A Love For Lizzie. Tracey J. Lyons
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of time later to think about taking a wife and making his own home. He closed his eyes, and for the briefest moment pictured Lizzie standing by his side.
He knew that dream was further away from reality than owning his own business was.
* * *
Lizzie sat in her vader’s favorite chair, the one that had soft fabric covering plump cushions, and looked out the front window. It had been a very long day and she should have been sound asleep in her bed. But her mind wouldn’t settle. There were too many thoughts and memories from this day swirling around in her head. Her mamm had sent a message saying she would be staying at the hospital with her vader overnight. Sadie had offered to stay over so Lizzie wasn’t alone in the house, but Lizzie had sent her home. Lizzie didn’t mind having some quiet time to herself.
Resting her elbows on the chair arms, she looked out the window and up into the night sky. There had to be a million stars shimmering against the inky blackness. The moon was three-quarters full and cast a sharp glow over the landscape. She looked out over the yard, where the tree limbs swayed in the breeze, their shadows dancing over the dewy lawn. Behind her the clock on the mantel in the living room showed it was ten o’clock.
Lizzie curled her hand into a soft fist and tucked it beneath her chin. She sat for a few more moments, pondering the day. She thought about how kind Paul had been to her; from the moment he’d brought her the paints until the time he’d returned home, she’d felt his kindness. Lizzie wasn’t sure she deserved it. For years she’d been pushing him away. Though she appreciated his friendship, there could never be anything more between them. Even the things they wanted in life were so different.
Paul wanted to open up a shop in the village. She didn’t understand how he could walk away from his family business. He’d begun to tell her about it earlier today, but they were interrupted by the hospital receptionist. Lizzie was content to stay home with her parents and help run the household. He liked talking to strangers and making them beautiful furniture for their homes. She wasn’t comfortable being around people she didn’t know. Even on the days when she had to go to the village to shop for her mamm, she timed it so there would be hardly any crowds in the stores. Lizzie imagined she could be content to stay just as she was. And now, with her vader’s illness, she was needed here more than ever. And when she needed a break, she could go off with her sketch pad and draw.
Off in the distance she heard the sound of a cow mooing. Lizzie looked out toward the barn. She saw a tall figure holding a lantern high.
Her heart pounded inside her chest, and then the man turned to look up at the house. Paul. Relief flooded through her as she stood up and went to open the front door. She stepped out onto the porch and waited for him to approach.
“Good evening, Lizzie.”
“You gave me quite a fright, you know,” Lizzie scolded him from the top of the porch step.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure the cows were secure.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she replied, putting her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. “Oh, my. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be yawning at you.” A nervous laugh escaped her.
Still holding the lantern out in one hand, he shoved the other into the side pocket of his dark pants. “Don’t worry. I know you’ve had a very long day. Has there been any word on your vader?”
“Nee. My mamm is staying at the hospital with him tonight.”
Through the darkness he studied her, as if trying to decide if it were safe for her to remain here alone.
Finally he said, “Promise me you will lock the doors.”
“I will. Danke again for everything you’ve done.”
“It was no trouble. I’ll be back tomorrow to take a shift with the chores.”
“Good night, Paul.”
“Good night, Lizzie.”
He turned and walked back down the pathway. She watched him until he was nothing more than a shadow in the fading moonlight. Long after Paul had gone, she stared at the barn doors. So many terrible memories of this day lingered inside that building.
She stepped back inside the house and shut the front door, locking it behind her. Turning around she spotted the bag Paul had given her lying on the side table, where she’d left it this morning. She nibbled on her lower lip, contemplating what was inside. Colors. He’d told her she should add colors to her drawings. It was easy to imagine tufts of green grass and swaths of blue sky coming to life on the paper.
After going into her bedroom and opening the bottom drawer in the dresser, she took out her sketch pad and pencils. Then she came back into the living room, sat down, turned up the lamp and then flipped the pad open to the last drawing she’d been working on. The bare-bones image of the barn glared up at her. Her heart felt as if it were squeezing inside her chest as she looked at the plain lines she’d drawn a few weeks ago. Lizzie picked up the pencil and held it poised over the page. Maybe Paul was right. She needed to bring color to her work, and to her life, she thought. Perhaps only then could she erase the starkness of the memories that haunted her.
Sighing, she set the pencil down and closed her sketchbook. It had been a long, long day. Shaking her head, Lizzie mused. Nothing about the past could be changed. Nothing. She needed to stop dwelling on what might have been. Being here with her parents, staying within the close comfort of the farm, this was her life. There was nothing for her beyond the fences.
It was time she accepted that and put thoughts of love and family out of her mind. For good.
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