“I wish. Oh, I wish,” Levi said, still unable to control his emotions.
“The cycle of evil is broken when we choose to absorb a hurt instead of hurting in return, Levi. Refusing to forgive is great wickedness because we are rejecting Jesus’ sacrifice.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
Nathaniel pulled his chair closer. “Picture Jesus in your mind, immediately after being scourged by Roman soldiers. The cross lies ahead—greater suffering than either of us can imagine. The blood runs down His face from the wounds made by the crown of thorns. His back is bloody, His flesh torn by the cruel whip meant to torment the very life out of a man. But look into His eyes. When I look, I see nothing but love…love for the very men who torture Him. Love and forgiveness. Do you see Him?”
“Jah, I can picture His face.”
“Listen. Can you hear Him? ‘Levi,’ He says, ‘I will take the punishment for your father. I love him so dearly. How many stripes will you have Me take for him until you are satisfied? I do it willingly. I love you. I love him. How much more suffering will you ask Me to take for him?’”
They were both weeping now, Levi’s body taut with the sobs that racked his very soul. “None,” he cried out.
Nathaniel got to his feet and pulled Levi with him into a rib-crushing embrace. “No more,” he said. “It is enough.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Levi stuffed his hands into his pockets and started across the empty pasture. He needed to do one more thing before heading to Chicago tomorrow. The cold still pierced his bones, but he smelled a bit of spring in the air. Thank You, God, for the rebirth of spring. Spring reminded the world to have hope.
The man Levi sought stood at the far end of the pasture mending the barbed wire at the top of his fence. His cane rested against his leg as he struggled to bend the wire with a pair of pliers.
“Can I help?” Levi called.
The man’s face lit with recognition but was followed by a look of puzzlement. “Just one more twist should do it,” he said.
Levi came closer, and the man held out his hand. “Levi Cooper,” the man said. “I am honored that you would visit me.”
Levi lowered his eyes. The man’s enthusiastic welcome shamed him. “The honor is mine,” he said. “You’re very kind.”
“How is your mother?”
“She is doing really well. She’s back into full fellowship. Doesn’t stop smiling.”
“And you?” asked the man. “When will you be baptized?”
“Next week, Lord willing. That’s why I’m here.”
The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “There is no need.”
“I don’t want to be baptized until I am sure that I have done everything in my power to make amends—”
“You have done plenty. You paid for the buggy, as I recall, with money you didn’t have.”
Levi laid a hand on Vernon Wengerd’s arm. “Will you allow me to ask your forgiveness? One more time?”
Vernon nodded, sorrow suddenly appearing in his eyes.
“I am sorry for getting drunk that night. I am sorry that I gave my friends alcohol and that we let Derek drive. I am sorry we were laughing when we hit your buggy.” Levi wiped a tear from his face. “I am sorry about your leg. Mostly I am sorry that Dottie Mae is dead.”
Vernon put his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “My Dottie Mae is safe in the arms of Jesus, happier than she ever would have been on earth. God must have needed another angel. I forgive you with all my heart. I did that very night.”
“Thank you,” Levi whispered, not trusting his voice to be steady.
“You asked my wife for forgiveness again, didn’t you?”
“I wanted to be thorough.”
Vernon laughed. “There is a difference between being thorough and making a pest of yourself.” He clapped Levi on the shoulder. “We will speak no more of this between us, agreed?”
“Jah,” said Levi.
“Then come in and have some pie. Jane’s pies make you glad you have a mouth.”
“She already invited me.”
“See? If you praise Jane’s pies, she will be your best friend forever.”
“I would like that,” Levi said.
“So would I,” Vernon said. “You are a gute boy, Levi. You’ve turned out right well.”
* * * * *
The office machines hummed in a sea of cubicles. Curious faces turned toward Levi as he followed the assistant down the rows to the corner office. His dad was one of the bigwigs. He got an office with walls and a door.
The assistant made his way to a secretary guarding the entrance to Dad’s office. Dad’s secretary had a full head of auburn hair that sat on top of her head in a tight bun. Freckles dotted her nose, and she couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five. Did Dad’s wife, Sherry, ever worry about Dad having an affair with his secretary? It would serve her right.
Levi wanted to smack himself. Leave those thoughts in the past. “Charity thinketh no evil.”
Dad’s secretary never stopped typing as she glanced over her glasses. She didn’t even pause when she laid eyes on Levi, in typical Amish attire, standing before her desk.
“Sorry to bother you, Ami,” said the assistant. “He doesn’t have an appointment, but he wants to see Mr. Cooper.”
“He’s on the phone,” Ami said, still typing.
“What do you want me to do?” said the assistant.
“Make an appointment for next week.”
“I can’t come back next week,” Levi said.
“Sorry, his whole week is booked,” Ami insisted.
Amish or not, Levi still possessed a particle of irresistible charm. He took off his hat and leaned close enough to Ami to compel her to look up. He recognized the moment she decided he was good-looking. Her frantic keystrokes wound down before she stopped typing altogether.
