Love Beyond The Rite

Chapter 3

As I scrolled through my contacts, trying to find someone to pick me up, a buggy approached and stopped in front of me. Alice's concerned face peered out from behind the reins.

A bearded man popped his head out and looked at me. His face looked like he was sorry for me.

“Excuse me, Do you need a ride somewhere?”

I’ve ridden in a buggy before as a child. Being friends with an Amish kid I got to experience their way of life first hand.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would greatly appreciate it!”

He jumped out and led me into the buggy. Alice gave me a smile and said in her Deutsch accent “Emmy? Is that you?”

Despite my life being flipped upside down it was nice to see a familiar face. I smiled and gave her a little nod.

Inside, the buggy was warm and cozy, lined with plush quilts and soft cushions. The air was filled with the sweet scent of wood smoke and the faint hint of horsehair.

As we rode, the snow-covered landscape stretched out before us, a serene expanse of white dotted with bare trees and snow-covered barns.

The little boy next to her looked at me with a strange expression.

“Ma… why was she standing in the road with no coat?”

I gave him a little smile and said “it was unplanned”

“Jeremiah mind your manners.” Alice told the boy.

“Well Emmy, we have a little ways until we get to your mother’s house. Why don’t you tell me, Where you have been these last few years? “

I know she was curious as to how I was waving to her from a car window one second to now hitching a ride from her the next. It was honestly not the best time to tell her my boyfriend was just caught cheating on me and got mad I called him out on it.

“Well, life has definitely changed the past few years. I finished college in Florida, majoring in graphic design. Unfortunately my mom is very sick and needed me to come home. “

Alice's eyes locked onto mine, filled with compassion. "We've known for a while now that Janice hasn't been well. My cousins have been trying to help her out when she needs it. God be with her and you."

She grasped my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Alice. I appreciate your kindness," I said, a tear rolling down my cheek.

I felt a mix of emotions: gratitude, guilt, and relief. I hadn't known that neighbors had been helping my mom. I assumed my siblings were taking care of her, but they'd been distant, caught up in their own lives, like me. The realization made me feel awful.

Alice gave me a subtle look like she wanted to tell me something but quickly looked away.

“Mama how do you know this English woman?” The young girl, around 5 years old whispered.

“Well Clara, this is Emmy. She was a neighbor to our Troyer cousins. She and Elijah Troyer were friends when they were your age.” Her face softened at the memory.

It’s been awhile since I’ve heard his name. It’s been awhile since I have even thought about him. I wonder if he still remembers I exist.

As the buggy wobbled down the familiar road, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with anxiety.

Returning to the place of my childhood brought back memories both sweet and bitter.

Looking around at the rolling hills covered in snow and the old wooden fences lining the road, I wondered how much had changed since I left.

My thoughts were interrupted by the children's joyful shouts, "We're here!!!" drawing my attention to the window."

The old farmhouse stood before me, its weathered wooden boards worn smooth. The steeply pitched roof, once a warm golden brown, had faded to a soft gray, like driftwood worn smooth by the elements. Snowflakes clung to the roof, casting a delicate white blanket over the structure.

As I gazed at the house, memories flooded my mind. I remembered summers spent playing in the fields, chasing fireflies and picking wildflowers. I remembered my mother's warm smile and the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafting from the kitchen.

But alongside the sweet memories, bitter ones surfaced. I recalled arguments and tears, the sound of shattering glass and the feeling of being lost and alone. The farmhouse, once a sanctuary, had witnessed my childhood's joys and sorrows.

The wraparound porch, adorned with wooden rocking chairs, seemed to whisper secrets of the past. The creaky wooden steps, worn smooth by generations of footsteps, led to the front door, its white paint chipped and faded.

As I exited the buggy and stood before the old farmhouse, memories swirled around me like autumn leaves. I didn’t think I’d be coming here alone. Paul was supposed to be standing here with me. I questioned if I could actually do this.

Jacob, Alice's husband, pulled my suitcase out from the buggy's storage space and handed it to me. I thanked him and smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I made it.

As I turned to leave, Alice called out, "Please don't be a stranger, Emmy!" Her warm words touched my heart, and I smiled, feeling grateful for her kindness.

The children, Clara and Jeremiah, waved goodbye, their faces still flushed from our ride. I waved back, feeling a sense of connection to these people who had become friends in my time of need.

My face still throbbed where Paul's hand had struck me. I hesitated for a moment before pulling out my phone to assess the damage. The screen's glow illuminated the faint red outline of his fingers, a slight bruise beginning to form.

I hoped the cold air would help reduce the swelling, but the memory of his angry face lingered, making my skin crawl. Hopefully nobody will notice it.