The Atonement Read Free Page A

Deitsch , the room lit by the gas lamp overhead. She was pressing onward through yet another chapter when she saw her father enter through the back entrance. He bent low to straighten the large rag rug in the mud room, talking to himself as he removed his straw hat and shoes. Recently, she’d noticed the dark circles under his gray-blue eyes.
    â€œIs your Mammaround?” Dat asked as Lucy rose to offer him something to drink or nibble on. After all, he’d left right after supper, where he’d merely picked at the roast beef and potatoes on his plate.
    â€œShe’s upstairs early.” Lucy motioned toward the stairs. “But I made a snack for ya.”
    He looked surprised, his eyes softening, and she felt obliged to explain. “Mamm asked me to.”
    â€œOh, of course.”
    She opened the fridge and removed the tuna and Swiss cheese sandwich with sliced dill pickles, made the way her mother had instructed. She put it on a small plate.
    â€œLucy, listen.” He made his way to the counter and restedagainst it, his hands on his anguished face. “I did a peculiar thing tonight.”
    â€œDat, you look tired.” She moved the plate nearer to him.
    He nodded. “ Jah , but I can’t go up just yet. But you go on if ya want.”
    Heading for the stairs, she paused and glanced back to see him still standing there, his expression unsettling. “You all right, Dat?”
    He looked at her, opened his mouth. “I, uh, went to a class for grieving folk,” he said.
    She looked at him, stunned.
    With a frown, he fixed his gaze on her, then bowed his head for a time. “You’re long past it, ain’t ya, Lucy?”
    Her heart constricted, the old defenses kicking in. Without a word, she moved back to the kitchen, opened the cupboard, and took out a tumbler. “I’ll make ya some chocolate milk. It’s your favorite.”
    â€œNo need to.” He started toward the fridge, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I can mix it up myself.”
    She stepped ahead of him. “Go an’ sit at the table, Dat. I’ll bring it over to ya.”
    He lingered for a moment, tugging on his chest-length graying beard. Then he made his way across the kitchen, and the wooden chair made a sharp scraping sound as he pulled it out to sit with a moan. “ Denki, Lucy . . . a gut and kind daughter you are.”
    She observed her father, obviously wanting her company. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to join him.
    â€œIf you don’t need anything more, I’m feelin’ tired,” she said softly. And with that, Lucy made her way up the stairs.

Chapter 2

    C HRISTIAN STARED ABSENTLY at the green-and-white-checked oilcloth, still nibbling on his tuna sandwich long after Lucy had gone. Lettie and Faye had briefly wandered into the kitchen for some oatmeal cookies, offering him one. Presently, they stood over by the counter to chatter between themselves. They have each other , he’d thought many times over the years.
    He raised his arms to stretch, hoping Sarah might still be awake when he headed upstairs. She alone was his solace. Lettie and Faye were dear sisters; that was apparent. Lucy, for her part, had always seemed more bonded to Martie. Christian felt sure the twins would marry within a few years, and at one time he might have thought the same about Lucy. She’d had such a winning way about her during her early courting-age years. Back when we were close. He sighed.
    He recalled when Lucy was just four, and he had taught her to ride his brother Caleb’s pony. Her coy little smile was all it took to lift his spirits on a difficult day . . . the way she’d peek around the corner of the stable at him. “ Kumm do , little Lucy!”he would call, and she’d run barefoot straight to him and leap into his arms.
    One night during her Rumschpringe, Lucy had insisted on staying with him far into the wee hours,