He was right.
Tillie stood. “Where?” she asked.
“Surely there’s someplace in the house where we can have a measure of privacy.”
Tillie nodded. “Follow me.” She led the way into the house through the dining room and back to the sewing room. It was chilly in there since the door was always closed, but at least there was no wind and no people to hear what they had to say to each other.
“You don’t think you can marry me?” Melvin asked a second after she shut the door behind them. “Why not?”
Tillie’s heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to call the words back as much as she needed to explain them. “I can’t see you staying here for the rest of your life.”
She could tell from the look on his face that she had hit her mark.
“You want to stay here, don’t you? Raise Emmy among the Amish? In order for you to have the life you want, that’s what I have to do,” he said. The words held an ominous ring.
“But if you marry me, you won’t have the life you want,” she pointed out.
He didn’t say a word, just looked at her.
The situation was hopeless and she had just now allowed herself to admit it. “So what do we do?” she asked.
Melvin gave her a sad little smile. “What do you want to do?”
It wasn’t that simple. She wanted to stay with her family, but she couldn’t . . . she wouldn’t do that to Melvin. He was so very happy in his new life. She might not love him any longer, but she surely couldn’t see herself making his life miserable. What good would that do either of them?
“I promised I would marry you. Stand by you,” he said. “But it has to be what you want. I thought it was what you wanted.”
“Me too,” she said. “But I need to know what you want.”
“I asked you first.”
Tillie flopped down on the bed, letting out an exasperated sigh. A box of fabric fell to the floor, but she didn’t bend to pick it up. “Don’t do this, Melvin. Have that much respect for me.”
“You think I don’t respect you?” he asked. “I love you, Tillie.”
But not enough to stay with her and raise their daughter in the lifestyle and community where they had been brought up.
“But I don’t think you love me anymore,” he said.
“I do,” she promised, but it was different now. She didn’t have to tell him that. She knew he could tell. Their time in Columbus had changed that love. His new lifestyle, his new priorities, his new everything had caused a riff between them. One she didn’t think she could ever bridge.
“What’s it going to be, Tillie?”
She shook her head. There was no sense in prolonging it further. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, sounding like a true English girl. “But I won’t marry you.”
“You won’t marry me anywhere, or you won’t marry me unless I come back to the Amish?”
“Melvin.” His name was a plea on her lips. That wasn’t fair. She would have to marry him in order to return to their community. There was no way around that one. And despite that stipulation she still wanted to return. But not with that stipulation. Sometimes the things we want remain the things we wished we had.
He shook his head. “Don’t do this, Tillie. Have enough respect for me now to answer that question.”
“You don’t want to stay Amish, so there’s not a point in answering.”
“I like being English,” he said, even though it was obvious.
“I don’t,” she said.
“You never took to it, Til. You dress like a nun and don’t want to go to parties.”
“I only left here for you.” And she knew how miserable that had made her. If she made Melvin come back, then he would be just as miserable. If she went English, or even Mennonite, she might be able to see her folks from time to time. Shunning wasn’t quite as strict as it had been in the past. She might not be able to live as the Amish live, but that didn’t mean she had to make both of them miserable.
Because if she made him come back—and she knew he would for her; well, for Emmy—then she would hate herself, and he would hate her too, eventually. What good would that do anyone?
“I don’t know what I want.”
“I don’t think that’s the truth,” he said. His voice was sad, gentle, and a little prodding.
“I can’t have what I want.” It was the truth, at least. She wanted to raise her daughter in their Amish community. She wanted people to stop staring at her when she went places, and she wanted to go back to before she had made all the mistakes that had changed her life so drastically.
No. That last one wasn’t the truth. Going back would mean no Emmy, and that was something she couldn’t imagine.
“Then what’s the plan?” he asked.
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Go back, I guess. I’m going to try and get my job back.”
“But you don’t want to marry me.” The words almost formed a question.
“Do you want to marry me?” she countered.
He blew out an exasperated sigh. “Do you think for a moment that we can stop talking in riddles?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. But the truth was so much harder to say. “I know your English friends talked you out of marrying me.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t them so much. I was just trying to break away from everything.” Amish rules, he meant.
“You had almost nine months to marry me. And you didn’t. Why the rush now?”
“Because I thought it’s what you wanted.”
There had been a time, a long while, when she had wanted to be married to Melvin, had dreamed of nothing else. But those dreams were shattered now, lost in the light of a new life and the ashes of an old life she could never return to.
“I guess that’s my answer,” he
