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Ray of Light: The Days of Redemption Series, Book Two Page 9
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Standing in front of a pile of sand toys, Amanda shook her head. “Regina, where did all of this . . . this stuff come from?”
“The stores, I think?” Regina said, completely serious.
Which, of course, made Amanda chuckle. That’s what she got for asking rhetorical questions of her very literal daughter.
“I think you might be right about that, dear. But I sure don’t know how we’re going to load everything in the van when the driver gets here.”
“When is he coming?” Regina plopped down on the top cement step and daintily crossed her bare feet in front of her.
“In about thirty minutes.”
Regina backed away with a fierce frown. “I sure wish he wasn’t.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we have to go back to our regular house.”
Regina spoke so dramatically, Amanda couldn’t resist teasing her a bit. “And you don’t care for our house anymore? You have a lovely room at home.”
“I like my room. . . . ” she said slowly, then closed up her mouth tight.
There was definitely more upsetting Regina than the end of a vacation. “What will you miss here?”
“Goldie.”
Ah, yes. That silly, adorable dog that had claimed all of their hearts with her happy manner and insatiable need to chase crabs. “I’ll miss Goldie, too.”
“She needs a home, Mamm.”
“I know. But . . . I just don’t think we’re ready to have Goldie at our house in town.”
“But I miss her.” Looking petulant, she said, “I’m going to miss the beach, too.”
“Ah, well, we’ll visit the beach soon.”
“I’m going to miss you, too.”
“Me?” Amanda looked at her in surprise. “Child, you’re making no sense. I’ll still be with you when we get home.”
“I know, Momma.” Regina turned away with a little nod, and a somewhat bleak, resigned look on her face.
Amanda couldn’t let that go. Brushing a wayward curl from her daughter’s forehead, she said, “Regina, tell me what you mean. I promise, I won’t get mad.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” She sat down on the step next to her little girl, thought about grasping her hand, but decided against it when she noticed how tightly Regina had her hands fisted together. “Please talk to me. Why do you think you won’t have me at home?”
“When you are home, you get sad.”
With effort, she attempted to hide the shock she felt. She’d tried so hard to keep her depression hidden. But obviously, she hadn’t been able to hide much. “Not so much anymore.”
Regina shook her head. “It’s true. You do. And you don’t laugh as much.”
“Well, that is to be expected. I’m working and taking care of you and our home. That’s a lot to do. But we’re still together a lot.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
Amanda was about to argue that point, but decided to hold her tongue. After all, she knew what her daughter meant. Things were different in their “regular” lives. She did work a lot, and she was pretty much tired all the time, too. “I’ll try to be better.”
“Uh-huh.” Her daughter squirmed a bit. Poked at a roving ant with her big toe.
Amanda watched her, wondering what else she could say that would reduce her worries but wouldn’t get her hopes up too much.
Because, well, things would be different when they got home again.
Looking bored with the ant, Regina sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Momma, I liked Roman.”
Amanda stilled. At first it felt like that comment came out of nowhere, but she was starting to realize that Regina was finally feeling comfortable enough to speak her mind, and this was what was on her mind. “I liked Roman, too. But he had to go back to his own home in Ohio.”
“I wish he was still here.”
“I know, dear.” Amanda drew a breath, ready to end this barrage of wistful thinking.
But Regina interrupted her thoughts. “You smiled when you were with him. A lot. And he made me smile, too.”
Yes, there were lots of things to like about that man. And many things she was going to miss, too. “Roman was a verra nice man.”
“I miss him.”
“We hardly knew him.” But even as she said the words, she knew she was lying. She felt like she’d known him all her life.
Regina turned away again, telling Amanda without words that she disagreed with her mother.
Well, she had raised a smart girl.
Standing up, Amanda held out a hand. “Come now, dear. Let’s stop wishing for things that we can’t have.”
Regina ignored her hand. “Momma, are we ever going to see him again?”
“We might. It depends if he wants to come back to visit.”
Regina’s eyes widened, then she pursed her lips and quietly nodded. “Okay.”
“Regina, Roman was just a vacation friend. At least, that’s all he is now.” And perhaps one day she’d even believe that.
“Are you going to talk to Mommi about him when she calls?”
“Definitely not.”
“I heard her say she wanted to ask you questions.” Her bottom lip puffed out in between a set of tiny white teeth. “I heard that.”
“I know she did. But Gina, that doesn’t mean I have to answer them. I hope you don’t start telling tales about Roman to your grandmother. No good will come out of that.” The moment she heard her words, heard her tone, Amanda regretted saying anything. She’d managed to frighten her daughter—all because she was confused about her life and what she wanted.
Tears filled Regina’s eyes.
Quickly, Amanda sat back down and wrapped her arms around her daughter’s thin frame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak to you like that. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
“You think so?”
“I do. Before you know it, we’ll be settled and snug in our very own house and we’ll be glad we’re not here any longer. I promise, that will happen.”
After a moment, Regina hugged Amanda back, then stood up. “I’m going to go check my room again.”
