Footprints in the Sand (2 page)

Chapter 2

W
hile he capped the tubes of paint and cleaned his brushes, Levi Fisher reflected on how different things were now. Just a few days ago, he would have been excited to have a commission to do a customized hex sign, especially one for a couple about to be married, a couple he knew to be such nice people. But since the awful thing had happened on the beach, he couldn’t find enthusiasm for anything. He had been enveloped by a painful mental darkness.

As the child of Amish parents, Levi had been raised to live separate from the world and embrace instead his family and the Amish community. As an Amish adult, he would be expected to honor history and tradition, turn the other cheek, and lead a simple life through the practice of humility, modesty, thrift, and peacefulness. It would always be his sacred duty to surrender to the will of God and submit to the authority of his Amish community and its rules. Setting rules and limits and respecting them were the keys to wisdom and fulfillment, and to becoming Christlike.

Living an Amish life required commitment. It wasn’t something you were simply born into. It had to be something chosen. That’s why, at the cusp of adulthood, Levi and others his age who’d been raised in Amish homes were given a choice: Were they going to accept the Amish faith as their own or turn their backs on it?

How could one be expected to make an informed, independent decision unless there were experiences of the outside world?
Rumspringa
was the Amish response to that question. From the Pennsylvania Dutch for “running around,”
rumspringa
was a time when teenagers were allowed to relax the rules and know enough freedom to have their curiosity about the other world satisfied.

While Levi still lived at home and had all the same obligations and responsibilities as before, his parents and the church leaders had looked the other way as he’d been experimenting with his newfound freedom. He had tried smoking, which he hated. Alcohol tasted bad, but it left him feeling good at first until it left him feeling sick the next day. Still, it gave him courage to approach girls and work up the nerve to kiss them.

The private bedroom he’d been given allowed him to sneak out at night to meet up with friends or dates. He’d been taking full advantage of it. Until that night on the beach had gone so terribly wrong.

Levi looked up as the door to the gift shop opened. His sister entered, carrying a tray.

“I have brought your lunch,” she said. “Your favorites. Chicken and dumplings and shoofly pie.” She waited for Levi to clear a space on his worktable.

“Thank you, Miriam,” said Levi, “but I am not hungry.”

“What is the matter?” she asked. “Are you unwell?”

“I am fine. I am just not hungry.”

Miriam stared at her younger brother. “Something is wrong, Levi. I know it is. You have not shown any appetite in the last few days, when you usually eat like a horse. And you have been walking around with the glummest expression on your face. What is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” said Levi.

“I do not believe you.”

“Shh,” said Levi, looking around the shop. “People can hear you.”

“Come outside with me, then.” Miriam put down the tray, turned, and walked out of the store. Levi reluctantly followed.

They found a secluded spot behind the shop. A stiff breeze whipped at the bottom of Miriam’s blue cotton dress, and a wisp of brown hair blew free from beneath her cap. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down to keep warm. Her dark eyes stared directly into her brother’s.

“I think I know what it is,” she said. “I know why you are so preoccupied and worried.”

Levi looked startled. “How could you possibly know?” he asked. “I have not told anybody.”

“I know you so well, Levi. Go ahead, you can tell me. It will make it easier if you say it out loud.”

She waited as her brother stood there, wringing his hands. She could tell he ached to unburden himself, yet he kept silent.

“All right,” said Miriam. “I will say it for you.”

“Do not say it,” said Levi.

“Yes,” she insisted. “It will not be the end of the world, Levi. I will always love you, no matter what.”

Embarrassed and ashamed, Levi held his breath as he looked down at his shoes. Miriam reached out and took hold of her brother’s arm.

“It is all right, Levi. It is all right if you have decided to make the break from us. It is all right if you do not feel you can make a lifelong commitment to our Amish ways. It is all right if you do not want to take the vows that will keep you forever separated from the world. You have to follow your heart, Levi. You have to do what
you
think is right. Uncle Isaac did it—you can, too. Even though I cannot see him anymore, it would not be the same with you. I would find a way.”

Levi let out a deep sigh. “Is that what you thought?” he asked. “You could not be more wrong, Miriam. Never in my life have I been more certain that the Amish way is the life for me. I wish with all my heart that I had never, ever wandered.”

Chapter 3

A
fter consuming crab-cake sandwiches and sharing two huge pieces of Fisher’s famous peanut-butter cream pie, Piper and her parents got back into the rental car and headed for Siesta Key, one of the barrier islands off the coast of Sarasota. Though they usually stayed with their relatives when they came down, Terri had insisted on checking into a hotel this time, knowing that there would be so much wedding-related activity going on. The last things either Nora or Kathy Leeds needed this week were houseguests. Kathy had booked them rooms at greatly reduced rates at the inn where she worked as an assistant manager.

