Almost Amish (35 page)

Had Kendra actually used the word ‘please’? Susan didn’t think she’d ever heard that word from her before. It could be a trick, but what did she have to lose at this point? “All right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good.” Kendra turned and walked out.

Susan couldn’t help but smile as she hurried up the stairs. Still, she didn’t want to get too overly confident, because she still didn’t know what the terms might be, and Kendra had proven to be less than reliable. But there was hope, and that was something she was more than grateful for. Even if it meant cooking on a wood stove for the rest of the time.

When she sat down in the chair, the stylist took extra care making certain her hair was just right and her makeup perfect. Instead of taking her usual spot behind the camera, Kendra came to sit on an arm chair that had been newly installed adjacent to the couch. She nodded toward the camera, then turned toward Susan. “So . . . we’ve had a bit of a conflict this week, haven’t we?”

“Yes.” Susan didn’t want to say more, still uncertain how that might go.

“Would you mind explaining, in your own words, what it was all about?”

“Well”—Susan looked toward the camera, her heart pounding—“my daughter and I had a disagreement this week, a big one. I’m certain all parents of teenagers have experienced this to some degree or another. When it all came to a head, we sat at the kitchen table and had a very long, very meaningful talk—the kind of talk where you don’t hold anything back.” Susan shifted in her seat, trying to think a few steps ahead to what she should and shouldn’t say.

“We were both so upset during the conflict that we failed to think about the cameras that are in the farmhouse, so we talked about some deeply personal things that we would not want anyone else to know, and we certainly wouldn’t want all of America to know.” She cast a pointed glance toward Kendra. “The next morning we became aware that not only had the episode been filmed, but it was going to be the prime footage for the next episode.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“I was furious, of course. Aside from the embarrassment it would cause to me and especially my daughter, everything that we had worked through the night before, all the gains that we’d made, were going to be ruined.”

“And you threatened to leave the show if we used it, correct?”

This was beginning to feel more like a setup than an episode, but Susan couldn’t quite make herself hold back. “It wasn’t a threat; it was a fact.”

Kendra nodded. “You were hoping that this show might help you build your career as an author of cookbooks and lifestyle books.”

“I certainly was hoping that it would at least make the public aware of what I’ve done, what I’m doing.”

“You’d sign with a major publisher and there had been plans about you hosting regular segments on the Lisa Lee show.”

“Yes, that was the hope.”

“What would giving that up mean to you and your family?”

“It means I’ll have to sell my house. I’ll have to find a job that will at least make the rent for us and figure out something else to do with my life.”

“And you are willing to give all that up over one disagreement with the producers?”

“I am willing to give all that up to protect my daughter in any way I can.”

Kendra looked at the cameraman. “Perfect. Cut. That’s exactly what we need.”

Cold dread filled Susan. What had just happened? “I think it’s time you explain to me what this is all about.”

“Here’s the thing. Over the last twenty-four hours we’ve been running an ad showing you threatening to walk out because of something we were going to show about your daughter.”

“Yes, I know.” Susan didn’t offer any more information than that, and continued to look Kendra evenly in the eye.

“Well, the feedback has been amazing and instantaneous. Your approval rating has gone through the roof. We’ve received thousands of texts and calls all supporting you. The Facebook page has never received that much traffic. It’s like they all needed to see the side of you that was doing what was best for your daughter.”

“I always do what is best for my daughter.”

“That may be true, but to our viewers some of that comes across as being overly pushy toward, and on behalf of, your daughter. This”—Kendra gestured toward her—“this was going to cost you and your daughter many things, the kind of things that you are usually fighting to gain. And yet you were willing to give it up to protect something you felt was more important. This one was from the heart. America loves it.”

“All those other things are from the heart, too.” Susan stood up to go.

“Maybe that’s the way you see it, but the people you are steamrolling in the process and the people watching them get steamrolled don’t necessarily see it that way.”

“I do not . . .” Susan stopped. She wouldn’t defend herself. Instead, she was going to spend some time thinking about what she’d just been told. “About the footage?”

Kendra waved dismissively. “It’s gone. Done. We don’t need it when we’ve got something better to show.”

Susan walked back to the farmhouse, and with each step she began to question her entire reason for being. Everything she thought she’d known about herself had proven wrong.

She’d always thought she was one of the best wives around, but James’s leaving called that into question. She had told herself it wasn’t her doing, it was his, and she knew that was true in a lot of ways. Regardless of whether or not she’d been a less than perfect wife, cheating was not an acceptable response.

In the aftermath she had comforted herself with the fact that at least she was the best possible mother. Now she knew that she had totally missed almost everything about Angie that was important, because she was too busy pushing her own agenda. What else was she missing?

She began to think about the one area of her life that had yet to feel the shake-up. She was pretty certain something was missing there, too. A small idea began to grow in the back of her mind. She would get through the morning breakfast and then make an excuse to get away from everyone for a while. This one was going to require some time alone in prayer.