“All right, dear.”
But instead of jumping to her feet and attempting to organize all of their things one more time, Amanda stayed seated.
And gazed through the screen door at the pile of clothes neatly folded by the door . . . to an empty box of Pop-Tarts in the trash, and the open window beyond. The breeze blew in the fresh scent of salt and ocean.
Funny, it now smelled like freedom.
Chapter Twelve
“Hold still, Lorene,” Lovina said. “I want to make sure your dress looks perfect.”
But, just like when she was still a child, her daughter twitched and wiggled. “Mamm, the dress already looks fine. It looked perfect last time I tried it on.”
“Then stop squirming! I swear, you’re as jumpy as a cricket.”
“And twice as chirpy,” Lorene finished with a grin.
Lovina couldn’t help but smile as well. “Ach. That is an old joke, daughter.”
“It still makes me smile.”
This joking between them was new. Lovina hadn’t thought she would have embraced the bright, teasing conversation, but she was finding a lot of pleasure from their new interactions. It gave her hope for their future.
Hope where she had imagined there would be no more.
“It is nice to see you happy, maydel,” she commented, afraid to make too much of it, in case Lorene might just pull away from her again.
But instead of turning wary, her daughter simply smiled. “It’s nice to feel happy. I’m excited to finally marry John. And in just two weeks!”
That simple statement cut deeply into her conscience. Smoothing out fabric, then kneeling at her daughter’s feet to check the hem, she said, “Lorene, do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m only asking so that I
might prepare myself,” she said quickly.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Mamm. While it’s true that you were the one who asked me not to see John, I was the one who agreed.” She shook her head. “I didn’t fight your decision at all . . . and then I let years go by before I attempted to reconnect with him. Years!”
Lovina knew what kind of parent she’d been. She wouldn’t have put up with any disobedience of any kind. “Things were different back then,” she said hesitantly.
“Not that different.” Bitterness tinged her voice and though Lovina couldn’t blame her for that, Lorene’s words made her heart ache.
“I know you wanted to be an obedient daughter.”
“I did. But now I realize that I was afraid, too. I was afraid to go out on my own. I didn’t trust my heart.”
“I see.” She had her daughter spin so she could ensure every part of the hem was perfect and smooth.
“And after several conversations with John about this, I don’t think he was as ready for marriage as he believed, either. God’s timing is always right, Mother. You were right—even though I was certainly not happy about your opinions.”
“Ach,” she said. Because her daughter had surprised her once again. And because she, too, knew what it felt like to not be heard.
After all, her parents had made her feel much the same way.
“All right,” Viola announced as she entered the room with a pair of yellow placemats and cloth napkins. “I just finished another set for the wedding reception. What do you think?”
As Lorene oohed and awed over Viola’s handiwork, Lovina continued to kneel at her daughter’s feet. As was her habit, she made a great show of concentrating on her task. But in truth, she was happy to let her mind drift back to another day, another year.
Another lifetime, really. Back when she’d gone to the Homecoming dance with Jack. The night when so much had gone so wrong. . . .
“You look real pretty, Lolly.”
“Thanks.” Lovina smoothed her satin gown over her knees nervously as Jack drew his car to a stop at the light. “Are you excited about the dance?”
It was a dumb question. The dance had been all her group of friends had been able to talk about for days. Who wouldn’t be excited?
But he surprised her.
“I guess.” He shrugged. “I was more excited to be alone with you, if you want to know the truth.”
“Me?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, everyone knows your parents keep a tight rein on you. It makes seeing you a real challenge.”
“I didn’t think they were stricter than anyone else’s.”
“Maybe not. But it sure seems like it. I didn’t mind though.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nah, I always get my way, sooner or later.” His lips curved up into a devil-may-care grin. “I mean, look at us. I got you alone.”
If he hadn’t looked so delighted, she would have been nervous. But he was happy and so she felt wanted. Special. So she smiled back and tried not to fuss with the curls on the ends of her hair.
Moments later, Jack pulled into a parking place far from the gymnasium’s entrance. Actually, it was far from most of the other cars.
“Why are you parking way out here?” she asked. “I’ve got my mother’s heels on, you know.”
“If your feet start to hurt, I’ll carry you.”
She laughed, though the image made her feel all tingly—like daydreams really could come true. “Are you worried about someone hurting your car?”
“Nah, no one’s going to touch my car without getting hurt.” He leaned closer. “It’s for privacy, of course.” He grinned as he pulled the key out of the ignition. “How am I going to get a kiss if we’re in the middle of a crowd?”
Her mouth went dry as her mind went blank. She’d imagined kissing him, of course. In her daydreams, he’d ask her permission, then carefully press his lips to her cheek. Maybe, just maybe, after the second or third date they’d kiss on the lips.
But what was on his face was something far different. The first tingling of nerves filtered through her. Biting her lip, she contemplated telling him that she wasn’t ready for what he was talking about.