“Welcome to Whispering Sands,” said the attendant as he opened the car door. “I’ll get your bags for you and have them sent to your rooms.”

They entered through the double doorway to the Spanish-style villa and onto a spacious terra-cotta-tiled patio shaded by palm and papaya trees and edged with purple and pink bougainvillea. To the left of the patio was a large reception area furnished with rattan chairs and overstuffed sofas covered in lavender linen. Planters filled with purple dendrobium orchids were carefully placed around the room. Against the longest wall, there was a mosaic depicting a solitary white heron standing on one leg on the beach and serenely looking out at the blue-green water.

The mosaic had been inspired by the view at the far end of the patio. Acres of soft white sand led directly to the Gulf of Mexico and an open expanse of blue-green water. Big brown pelicans floated in the gently lapping surf. Sandpipers and plovers skittered across the sand.

“Look!” Piper pointed excitedly. “I saw a dolphin’s fin bobbing out there.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a shark?” asked Vin as he squinted to see.

“No, Dad,” Piper said patiently. “It was a dolphin. Look! There it is again!”

All three of them stared transfixed as the creature emerged for air, then quickly dove beneath the surface again, its tail flapping in a salute before it disappeared.

“Isn’t nature wonderful?” asked Terri.

“Amazing,” said Piper.

A voice distracted them from the mesmerizing view. They turned to see a short blond woman with brilliant blue eyes walking toward them, her arms wide open and a bright smile on her face.

“You’re here!” Kathy Leeds said, leaning forward to embrace her aunt. Piper noticed that her cousin looked thinner than the last time Piper had seen her, but she quickly wrote it off to typical bride shrinkage.

“How was your flight?” Kathy asked when the welcoming hugs and kisses were completed.

“It was fine,” said Piper. “But getting up at five
A.M.
is brutal.”

Vin nodded. “Especially when you leave things to the last minute and stay up until one in the morning packing.”

“I know,” said Piper. “I’m going to get around to being more organized.” She grinned, knowing she’d made that promise before.

Terri reached out to take her niece’s hand. “Robert and Zara wanted me to tell you again how sorry they are to miss the wedding, Kathy. Zara is having such miserable morning sickness.”

Piper spoke up. “It’s not just morning. It’s all day long. Some days she barely gets out of bed.” Her tone betrayed some skepticism at her sister-in-law’s behavior. Zara could be so dramatic, thought Piper. And not in a good way.

“Well, we’ll miss them both,” said Kathy, “but we understand. You must be so excited about a new baby in the family.”

“Oh, we are,” said Terri, smiling so broadly that her eyes squinted almost shut. “I can’t wait to be a grandmother.”

“Now, your rooms are all ready for you if you want to get settled in and take a nap,” said Kathy. “Mom is having dinner for us at her place tonight. We’re just so glad you’re here.”

As they walked back through the reception area, Piper pointed to the mosaic. “That is so beautiful,” she said. “Look at the intricate workmanship.”

“It is, isn’t it? We used to have another one, a companion piece with sea turtles, but it was stolen,” said Kathy. “Actually, we’ve had a number of thefts in the last few months.”

Chapter 4

C
ryder Robbins, M.D., smiled with satisfaction as he straightened the row of small ivory figurines on his desk. He had quite a collection of netsuke now, begun when he’d first traveled to Japan some years ago and continued ever since. He was interested only in the ones made before ivory from elephants became illegal. Netsuke cut from woven cane, lacquered wood, clay, or nutshells held no excitement for him.

Cryder picked up the carved figure of Hotei, the legendary god of happiness and abundance, and rubbed its fat, round belly. It was the first netsuke he’d bought, paying just a few hundred dollars for it. And it certainly had brought him good luck. His medical practice was thriving, so much so that he could well afford to pay for more valuable figurines now. Depending on rarity, artistry, and age, there were netsuke for which Cryder was willing to pay thousands.

Turning to his computer, he entered the Internet address for the Web site of his favorite netsuke gallery. He had his eye on a full-moon rabbit, carved in a perfect sphere and signed by the artist over three hundred years ago. In Asian folklore, female rabbits conceive through the touch of the full moon’s light, or by crossing water by moonlight, or by licking moonlight from a male rabbit’s fur. Often weary of the scientific nature of his profession, Cryder was drawn to the whimsy captured in these prized figurines.

