ears and marched outside to meet his fate.
Patricia jumped out of the car and waved her hand. “Good evening, Mr. Fisher. My, you look very nice. I have my personal car tonight instead of the county’s sedan. I hope you don’t think it’s too small.”
“Please call me Nathan, and no, your car is just fine.” He ducked his head and folded himself into the two-seater sports car. It felt as though he was sitting mere inches above the ground while his knees pressed hard against the dashboard.
“You can slide that seat back some. There’s a gizmo on the side. And please buckle your seat belt.”
Nathan didn’t like the seat belt. It made him feel trapped inside the tin can. However, once he was situated, he forced a pleasant expression. “Is it a long drive to your place?”
“We’re not going to my house, although that’s where we usually hold these meetings. Once I told a few members you were coming, another woman who doesn’t live far from you volunteered her home. Plus, she had a blackberry cheesecake recipe she wanted to try out.”
Little hairs rose on the back of his neck. “This is a social gathering—a coffee klatch of women getting together?” he asked. It wasn’t too late to ask her to turn the car around and take him home.
“No, no, it’s a therapeutic session, I assure you. Other men will be there. But we Englischers tend to include some kind of dessert or refreshment when we gather, no matter what the occasion.” She glanced at him.
Begrudgingly, he nodded. “I suppose the Amish are the same. We have almost as much food after a funeral as a wedding.” He tried not to think about the sliced ham, fried chicken, barbequed beef, cold salads, and hot vegetables served by his cousins after Ruth’s funeral. He tried but did not succeed.
“I want you to relax tonight, Nathan.” Patricia seemed to sense his unease. “These are all fine Christian people who, like yourself, have recently lost a loved one. Although you may not have met them before, you can be certain you’ll be among friends.” She kept her focus on the highway. Cars and trucks zoomed past the tiny car at incredible speeds. “And one of the requirements to join the group is complete discretion. Nothing you share with us will ever be repeated to other people, and the same will be expected from you.” She met his gaze briefly.
He pulled on his beard, trying to shift to a more comfortable position. “I don’t know if I’ll say anything a’tal. I thought I’d just listen to what other folks have to say.”
“That’s perfectly fine. You’re under no obligation to talk tonight or ever. But you might be surprised. There’s something about people sharing their burdens that may make you choose to unload a few of your own.”
He grunted and clenched his teeth. Missing my wife is no burden. “You say these folks are Christians? Do they all go to your church?”
“They are all Christians, but they go to a variety of churches—Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Catholic, and non-denominational, like mine.”
“Am I your only Amish?”
“You will be our first, but I hope not our last.”
Nathan stared out the window without comment. As usual, he didn’t know what to say or think about any of this. But his time for contemplation ended as her little red car pulled up the long drive of a beige ranch house with green shutters. A ceramic deer with glass eyes watched their approach from the flower bed, while a metal sunflower spun wildly in the breeze.
“This is the home of Carol Baker,” announced Patricia.
“Mrs. Baker sure loves red geraniums and purple pansies,” he said, unfolding himself from the car. Dozens of each plant bordered the concrete walkway leading to the front door. Nathan walked behind Mrs. Daly on legs stiffened from the soup-can car and from fear of the unknown.
A middle-aged woman in bright purple greeted them at the door. “Hello, Patricia. And you must be Mr. Fisher. Welcome,” she said. “Everyone else is already in the living room. Shall we join them?”
Nathan nodded, following the ladies into the front room, where four women and two men waited. Some were sitting on the couch or in upholstered chairs, but metal chairs had also been set up. All eyes fastened on him and their chatter ceased when they entered.
“Everyone, this is Nathan Fisher,” said Patricia. “I’ll let people introduce themselves, and talk a little about the loved one they have lost. I’ll