Almost Amish (16 page)

After they walked out, Susan said, “I’m going to find Kendra and let her know that I want a different driver. Or I want them going by Suburban. Being out on those buggies is dangerous enough when a responsible adult is driving, much less some reckless kid who thinks he’s cool.”

“He’s been nothing but polite and helpful every time I’ve been around him.” Julie didn’t mention that Angie’s face always lit up when he was around, either. She didn’t think that would help in calming Susan.

“Eddie Haskell was always polite in front of parents, too.”

“Susan, why don’t you go finish that wildflower arrangement you were working on before the kids arrived? I’ll go talk to Kendra and let her know about our concerns and see what she says about it.”

Susan looked doubtful, but she had been in major decorating mode, so Julie knew the idea was tempting. “They
will
be filming here on Friday. I really need to keep working on getting this place spruced up.”

“Exactly. Now get busy, and I’ll go see what I can do.” Julie walked out of the farmhouse and into the shack. Kendra wasn’t there, but Chris was. He was sitting on a chair, strumming a guitar. He looked surprised to see Julie.

“Sorry to disturb you. I was looking for Kendra.”

“She’s gone for the afternoon. Something I can help you with?” He swung the guitar to his left hand and stood up.

“Not really. We were just worr—” Julie thought better of what she was about to say, and rephrased. “We were just wondering what the arrangements are for the kids tonight, as far as getting into town.”

He leaned the guitar against the desk. “I’m the designated driver for this evening’s events.”

Julie nodded. “Good. That’s good. And you’ll be driving the . . .”

“The smaller buggy. We can all fit in it, and it’s easier to maneuver than the big one, plus easier for cars to get around.”

Julie nodded and looked down at her hands.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it under the speed limit.” He smiled. “Besides that, we’ve got some lanterns to put on the back. They’re pretty sick, actually. I’m thinking of snagging some to take home and put on my car back in L.A.”

“I’m sure they would make a big hit.”

“Absolutely. So . . . you okay with that plan, or do you want me to cook up something else?”

Was Julie completely relaxed about this plan? No. But if she only allowed her kids to do things that never worried her, she supposed they would be locked up in a padded room somewhere. It sounded like a fun adventure.

“It sounds okay. So will you drop them off and come back here, then, or will you stay there and wait? In case they need to leave early or something.”

“I’ll stay there.”

“The studio wants someone there for security, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure they do, but that’s not why I’m staying.”

“Then why?”

“I’m in the worship band.”

“Oh. Okay. Great.” Julie walked back into the farmhouse and found Susan arranging and rearranging the same flowers. “Well?”

“Let’s just say, arrangements have been made. I think the kids are going to be in fine hands.”

Several hours later, after the dinner dishes were washed and put away, Julie and Susan sat on the back porch and watched the kids loading into the buggy. Brian was about to climb in when Chris shook his head. “Ladies first.”

Angie’s face blushed a deep red, and in spite of obvious effort, she was unable to conceal her grin as Chris offered his hand to help her up. Whitney was next, but just clambered right past Chris’s offered hand. Brian climbed in last, but then crawled over the girls. “We men have to sit together.”

“You can’t even talk to him, remember?” Whitney said.

“We’re men; we don’t need to talk!”

Chris gave a quick glance at Angie before looking back toward Brian and giving him a thumbs-up. As the buggy pulled away from the barn, Julie was convinced that once the buggy disappeared over the first hill, any talking rules would be utterly forgotten.

“From what I’ve seen, that Chris is actually a nice kid.”

“I don’t envy the poor mother whose daughter brings someone like him home. Can you imagine? I guess someone who’s raised a girl with no more common sense than to date a boy with that hairdo deserves what she’s getting, though.” She stood up and stretched. “You want to tackle the downstairs bathroom or the hall closet?”

Julie bit her bottom lip until she trusted herself to answer without laughing. “I’ll take the bathroom, I guess.” How was it that Susan could note a dirty closet from a half-mile away, and yet have no idea about what was happening in her daughter’s heart? For Angie’s sake, Julie hoped the attraction was short-lived, because if it ever came to Susan’s attention, she didn’t think the results would be pretty.

The smell of cleaning solution burned Julie’s nose as she worked on all fours, scrubbing the bathroom floor. The tiny octagonal-shaped tiles looked as if they could very well be as old as the building itself. And she couldn’t be certain if they were once white or if this dingy gray color was actually the color they were intended to be.

No matter. Susan was convinced that they should be white, and so this scrubbing session would continue either until the tile turned white, Susan conceded, or Julie passed out from the fumes. Starting in the far corner, she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. Her back and shoulders ached from the exertion, but she kept pushing. At least now, with the kids away, she didn’t mind Susan’s obsessive need to clean so much. In the evenings, when the kids were home, she wanted to spend a little downtime talking about the day, playing games, whatever it was that a slower lifestyle was supposed to entail. So far, the only thing slower seemed to be the lack of noise and the variety of activities. Now they just worked longer and harder at the same few activities, over and over again.

“My, my, my, aren’t you the industrious one?”

Julie turned toward the voice, but before she could answer, she began coughing. “Hi, Kendra.” She finally got the words out. “I thought you were gone for the day.”

“I’m back. Where is Susan?”

“I think she’s cleaning out the hall closet. Either that, or arranging more flowers, I’m not sure which.”