“I’m Levi,” he said, flashing her an enchanting smile.
“I don’t date Amish guys,” she said. A look of horror flitted across her face as if she couldn’t believe she said that out loud.
Levi stifled a laugh. “Too bad.”
She blushed.
Levi leaned on her desk. “I know he’s busy. He works harder than anybody I know.”
“Tell me about it.”
“But I’m his son.”
She knitted her brows together and looked Levi up and down as if she were just now seeing him. “He never said anything about a son.”
Levi ignored the pinprick of pain poking at his heart. “I got up this morning at three a.m. and rode the bus for an eternity. I have to get back on the bus at six tonight. Can’t you cut me a break?”
Ami’s mouth twitched in surrender, and she pointed to the phone sitting on her desk. “You see that light? He’s on the phone with Mr. Heinzelmann. They’ve been at it for forty-five minutes. When that light goes off, you can go in. And tell him I tried to stop you.”
“Okay,” Levi said, bestowing one of his nicest smiles on her. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
He stood at Ami’s desk with his arms folded, staring at the red light on her phone, until she insisted he take a seat. “I can’t work with you looking over my shoulder.”
Another twenty minutes passed before she snapped her head up. “You’re in,” she said. “Go, go, before he gets another call.”
Levi hadn’t expected the wild pounding of his heart. It was his dad, for crying out loud.
The office, rich with dark wood and brass trim, commanded a panoramic view of Lake Michigan outside the floor-to-ceiling window. Rebecca wouldn’t be able to set foot in this office without a major panic attack. Levi’s father sat at his desk, his back to the door, as he stared out his thirtieth-floor window.
“Hi, Dad.”
His dad whirled around in his leather swivel chair and came to a dead stop when he laid eyes on Levi. A look of utter shock spread over his features, and he began to chuckle quietly. The chuckling soon turned to all-out unabated laugh
ter. He propped his elbow on his desk and buried his face in his hand to stifle his amusement.
The hurt flared up inside Levi like gasoline on a fire. What had he expected? That his dad would leap from his desk and smother him with affection?
As the laughing continued, anger reared its ugly head. What right does he have to mock me?
“Charity is not easily provoked. Charity beareth all things, endureth all things.”
The Lord was testing Levi’s resolve. Had he really forgiven his father? Could he purge the anger from his heart and make room for love?
Levi pictured the face of Christ in his mind and let the anger pass through him as if he were a sieve. He wasn’t perfect yet—the wound still festered—but he got control of his emotions and looked on his father with empathy. He thought of treasured memories. The times he and Dad worked on the old Toyota together and played catch in the backyard. The images of Dad coaching him from the dugout and teaching him how to throw a perfect spiral. The memories of how much Dad loved Mom and how much he gave up for her.
The laughing finally subsided, and Dad sighed and wiped his eyes. “You took me by surprise,” he said. “So, Mom dragged you back to the community.”
“I wanted to join.”
Dad propped his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together. “I’m not giving you any money, if that’s what you want.”
“I came to talk.”
Dad picked up a pen and wrote something in his notebook as if the conversation were already over. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
Levi winced. The relationship had been strained for too long. He had pushed his father away the minute Dad packed up his things and moved out. With his dad, Levi had returned evil for evil, and today he was reaping the consequences.
“Dad?”
“Forget about a poignant father-son moment, Levi.”
“I came to apologize.”
“You came to apologize?” Dad shook his head. “What you really want is an apology from me. You’re not going to get one.”
Without being invited, Levi sat in the overstuffed chair across from his dad. “Dad, just listen.”
Dad hesitated then tapped his pen on the desk. “I’m listening.”
“When you left, I let my temper get the better of me. I’ve had a lot of bad feelings toward you. I’ve been angry and resentful, and I ruined our relationship. I’m sorry.”
Dad briefly paused the tapping. “You wouldn’t even let me explain.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“That e-mail you sent—”
“I never should have said those things.”
“I gave up. I did my best with you, Levi.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“It’s too late for that.” Bitterness tinged every word. “There’s no relationship. You’re a stranger to me.” He motioned in Levi’s direction. “Even more with that Amish stuff on.”
Ami, the secretary, knocked lightly and stuck her head around the door. “Julie Pantell’s on line one,” she whispered, as if speaking softly would be less of an interruption.
Without another word, Dad glanced at Levi and picked up the phone. “Julie, what did you think of those projections?” he said.
Levi was being dismissed. Just like that. After two minutes of a heartto-heart with the most important man in his life, they were finished.
Levi stood and placed a hand on the desk, leaning in and demanding his father’s attention.
“Hold on one second, Julie,” Dad said. He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “There’s really nothing left to say.”
“I want to say that I love you. You’re my dad. I’ll always love you.”
Dad sprouted a peculiar look on his face before turning away from Levi to the window. “You’ve done your duty,” he said. “You can go home with a clear conscience.” That was all he had to give. He removed his hand from the phone and continued his analysis with Julie as if he had never been interrupted.
