The Bridge of Peace by Cindy Woodsmall Read Free Book Online Page B

that she wanted the work done before he went fishing, or that she resented that both Ivan and Grey would return with dirty clothes smelling of fish, or that he’d leave some fish scales in the yard after cleaning them. Even if he asked or tried to prod her to talk, they’d land in the same place they always did—only with a little more deadness between them each time.
    No matter what or where they were right now, he still held on to hope that one day they’d really talk and she’d decide to accept her disappointments in being married to him, own up to her part of where they were and why, and be willing to start from there.
    It’d taken him a long time to be willing to forget blame and simply start from where they were, but he’d done it. Could she?
    “Daed!” Ivan stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a huge smile on his little face. His feety-pajamas covered all but his neck and head. One sleeve hung empty from his elbow down.
    His little boy ran to him, and Grey scooped him up. “Ivan.” He ruffled his hair and pulled him close, whispering good morning and his love in the only language the little boy spoke, Pennsylvania Dutch.
    Ivan hung on tight. “ Du bischt daheem !”
    “ Ya, witt fische geh ?” Grey agreed that he was at home today and asked Ivan if he wanted to go fishing.
    Ivan turned and slapped the table with his one hand, yelling, “Ya!”
    “Ivan,” Elsie scolded him. “ Net im Haus. Is sell so hatt zu verschteh ?”
    Grey flinched as his wife fussed, Not in the house. Is it that hard to understand? “He’s just excited.” Grey aimed to keep his voice even as he spoke to Elsie in English. Ivan hadn’t been taught much English yet, but even a child years younger than Ivan could pick up on tone.
    “There are rules, Husband. Even for a little boy without an arm. You’re not helping by indulging him. When will you see that?”

    Ignoring her, Grey sat Ivan on the table facing him. “ Bischt hungerich ?”
    He nodded, letting Grey know he was hungry.
    “ Gut. Mir esse un no gehne mir .”
    Ivan’s eyes lit up when Grey told him they’d eat and then go. Without looking at Grey, Elsie set a plate of food for Ivan on the table and returned to the sink. He studied his wife. “Elsie.” He waited until she turned to him. Except for the dullness in her eyes, she looked much like she had the day he’d married her nearly six years ago. “Go with us. You could sit on a blanket and watch. Or pick wildflowers. We could share a lunch and maybe even a laugh.”
    Instead of her usual shake of the head and mumbling a “no thank you,” her eyes welled with tears. “And then what will we share? Lies? Dreams we know can’t come true?”
    His heart quickened. Had she just shared a hint of what separated them? He stared at her, trying to understand what she might mean. “Lies?”
    A cold, hauntingly familiar look covered her face. Silence suffocated his hope, but he held her gaze. “Surely believing in dreams would be better than this reality we’re in.”
    The hurt in her eyes was clear, but he thought he caught a hint of her wanting to say more. From the moment he’d seen her in the hallway, she seemed less distant than usual. Did something in her want to open up? Wouldn’t that be as vast and high as the heavens—for them to talk and plant some type of seed that didn’t grow discouragement and sorrow?
    He put Ivan in his chair and placed his food in front of him. He walked over to her, standing so close he could smell the lilac soap he’d given her for her birthday. “Talk to me,” he whispered.
    She grabbed a cloth and started wiping the counters. “You two go.”
    “We will.” He took her by the arm, and she gazed up at him. “Why do we live like this, Elsie? Even if you married me for all the wrong reasons, why can’t we let that go and embrace life as it is?”

    Fresh tears filled her eyes. How long had it been since he’d seen her care?
    “Please, talk to me.”
    Ivan finished