Almost Amish (32 page)

Wow. Whatever Susan had expected to hear, that was not it. She couldn’t take the intensity of his gaze any longer and turned away.

Down at the water’s edge a couple of birds sang greetings back and forth to each other, perhaps commenting on the pleasant sound of the water gurgling past, or the nice flavor of this morning’s breakfast, or maybe planning an outing later in the afternoon. Life was so simple for animals. “I’m leaving today.”

“I see.” He plucked another blade of grass. “What happened?”

She told him the story, the part of it he didn’t already know. She shrugged. “I thought coming here was going to make everything okay, but instead it’s ruined everything.”

“I don’t know that I’d say that. Sounds to me like you might have found the thing that is most important. Maybe that is all the success you needed here.” He looked out toward the creek and nodded. “I’d like to come visit you sometime, if that’s all right with you.”

“I’d like that.” She knew it was just talk, would likely never come to pass, but it frightened her just how much she meant those words. “I’ve . . . got to go.” She stood up and started back toward the house.

Julie sat at the kitchen table, daydreaming about moving here, or at least to a little farm somewhere. No phone, no Internet. How much nicer would life be then? But if Susan decided to stand up to Kendra, it could vanish at any second.

The sound of the kids pounding down the stairs interrupted her thoughts and turned her attention back to reality. Whitney led the charge as they walked through the kitchen on their way to the barn, apparently oblivious to Julie even sitting there. Whitney called back toward her brother, “You are crazy. I did the chickens yesterday. It’s my turn to feed the goats.”

Brian grabbed his boots and started hopping into one. “You did do the chickens yesterday, but I had to feed them two days in a row last week because you were running late, remember? I’m taking my repayment today. You’re on chicken duty.”

“Come on, I never said I would pay you back for that.”

“All right, then. Let’s just pretend I’m running late today. You can do both jobs.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll feed your stinking chickens.” She stood up and bounded out the door, her blond ringlets bouncing behind her. Julie watched them go, thinking how happy they seemed here, too. The argument over feeding chickens had all been in good humor. At home, the kids were so busy running their different directions that their interactions were usually shorter and much terser.

Julie walked over to the stove and stirred the oatmeal, then sliced some of yesterday’s bread and put it in the oven for toast. She poured milk in all the glasses and set the table. Before long, the kids came clamoring back. Whitney took a big gulp of milk. “So, Mom, today is mid-terms, then we’ve got a week off school. I’m thinking, maybe we drive into town for ice cream to celebrate. What do you think?”

“Well, I’m not really sure.”

“What’s there not to be sure about? It’s supposed to be
rumspringa
, right? How about just the kids go into town? That should work, right?”

“Whitney, we’ll talk about it when you get back from school.”

Angie sat at the table, stirring her oatmeal without taking a bite. “Where’s Mom?”

“She went for a walk.”

Angie nodded and turned her attention back to her bowl. She looked up at Julie, then back down.

Julie didn’t think it was her place to tell Angie about the recording, so she remained quiet during breakfast. When they’d finished, she said, “Okay, kids, time to take off for school.”

They each carried bowls and cups over to the sink. On the way out the door, Angie turned. “Will you tell Mom . . .” She paused, then stood with her hand on the doorframe. “Tell her I said, ‘Thank you.’ ”

Julie nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her.”

“Good.” Angie turned and hurried out to catch up with the other kids.

As Susan approached the door of the shack, she considered opening it and saying, “Knock, knock”—see how Kendra liked it. But she wouldn’t do that. Neither would she bother to knock. She opened the door and walked in.

The room was empty.

So much for her grand showdown. She turned and started to the farmhouse when she noticed Julie doing a load of laundry, so she changed course.

Julie didn’t miss a beat as she pulled the lever back and forth, but she did look up and smile. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“Why is it you like it so much?” Even without the current looming disaster, conditions here were primitive enough that Susan had been counting the days back to the real world.

“It’s like everything I do here is for a reason. Washing the clothes is hard, but I understand the necessity for it. Cooking in the wood stove is hard, and hot, but my family needs to eat.” The water made swooshing sounds, as if saying,
has a reason, has a reason
. “When I get to the real world, there are so many things that consume my time, and most of them I just don’t think are necessary.”

Susan nodded, supposing that she understood to some degree. “I think most of the things you do are for a reason.”

“Maybe it’s just not my reason. Like for instance, school events. In elementary school we spent hours planning and preparing for Back to School Night so that the parents can get to know their children’s teacher. Obviously important. But there’s also the Back to School Picnic a couple of weeks later, so the parents can get to know each other. Again something that is important. And so is Thomas’s staff party, and since Whitney is on the volleyball team it’s only fair that I am team mother, and since Brian is in the science club, of course I should host their back-to-school party. It goes on and on. They’re all important, and it amounts to a huge amount of work that overlaps each other, and instead of being intentional about my day, I end up reacting to the urgent. I don’t have time for my kids when they need to talk—and they don’t even have time to talk because they’re so busy.”

“You know, as much as I hate to admit that Rosemary has anything worthwhile to say, maybe she does have a point. Maybe we all need to focus our time a little more closely with where our talents and interests are.”

“What would that be for me, Susan? Starting a quilting club?” She shook her head and looked out into the distance.

Susan put her hand over Julie’s on the handle and stopped her from pulling it. She looked her sister-in-law dead in the eye. “I’m glad I could come here and do this, just so I could fully realize what I’ve got in you. I can’t imagine the ways that we all take you for granted in the real world.”