But how did a girl say such a thing to the boy of her dreams? Too worried about her feelings and the tingling going on in the back of her neck, she chose action instead of words. With a steady breath, she opened her door and got out of the car.
He scrambled out of the car, shouting after her. “Lolly, what are you doing?”
“I don’t want to be late for pictures.”
“Pictures? Oh, yeah. Sure.” He caught up to her, reaching for her hand when they were almost at the entrance.
Other girls hurried over when they neared. They commented on her dress, her shoes. Her hair. Lolly did the same thing, it was only polite.
Jack’s friends spoke to her, too. Their expressions were different, though. Almost as if they were privy to a private joke. Jack joked around with them, then tossed an arm over her shoulders, his hand dangling around the top of her bare arm. Every so often she’d feel the warm pads of his fingers graze her skin.
After they posed for pictures, the group of ten of them strode into the decorated gym like they owned the place. Then, one of Jack’s friends pulled out a flask and poured something into one of the cups for punch.
Jack shoved it at her. “Here, Lolly. Drink up.”
It was liquor, the smell sharp and pungent. Wrinkling her nose, she attempted to move away. “Um, I don’t think—”
“It’s no biggie, Lolly,” Jane interrupted. “Everyone’s having some. You’ll be the only one who doesn’t if you refuse.”
When Lolly still hesitated, Jane’s voice turned urgent. “Come on.”
And so she did. Because she’d felt like she had no choice. And because she didn’t want to cause a scene.
Jack smiled. “Good girl.”
At the moment, she felt like the opposite of a good girl. She felt wicked, and more than a little disheartened. She was with the most popular boy in her class but everything about the situation made her feel uneasy.
But it wasn’t like she had a choice.
With that first sip, her spirits deflated. And she’d known that everything she’d imagined happening had been nothing but childish daydreams of an innocent, naïve girl.
“Lolly, want to dance?”
Raising her chin, she looked into his dark eyes, saw desire and satisfaction in his expression. That was everything she’d thought she wanted. “Of course,” she said, smiling as he took her hand.
And let him guide her into his arms.
And pretended she wasn’t shouldering a very new, very real sense of foreboding.
As the memories spilled forth, Lovina grimaced. She’d been such a fool that night. So silly. So misguided. If she’d only been a little bit braver or a whole lot smarter, she could have saved herself a great amount of pain. Could have saved a lot of people from a great amount of pain.
“Mamm?”
Lovina started. “Hmm?”
“Mamm, I asked you a question,” Lorene said. “Did you hear me?”
“I’m afraid my mind went walking. What did you ask?”
“I was asking if you thought it was wrong for John and me to want to go on a honeymoon trip to New York. I know no one else took one.”
“Lorene, I think you should do whatever you want. Time passes too quickly to always worry about what others may think.”
Surprise, then pleasure, lit her daughter’s features. “Danke, Mamm. Hearing you say that means a lot.”
“It’s only my opinion. That’s all,” she said quietly.
She knew better than anyone that her judgment wasn’t always good. In fact, it was sometimes very, very bad.
Chapter Thirteen
When the phone rang, Amanda practically ran across the kitchen to answer it. Before he’d left, she and Roman had made plans to speak today, just to make sure they’d both gotten home all right. A
ll day long she’d been wavering between excitement for the upcoming call—and nervous apprehension that he would forget.
“Hello?” she asked, wincing as she heard the breathlessness in her voice.
“Amanda, it’s Roman.”
“Hi, Roman.” She leaned against the white laminate counter, smiling from ear to ear. Not only did he call, but he sounded exactly the same as she remembered.
“Hey, I thought today would never come. I’ve already tried to call you several times this week. You’re a difficult woman to get ahold of.”
He’d been calling? “I’ve been working a lot,” she said in a rush. “I guess I’ve been missing some phone calls.”
“You might consider getting an answering machine.”
Roman sounded so cross, she smiled, standing alone right there in her kitchen.
“That would be a gut idea, for sure,” she agreed.
But even so, she knew she’d never get one. Even if she had known he’d called, she knew that she wouldn’t have called him back. It would seem too forward. Too eager.
“I’m glad you’re home now. Tell me what you’ve been doing. And how you are. And how Regina is. And tell me about the weather, and the beach, too.”
She chuckled at his enthusiasm, loving how it mirrored her own. “That’s all?”
“Nee. I want to know what you’ve been eating and reading and if you’ve seen our dog.”
To her surprise, her eyes teared up. “You’ve been thinking about Goldie, too?” For some reason, that he would remember how much she had liked that shelter dog meant the world to her. It meant that he remembered what was dear to her.
“Goldie was a fine dog.”
“I thought so, too,” she said just as her mother-in-law wandered into the kitchen. “I miss her,” she added. To her surprise, a tear escaped and she wiped it away impatiently.
Across the kitchen, Marlene noticed. “Amanda, what is wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Nonsense. You are crying.” Eyeing the phone like she feared it was about to bite Amanda, she said, “Who are you speaking to?”
Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, she said, “Merely a friend.”
“Who?”