance of a picture postcard Rosa had bought once on her travels and sent home to her parents. She’d included a note telling them where she was and assuring Mom and Dad that she was okay and would write or call again soon. Rosa was still perplexed that no one in the family had acknowledged receiving any written messages or phone calls from her during the two-plus years she’d been gone. It didn’t add up, and she felt sure that someone had received those messages and had not owned up to it.
Rosa tapped one of her bare feet against the cold hardwood floor. Surely if Mom or Dad had received my messages, they would have admitted to that. And if Mom had known I was doing okay, she wouldn’t have been so worried about me and gotten sick from not knowing what had happened to me.
She touched the cold window glass with the palms of her hands and shivered. Someone must have discovered my messages and destroyed them. But who, and more importantly, why? Could it have been Dad? Would he have been so angry at me for leaving home that he would have kept my whereabouts from Mom and the rest of the family?
Rosa shook her head. I don’t think so. Dad would never be that cruel—especially to Mom. I’m sure Alvin wouldn’t have done it either. He’s just a kid, and when I returned home, he said that he’d missed me. Same thing with Tena. The two of us have always gotten along.
Despite the chilly room, Rosa felt a sheen of sweat erupt on her face. I bet it was Susan. She and I never saw eye to eye on much of anything, and out of everyone in the family, she’s been the coldest toward me since I returned home. Sometimes she seems almost hostile.
Rosa moved away from the window and took a seat on the edge of her bed. I wonder how it would go if I came right out and confronted Susan about it—asked if she hid my letters and postcards and deleted my messages from phone calls. Would she deny it or admit that she was responsible?
Rosa clutched the part of the quilt on her bed that almost hung down to the floor. I’ve put it off long enough. When I feel that the time is right, I’m going to have a serious talk with Susan.
After Rosa climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, her thoughts changed direction. Once more, she focused on the future. If she continued to live here with her folks, it would be necessary to join the Amish church. That would probably be the best thing for her and the baby.
What should I name my little one if I end up having a girl? she wondered. Or what’s a good name if it’s a boy? Although Mom had brought the topic up a few times, Rosa had no idea what to call the child. If the baby turned out to be a boy, Rosa would certainly not name him after his biological father. Even thinking about the relationship she’d had with a married man made Rosa feel sick to her stomach. She had asked God to forgive her for the sin she had committed, but it had been hard for Rosa to forgive herself. She knew it did no good to keep beating herself up over her transgression. It was in the past, and she had turned over a new leaf, committing her life to the Lord.
Rosa thought about Anthony, as she often did. She hoped things were going well for him. It was a good thing they hadn’t established a relationship that went deeper than friendship, because it never could have worked out between them. Rosa would be joining the Amish church, and she felt sure that Anthony could never be one with the Plain people. He’d been raised differently, with all the modern conveniences, which would be difficult to give up.
“Enough thinking now,” Rosa murmured. “It’s time for me to leave my concerns in God’s hands.”
She closed her eyes and prayed for Anthony, as well as each member of her family, until she finally drifted off to sleep.
New York City
Anthony had gone to bed around eleven o’clock, but unable to fall asleep, he’d gotten up and made his way out to his favorite reclining chair in the living room. The Bible he’d found in his duffel bag still lay on the small table next to the chair, and he picked it up, certain that there was a lot more to learn inside the pages of this interesting book.
After leafing through several pages in the Old Testament again, Anthony discovered a strip of paper tucked inside the book of Proverbs. In chapter 3, verses 5 and 6 had been underlined. He read them out loud. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.”
Last night Anthony had read John 3:16–17, and he’d taken those verses to heart. In verse 16, Anthony had substituted his own name to replace the word whoever, making it read: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that if Anthony believes in Him, he should not perish but have everlasting life.”
Still holding the Bible in his hands, Anthony bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Dear Lord, I do believe in You. Please help me to trust You in all things. I ask, Lord, that You will guide and direct my path in the days ahead and give me the wisdom to make good decisions.”
Anthony was beginning to realize why Rosa must have felt it necessary to put a Bible in his duffel bag, and he appreciated it more than she would ever know. Or if it wasn’t Rosa who had done it, then he owed a debt of thanks to whoever had put the one true book there.
Anthony closed the Bible, set it back on the table, and stretched his arms over his head. He felt both rejuvenated and peaceful.
“Think I’m ready now to head on back to bed.” Anthony was fairly certain that he could sleep peacefully, but he also knew that when he woke up in the morning, he’d have some important decisions to make.
Belleville
Sunday morning, as Susan sat beside Tena, it was hard to keep her focus on the song the congregation was singing from the Ausbund. She tried not to look across at the men’s section of the building, where Noah Esh sat with some other young men his age. She still couldn’t believe he had come into her father’s store last week and boldly invited her to go to the young people’s singing with him this evening.
What in the world was Noah thinking? Susan wondered, clasping the hymnal tightly in her hands. Surely it couldn’t be because he is interested in me. No, that would be ridiculous, especially after I’ve made it abundantly clear to anyone who will listen that I have no interest in getting married or even dating. I’m sure by now the news has spread from one end of Mifflin County to the other that Susan Petersheim plans to remain single for the rest of her life.
The words blurred on the page before her as Susan toyed with the idea of hiding upstairs in the room she shared with Tena when five o’clock came around. Susan figured it would be easy enough to fake a headache and ask Tena or Mom to let Noah know that she wasn’t up to going to the singing. Jah, that would be the best way, all right. I just hope Mom doesn’t insist that I take an aspirin and go to the event anyway. Both she and Dad are always after me to take part in some of the young people’s activities.
Tena bumped Susan’s arm and whispered, “We’re done singing now and the first sermon’s about to begin, so you’d better pay attention and quit staring off into space.”
Susan flinched as a warm flush crept across her cheeks. She handed her hymnal to Tena, who passed it to the next person in line, a process that continued until every Ausbund had been picked up and put away.
Henry Graber, a visiting minister, stood up and began to preach. He stated that his sermon was on the subject of lying and that he would share what God’s Word had to say about the issue.
Susan squirmed on the backless wooden bench she sat upon. This was not a topic she wished to hear about. But what choice did she have, unless she got up and went out to use the restroom? If she did that, she would draw attention to herself, and she didn’t relish that idea either.
Susan tried to focus on something else, like the back of the young girl’s head in front of her, but it was no use. The minister, with his booming voice, quoted scripture after scripture, and each one pierced Susan’s soul like a two-edged sword. One passage in particular, Proverbs 6:16–19, really spoke to her heart.
“These six things the Lord hates,” Minister Graber quoted. “Yes, seven are an abomination to Him: a proud look, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that are swift in running to evil, a false witness who speaks lies, and one who sows discord among brethren.”
Henry paused a few seconds, as if to let his words sink in, before continuing. “Proverbs 25:18 says, ‘A man who bears false witness against his neighbor is like a club, a sword, and a sharp arrow.’ From this we should safely conclude that God hates lying in any form. He hates it because our heavenly Father is the source of all truth.”