Julie reached up and wiped away a single tear from her left cheek. “Thank you.”

A black Suburban pulled up the driveway and came to a stop outside the shack. Kendra and a couple other crew members emerged from the backseat. Susan took a deep breath and moved to meet her. “Kendra, we need to talk.”

“Okay.”

The cameraman held his camera on his shoulder, ready to capture every last bit of the drama. Susan let that serve to motivate her. If she was going to go down in flames for all of America to see, then she’d best make it good. “I know that you captured a very personal conversation between my daughter and me last night. I also understand that per my contract you are allowed to use it for your show, even if I don’t want you to do so.”

“That’s correct.”

“What’s legal is legal, and I can’t argue that. But what’s right is right, and I will fight for that. Last night was a breakthrough moment in my family. To have it broadcast would be more than embarrassing for my daughter. While I acknowledge you fully have the right to do it, I want you to understand that, contract or not, we will walk off this show. I’m prepared to pack my bags right now and leave.”

“You know that we can sue you for this.”

“And I expect that you will. But I would rather be bankrupt than to live in a home with a daughter who knows that her mother didn’t stand up at a time like this. I will do the right thing by her no matter what it costs me, and there is no negotiating that. Period.”

“I see.” Kendra looked at the cameraman, barely able to suppress a grin. “Well, thank you for your thoughts. Just go about your day as usual until I find out what the executive producers want us to do. I hate for our season to end this way. I hope you’ll reconsider while I’m working out the details.”

“I won’t.” Susan turned and walked back over to help Julie with the laundry.

The last of the laundry fluttered on the line. Julie looked toward the shack for the thousandth time, waiting for Kendra to walk out and tell them it was over. She did come and go a lot through the course of the morning, but she never so much as glanced in their direction.

“Shall we go pick a couple of tomatoes for lunch?” Susan sounded so tired. Defeated even.

“So what’s your thinking on talking to the kids?” Julie waited until they were well away from the house and any potential cameras. “Wait until we get the final word from Kendra and tell them it’s time to pack up, or should we give them a little forewarning?”

Susan reached down and plucked a tomato from the vine, then stood up and wiped her forehead. “It’s funny. Two years ago, I thought I knew all the answers about everything. I knew the right way to do everything. Now, here I stand, in the middle of a vegetable garden in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do about much of anything. Including my own child—and I certainly thought I had all the answers there.” She bent down to pick another tomato. “What do you think we should do?”

Julie looked in the direction of the house, then toward the school. “Maybe we should wait. I keep praying that there will be a breakthrough and we’ll actually get to stay.”

Susan nodded. “So do I.”

“You know, today is mid-terms. Why don’t we go put these in the kitchen and take a walk over that way? We can maybe catch them at lunchtime and find out how it is going.”

“Funny that you’re the one suggesting that we walk to the school instead of me, isn’t it?” Susan shook her head. “You want to go see how the kids feel about their test, and I’ve always wanted to go and see if the teacher is doing a good enough job. I think I need to work on being more people-focused and less task-focused. I should be more like you.”

Julie laughed outright. “Oh, Susan, you are having a hard day, aren’t you?” She laughed a little more, even wiping a tear. “I think we can all agree that we don’t want a world full of Julies running around. Nothing would ever get accomplished.” Julie sighed. “You have so many gifts. I wish I could have just a few of them.”

“Well, let’s take our various gifts and go see what’s happening at the school, shall we?” Susan linked her arm through Julie’s, and they walked into the house.

They’d made it only as far as the barn, though, when they heard the sound of the kids’ voices. Sure enough, teenagers on scooters crested the hill. Julie reached her hand up high to wave.

“Mom, Aunt Susan, we have lots to tell you.” Whitney pumped faster and was the first to arrive. She came to a skidding stop, sending a cloud of dust toward Julie and Susan. “Oh, sorry.” She shrugged, but hardly missed a beat. “You’re not going to believe this one.”

“What?” Julie and Susan asked the question in unison.

“We’re going into Nashville for the evening!”

“Say what?”

Brian arrived, breathless from the chase. “That’s right. The whole family.”

Whitney nodded her agreement. “We can wear our own clothes and everything. We get to go to the mall, out for a nice dinner, the whole bit. Gary is taking us in one of the Suburbans. And there won’t be any cameras, just us, having fun.”

“Who told you this?” Did this mean they were leaving? Julie looked toward Susan, who looked even more confused than Julie felt.

Angie was the last to arrive. She looked anxiously toward her mother. “Gary came to the school and told us. He said that the two of you are coming, too.”

“What about your exams?” Susan asked.

“We finished them already. We all did great, don’t you worry,” Whitney said. “And we had some good news at the schoolhouse today, too, but I’ll let the appropriate person share that at the appropriate time.”

The following silence from the teenage crowd, including lack of eye contact, made Julie wonder if Whitney hadn’t spoken a bit prematurely about something that wasn’t ready to be shared. Angie studied her handlebars, and Brian scratched his chin with his shoulder.

“So, anyway . . .” Whitney looked around. “Everyone go get dressed in your favorite civvies. We’re heading into the big city for the night.”

Gary came walking down the hill about then. “I gather that I am a little late to be the one to deliver the news.”

“Just a bit.” Susan looked at him, suspicion on her face. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Kendra told me she thought you all needed a night off. She asked me if I would be willing to take you to Nashville for the evening. I’ve already made dinner reservations”—he looked at the girls—“at a restaurant in the mall.”