Jay thought about his own courtship of Evelyn and realized that much of what Emma had just said could be applied to him. “I know what you mean,” he said at last.
She blinked. “You do?”
“Jah. I grew up with Evelyn, too. She was always a bit delicate. A bit introverted. When we were teenagers, she would have stayed home on an evening like tonight. I would have been over playing basketball like Mark and the other boys.” Thinking back, he forced himself to remember the evenings when he’d been frustrated with her bashfulness. Sometimes he’d wanted to complain, to tell her that he was tired of them never joining other couples at singings and such. He’d been so sure that if she tried a little harder to be out with others from time to time, she would have eventually overcome her shyness.
But after she’d gotten sick, and he’d realized that his time with her might be cut short, he’d been ashamed that he hadn’t been more accepting of her quiet ways. He should have celebrated her strengths instead of concentrating on what he perceived to be her weaknesses.
“Did you ever wish she was more outgoing?”
“At times? Jah.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he was hoping and praying that the Lord would erase them from Emma’s memory.
Especially since she was looking at him like he’d said the sky was falling. “Sorry. I did love her. She was a gut frau.”
“Of course she was.” She said it so quietly that he had to lean closer to hear her. “I was just realizing that my relationship with Sanford was gut, too.”
“Jah. Of course it was.”
“But it wasn’t particularly romantic.”
Since she was being so honest, Jay forced himself to put to words things that had only ever been vague thoughts—thoughts he’d done his best to push away. “I never thought I needed romance.”
Cheeks flushed, she looked down at her feet. He noticed that she had donned bright pink rubber flipflops that matched her dress.
“Me, neither. But . . . but, maybe it would have been nice,” she said at last.
Jay swallowed, too plagued by his regrets to say a word. He should have told Evelyn he loved her a whole lot more. He should have cared less about spending time with other people and treasured their time together more. He should have thanked her for giving him three fine boys and praised her for the wonderful way she’d raised them.
He should have been a better man.
Emma’s silence meant as much to him as when she chatted about whatever was on her mind. It was if she understood completely just how hard it was to discuss things better left unsaid. Then she lifted her chin and looked at him, her blue eyes shining with honesty.
“I am only now beginning to realize that I don’t have to always think that everything between me and Sanford was perfect.”
“No one expects a marriage to be perfect.”
Looking at him sadly, she shook her head. “I’m afraid some people do. My family and Sanford’s family choose to remember my marriage that way. And while it was a gut marriage, it wasn’t perfect. No relationship ever is, not completely, I don’t think.”
With that, she stepped back, just as two women who looked so similar to her that they could only be her sisters approached. After a curious look his way, they walked to either side of Emma and essentially escorted her away. The right thing to do would have been to avert his eyes and look someplace else, but he couldn’t refrain from watching Emma walk away.
With the sun setting in the distance, the pink fabric of her dress highlighting her flawless complexion, and her tan toes peeking out of their sandals, he couldn’t help but think that she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
Remembering himself, he amended his thoughts: She was the prettiest thing he’d seen in years. Since Evelyn.
It was a shame that his thoughts didn’t ring quite true.
THE MINUTE BEN’S FATHER turned and walked back to the shuffleboard courts, Ben sighed in relief, making Tricia grin. “That was close. I thought for a minute my daed was going to come over here and join us,” he said.
She couldn’t help but giggle. “Surely not.”
“I’m not joking. He was looking like he thought we were making a scene.”
Immediately she felt her cheeks warm. “Were we? I didn’t think we were doing anything bad.”
“We weren’t. My father is simply being ridiculous. He doesn’t believe in public displays of affection.” Smiling, he said, “Unfortunately, Daed thinks even holding hands fits in that category.”
Tricia was surprised. She’d been over to the Hiltys’ home several times now and had noticed that their father always treated his boys with kindness, including the occasional pat on the back or a squeeze of their shoulder. But maybe Ben was speaking of the way he expected his boys to treat girls?