“Your mind’s in a whirl today, ain’t so?” Mamm gave me a faint smile, her blue eyes discerning. “But you couldn’t have known about Atley. Not even his parents suspected anything was amiss.” She glanced up at a flock of birds.

Though I hadn’t allowed myself to voice it then, the fact was I’d been angry with myself—and him—for allowing us to remain a couple as long as we had. And for the first three months after our breakup, I was downright disgruntled about that, as well as my romantic prospects here in Mifflinburg. Sadly, Atley hadn’t been the only fellow to drift away. On the heels of Atley’s exit, the behavior of a handful of other fellows became worrisome, as well, betraying how they were raised. Most shockingly, one of the boys I’d gone to junior high with had decided to join the army, turning his back on the nonresistance our Anabaptist church embraced.

It was around then that I came across God’s words in the Bible about looking ahead to the good things He had planned for me. It seemed that the Lord had something better in mind for me than my rehashing the past. I also recognized it wasn’t my place to judge Atley, so I’d confessed my resentment and begun to pray for a potential mate who would share my Plain values and way of life, one who had yielded his life to the Savior. Even so, I wasn’t sure of the way forward.

Reaching now to take my mother’s filled bucket, I carried it and mine as we walked together toward the house. “I wasted nearly a year of my life.”

Mamm nodded sagely. “I’m sure it feels that way, but try not to be hard on yourself.”

I gave her a smile and realized anew how easy it was to get stuck in the past—all the should-haves and what-ifs.

Mamm and I made our way up the wide back porch steps and into the house.

“It still seems like I should’ve sensed something was off beam with Atley, though.”

“Sometimes it’s just not possible, Anna.”

“Well, maybe I should prepare for the future, so it never happens again.”

Mamm stopped and gave me a look. “How?”

“Honestly, I’ve been pondering what to do with my life—the next few years, anyhow,” I admitted as I followed her into the kitchen with the buckets.

Mamm’s eyes widened into soft blue moons as she turned to look at me. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, I set the brimming buckets on the counter without a word, suddenly unsure of myself. I needed to have a specific plan before I broached the topic, but right now, I didn’t have one beyond a desire to do something—anything—other than to keep living life as it was in Mifflinburg.