The Amish Blacksmith
“That afternoon, I went looking for Amos up at the house and found Roseanna sitting at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. The sun cast a mellow, almost sympathetic hue around her. A crumpled tissue rested near her elbow, and her eyes were rimmed with glassy, ready-to-fall tears. My first thought was that someone close to the Kinsingers had died. My real reason for coming inside the big house skittered away.
“What is it, Roseanna? What’s the matter?”
She startled, picked... up the tissue, and dabbed at her nose. “Oh, Jake. I didn’t hear you.”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Roseanna smiled sadly. “She’s leaving.”
“What? Who’s leaving?” But I knew in an instant whom she meant.
“Priscilla. She decided to go back to Indiana.”
The air in the room seemed to shift. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around Roseanna’s words. Priscilla’s leaving would certainly mean that her social life was no longer my responsibility. But instead of feeling relieved, my initial sensation was a wave of disappointment.MoreLess
“What is it, Roseanna? What’s the matter?”
She startled, picked... up the tissue, and dabbed at her nose. “Oh, Jake. I didn’t hear you.”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Roseanna smiled sadly. “She’s leaving.”
“What? Who’s leaving?” But I knew in an instant whom she meant.
“Priscilla. She decided to go back to Indiana.”
The air in the room seemed to shift. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around Roseanna’s words. Priscilla’s leaving would certainly mean that her social life was no longer my responsibility. But instead of feeling relieved, my initial sensation was a wave of disappointment.MoreLess
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