The disappointment almost rendered Levi immobile. He stood like a statue until his dad rolled to his computer and started clicking. Blinking back the stupid, ever-ready tears, Levi turned on his heels and marched through the doorway.
After his talk with Nathaniel and a long night of soul-searching, Levi had felt so light, so free from resentment and malice, that he forgot the rest of the world might not share his enthusiasm.
In his imagination, the scene between him and his father played out like a sappy made-for-TV movie, where everything got nicely resolved in ninety minutes or less. Life proved more complicated. He should have known that. Look at how he’d managed things so far with Rebecca.
Walking in unprepared for his dad’s hostility made the sting that much worse.
And it really hurt.
Levi found a nice tree on a grassy spot across from Dad’s building and cried his eyes out for a quarter of an hour. Dad remembered the e-mail, written to him in a horrible state of mind right after he moved out. Levi had called Dad and his new girlfriend, Sherry, every foul name he could think of. He’d practically declared war. They never communicated again. Dad surrendered complete custody of Levi and Beth, moved to Chicago, and never spoke to either of them again. The only way they knew he was still alive was by the child-support check that came on the first of every month without fail.
Levi found himself slipping into the old patterns, the condemnation, the self-loathing, that had consumed him for five years. If he had been a better son, Dad wouldn’t have left. If he had tried to see his father’s point of view, he wouldn’t have abandoned them. All of it was his fault.
Levi swallowed hard and actually tasted alcohol on his tongue. The desire for a drink caught him off guard. He dug his fists into his eyes, said a quick prayer, and pulled Mom’s old Bible out of his backpack.
Knowing exactly what he searched for, Levi turned to the book of Revelation. Things got awfully dark in Revelation before they got better.
“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”
He’d made a complete mess of things with his dad five years ago, and no amount of wishing would change that. It was time to let Jesus take care of the past and make everything right through His grace.
Would Rebecca be willing to tap in to that grace too?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Vernon Wengerd was a big man—almost as tall as Levi, with thick arms and a barrel chest. Dottie Mae took after him. When she died at fourteen, she was five feet, ten inches tall and could wrestle her little brother to the ground with one hand.
Rebecca always felt extra short standing next to her, as she did now when Dottie Mae’s dat opened the door and gave her a big hug.
“Rebecca Miller, you are a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I was told you never come to gatherings.”
“I would never miss a gathering at your house,” Rebecca said. “And I got my chores done early.”
“Whatever the reason, we are honored. And Linda, how nice to see you. Cum reu. Jane and the boys are setting up the Ping-Pong tables.” He still walked with a cane. The buggy accident had permanently damaged nerves in his leg.
Rebecca glanced around the family room. She and Linda were the first ones there, but Marvin would arrive soon. He was unfailingly prompt—an excellent quality for a husband. Rebecca massaged the back of her neck; she felt as if every muscle were pulled as tight as a cable.
She’d planned the early arrival on purpose so she could spend a few minutes with the Wengerds. The Wengerd house had always been a second home to her. The exposed wooden rafters tapered down the walls to an ancient wooden floor polished until it shown like glass. Jane, Dottie Mae’s mamm, loved plants as Rebecca did, and pots and planters of exotic and common houseplants sat on every unused surface. The purple afghan crocheted by Dottie Mae still had a place of honor on the sofa underneath Dottie Mae’s cross-st
itched pillow that read, THE LORD IS MY LIGHT AND MY SALVATION; WHOM SHALL I FEAR?
Behind the sofa, a set of accordion doors opened into the large space where the Wengerds held church services. The doors were open now, and Jane Wengerd and her sons set up two Ping-Pong tables there for the gathering.
After Dottie Mae’s death, Jane and Vernon cared more for Rebecca’s grieving than they did for their own. They brought her small mementos of Dottie Mae and invited her over every Sunday evening to sit.
The Wengerds were more than a second family; they were Rebecca’s ideal family. In many ways, Vernon was the father Rebecca longed for—accepting, kind, and at home. And Jane labored dawn to dusk for the good of her ten children. Nothing was ever too much work if it benefited her family.
Rebecca didn’t dwell on those sentiments very often. The good Lord had blessed her with a hardworking fater and a mother who loved her children fiercely. And Rebecca knew how ungrateful her comparisons were.
Jane bustled to Rebecca’s side and embraced her warmly. “It has been ages since we saw you. Why must you be a stranger? You work too hard, I think.”
“Not as hard as you,” Rebecca said.
“The chores, your mother’s illness, they all wear on you. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Nae, I am fine.”
Jane took Rebecca’s hand. “Cum in the kitchen and help us finish the pretzels.”
Jane always had a task for Rebecca whenever she came to visit. Being asked to do something in Jane’s kitchen meant that Rebecca was part of the inner circle of the family instead of a mere guest who wouldn’t be asked to help at all.
The kitchen and family room were separated by a long wall with a wide opening so that the people in either room could see each other. Potted plants lined the ledge of the opening and trailed their leaves in cascades down either side.