“I’ll go find her. Why don’t you find a stopping point and come join us? I’ve got a few things to talk to you both about.”

“All right.” Julie wasn’t sure whether she liked the sound of that. But, since there was no other option, she put her brush and gloves in the sink and went to join the others.

She found them standing in the living room, Kendra looking crisp and put together as usual. Susan, however, looked a bit rumpled—like someone who’d had her head in an old musty closet or something. Julie hadn’t seen her own reflection leaving the bathroom and didn’t want to think about what a person who’d been scrubbing fifty-year-old bathroom tile on her hands and knees might look like.

“There are just a couple of things I need to tell you,” Kendra said. “First of all, what are you planning for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Beef stew,” Susan said. Julie knew she had menus for the entire next week in her head.

“Perfect. We’ll be doing a crew sampling.”

“A crew sampling?” Julie held her breath and looked toward Susan, whose jaws were clenched tight.

“Yes. Periodically we’ll get a bit of whatever you’ve cooked for dinner, or breakfast, and take it over to the shack. We’ll give samples to the crew and allow honest feedback. It’ll help give us an idea of whether the average American consumer would prefer more traditionally prepared foods.”

“Okay.” Susan’s head kept nodding as she stared off in the distance. “We can do that. Sure.”

“Secondly, I wanted to let you know that Thomas will be here for the weekend.”

Thomas? Julie realized then how much less her thoughts had turned to him since the beginning of this adventure. “That is wonderful. When will he arrive?”

“Tomorrow night. He’ll be here until Sunday afternoon.”

Susan smiled and nodded. “I’m glad we’re getting the place in such good shape, then.” She gestured around the room. “He would have been appalled if he’d arrived last week.”

“About that . . .” Kendra walked over to the living room table and the glass cup full of artfully arranged flowers. “These all need to go. I’ve done some research, and especially for the more conservative Amish that live in this area, this amount of decoration would never be allowed in their home; it would be considered prideful.”

“But these are from the flower garden that was already planted here, plus the wildflowers that grow down by the creek. God’s creation, not man-made.”

“Turns out, the Swartzentruber Amish don’t grow flowers around their homes. In fact, that will be one of your tasks for this week. Tearing out the flower garden.”

Susan opened her mouth, as if to argue, then shut it. She swallowed hard enough that Julie could see it; then she nodded. “Okay, then. That’s what we’ll do.”

She picked up the plain glass full of beautiful flowers and started toward the back door. “I’ll just go put these in the trash.”

Julie had never seen Susan back down so quickly from anything. She wondered what kind of power she thought Kendra wielded over her.

By the time the
clip-clopping
of hooves sounded from the driveway, every trace of floral decoration had been removed from the house. The glasses had all been scrubbed clean, the hall closet was spotless and organized, and the bathroom floor was still a shade of dirty gray—although Julie would have dared anyone to find a single speck of dirt within the confines of the small bathroom. She walked into the dark back bedroom so she could look out the window without being noticed from outside.

The kids, back from youth group, were singing and laughing. This time, Brian was sitting on the outside edge; beside him was Whitney, next to her, Angie. Angie was saying something, to which Chris replied. They all laughed again.

Chris pulled the wagon into the barn, and Julie could see no more. She went into the living room and sat down with her scissors and some scrap fabric. She cut out squares from the new fabric Rosemary had brought at her last visit, thinking about all that was happening around here, and about Thomas’s upcoming visit. Would he be happy to see them and simply enjoy the visit, or would he look around with eyes that noticed how much had yet to be done? He and Susan, at times, shared more than the same eye color and chin. Julie felt a clench of worry, a feeling she’d begun thinking of as her former life.

The back door squeaked open, and the kids shook the floor as they bounded into the room. Julie kept cutting, trying to appear nonchalant. “How was it?’

“Interesting.” Whitney deposited herself in the middle of the living room floor.

“At first, it was a little bit . . . awkward,” Brian said, toying with the hem of his blue shirt. “But still kind of fun.”

“The kids were a little standoffish, especially in the beginning,” Angie said.

“I think it took them a while to move past these getups.” Whitney motioned toward her skirt and top. “And then the fact that we’re from California seemed to make us suspicious.”

“But, in the end, they mostly moved past all that and it worked out pretty well. Hey, Mom, some of the kids from the youth group help run a weekly club for some kids in one of the poorer neighborhoods. Can I start helping?”

“I don’t know, Whitney. It took a lot of convincing just to get them to let you go tonight. I’ll see what I can do, though.”

“Well, as long as we can keep going to youth group. I really liked it.” Angie smiled.

“I thought the music was excellent, didn’t you?” Whitney looked at her cousin, and they exchanged a grin.

Julie looked toward Susan, who seemed completely oblivious to the exchange that was happening. “Okay, off to bed with you all. We’ve got lots of work to do tomorrow.”

“Good night.” Angie practically sighed the words as she floated up the stairs, one graceful step at a time.

Susan stood at the counter chopping carrots into half-inch discs. Kendra’s alert about the taste test—or was it a warning; everything Kendra said seemed like a threat or a warning—rang in her mind. The crew
had
to think this was the best stew they’d ever tasted; there was absolutely no margin for error. At all. Carrots done, she reached next for an onion and concentrated on dicing it into perfect, even pieces.