The kitchen door flew open. “Well? What happened?” Julie’s forehead wrinkled in concentration.

“Long story. Short version: we are staying.”

Teenaged cheers erupted from behind Julie. “
Woo-hoo!
”

Susan sat down to remove her boots, but called out loudly enough to be heard in the kitchen. “Which means, barn chores. Now.”

The kids piled out onto the porch and sat beside her. “Good job, Aunt Susan.” Whitney laced up her boots. “I knew you could handle ’em.”

“I never had a doubt.” Brian nodded slowly as he made this pronouncement.

Angie reached over and hugged her. “I love you, Mom.” She stood then, and followed her cousins out the door for the morning chores.

They were staying.

It should have been a relief, but that’s not what Julie felt. She didn’t feel surprised at all, and it worried her. She realized she’d never let herself think about leaving. Even with the imminent threat, she hadn’t planned on going home for one second. It would’ve been too hard to take.

Thankfully, for now at least, she could keep pretending.

Back in the kitchen after Susan’s announcement, the families had gathered for breakfast and it seemed like a good time to plan the day.

“There’s no school today,” Julie said, “so the three of you get to hang out with your mothers today.”

“That sounds”—Whitney pulled her elbow out to the side, made a fist, pumped her arm back and forth like a jaunty pirate—“just
grand
. Nothing we’d rather do than spend every waking moment with our dear old moms, right guys?”

Angie giggled but didn’t say anything. Brian mumbled, “Oh boy,” and took another bite of cinnamon bread.

“But actually, Mother dearest, we have already thought up a plan for what we might want to do this week, if it’s all right with everyone, that is.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, you know how Angie has read a bunch of Amish fiction? She says they all talk about the women getting together to help each other out with things, you know, like quilting, for instance.”

“So you want to have a quilting bee?” Julie couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at this small victory.

“Not quilting, per se, because none of us really enjoys it all that much.” Okay, not quite victorious. “And we all pretty much stink at it except for you. But she said there is something called an applesauce frolic. Apparently this is when women all get together and spend the day making applesauce.”

“And you want to spend the day making applesauce?”

Whitney shook her head. “Not so much. None of us are all that excited about applesauce, either.”

“Then what is it, exactly, that you are wanting to do?”

Whitney twisted her arms together, placed them on the table, and leaned forward, an angelic smile on her face. “We thought maybe we’d have a pie and cookie frolic.”

“A pie and cookie frolic?”

“Yeah, and instead of inviting all the women of the community, we can invite all the kids from the youth group. They’re all curious about what we’re doing here. And if I remember correctly, Kendra told us on the first day that we could have friends over here. Isn’t that true?”

“I’m shocked that you actually heard her.”

“Much less that you can remember that far back.” Brian shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth, dodging his sister’s elbow in the process.

“I don’t know. What do you think, Susan?” Julie didn’t really need to ask what Susan thought, because she knew exactly what she’d say.

No.

Too un-Amish. Too hectic. And certainly too unhealthy. Having a whole party built around making and eating pies and cookies . . . well, that wasn’t going to work for her. The sheer bulk of butter and sugar involved would send her over the edge.

Susan, who had been at the kitchen sink scrubbing things since she returned from her interview with Kendra, glanced up from her task. She simply looked at the kids for a moment, thinking through her answer. “I don’t see why not.” She paused a moment. “Yes. Why don’t we do that? When do you have in mind?”

Angie looked up with her mouth slightly open. Julie was certain she must look much the same way.

If Whitney noticed anything unusual, she gave no sign of it; she simply pressed forward with her plan. “How about next week? We can invite them all tomorrow night at youth group. That’ll give everyone time to plan accordingly. Maybe next Friday night?”

“Sounds good to me.” Susan turned back to her task of washing dishes, but there was a smile on her face.

It sounded good to Julie, too. A bunch of kids coming over to make pies and cookies, to spend time together when it would not involve texting, or video games, or television. This is what the simple life was all about.

“Let’s make up some invitations. We’ll hand them out tomorrow night.” Whitney had turned her attention back to the teenagers.

Julie loved hearing the excitement in her voice. It was a sound that was rarely heard during the school year, between copious amounts of homework and long volleyball practices.

Julie realized she wasn’t the only one who needed this kind of life. Whether they realized it or would admit it, her kids did, too. Now Julie just needed to find a way to keep it. For all of them.

Julie savored a moment in the living room, watching the kids design invitations. The girls were giggling and laughing, with Brian rolling his eyes almost as often. Still, he had a grin on his face that let Julie know he was glad to be included in this bit of “women’s work.”

“We need to find something more interesting and manly for the guys to do. We’re not going to stand around and bake pies and cookies; that much is sure.”

“You could have a barn raising.” Angie stared up at him with just enough dare in her eyes that all three of them burst out laughing.

“Maybe not quite
that
manly. Although . . .” He rubbed his chin. “We could help Gary start working on that old fence he wants to fix up around the horse corral. A fence raising, if you will.”