The dealer wanted sixteen thousand dollars for the full-moon rabbit. Cryder was admiring the image and considering whether he should go for it when there was a knock on the office door.

“Come in,” he called, clicking to make the computer screen go blank.

His wife poked her head into the office. “Busy morning,” she said, smiling brightly as she walked in and took a seat in the chair across the desk. Small and trim from her careful diet and morning walks on the beach, she sat up straight.

“Yes, Umiko,” he said. “Very productive.” He scratched the deep cleft in his chin, the one Umiko said made him look like Michael Douglas.

“Your next appointment isn’t until two o’clock. Want to go out and have lunch?” she asked.

He loved Umiko, and even though it had been his idea, having her work as his receptionist could get to be too much. Sometimes he felt stifled by the excessive togetherness. But Umiko had been loyal to him all these years, and he trusted her implicitly.

“Sure,” he said, standing up and shedding his lab coat. “Where do you want to go?”

“Someplace where we can get something light,” said Umiko as she pushed a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear. “We have dinner at Nora Leeds’s tonight, and I know she’ll go all out.”

Cryder’s tanned brow furrowed as he let out a deep sigh. “The dinner and that cruise and the Jungle Gardens trip—we’re expected to do all that and then go to the wedding and reception, too? It’s a bit much, Umiko, isn’t it?”

“It is an honor to be invited, Cryder,” Umiko said softly. “It would be disrespectful not to attend.”

Chapter 5

O
nce Terri and Vin were settled in their soothing, aquatic-themed room, Kathy escorted Piper to hers. Piper towered over her cousin as they walked down the long corridor to the very end of the building.

“The room is smaller than your parents’, but it’s my favorite,” said Kathy as she opened the door.

“This is great,” Piper said enthusiastically, looking inside. A queen-size bed covered with fluffy white pillows and a down comforter dominated the space. A large flat-screen TV hung on the opposite wall. An upholstered chair and a small desk sat at the side. Tucked into an alcove at the rear of the room were a closet and a chest of drawers.

Piper walked across the room to inspect the bathroom. A large soaking tub sat beneath a picture window. She peered out and squealed with delight.

“Are you kidding? My own private pool?” she asked.

Kathy nodded, smiling. “Come on. Let’s go out there.”

At the rear of the suite, a door led out to a small, secluded garden. The wooden walls were tall enough that no one without a ladder could possibly see over them. In the corner a small fountain surrounded by orange hibiscus sprayed water into the air. Two padded lounge chairs sat on soft white sand adjacent to the compact lap pool.

“There’s a retractable awning,” said Kathy, pointing to a switch by the door. “I know how you hate the sun.”

“Uh, this is everything,” said Piper as she plopped down on a lounge chair. “I’m never leaving.”

“I thought you’d like it,” said Kathy with satisfaction. She lowered herself into the other chair and put up her feet. “Nothing but the best for my maid of honor.”

“Wait a minute,” said Piper as she got up and headed inside again. “I have something I want to show you.”

When she returned, Piper held the little box she’d carried on her lap during the plane ride. Now she opened the lid.

“Look at this,” she said as she pulled out a delicate white circle and held it up with her long, slender fingers.

“A sand dollar?” asked Kathy.

“Yes, but I didn’t find it on the beach. I made it and the other ones in here from sugar. They’re going to decorate your wedding cake.”

“Oh, Piper!” Kathy exclaimed, her eyes glistening. “How beautiful!”

Piper studied her cousin’s face. The two of them had known each other all their lives, having been born only three months apart, and while Kathy was smiling now, Piper sensed something else. Was it tension? Worry? Fear?

“So how’s it going?” she asked. “Are you flipping out yet? I remember when I was planning
my
wedding. I thought I’d go out of my mind. And I didn’t even get anywhere near the final days.”

Kathy looked with sympathy at Piper. “How are
you
?” she asked. “I can’t tell you how much I admire the way you handled everything, Piper. That had to be so rough.”

“Yeah, it was pretty devastating at first,” said Piper as she reached over and ran her fingers through the sand. “But I realized I was more embarrassed by the cancellation than sad about the fact that Gordon and I weren’t going to be married. Now I know it was for the best. By breaking off the engagement, he really ended up doing me a huge favor.”

“How so?” asked Kathy. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

Piper considered the question. “I did, or at least I thought I did. But whenever I think about him now, I have this feeling of relief. We really didn’t have what it takes to go the distance. Not like you and Dan.”

Kathy laid her head against the lounge chair’s pillow and looked up at the sky. “I’m lucky, Piper, and I know it. Lucky to be totally sure that Dan is the one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Now, if we can just get through the wedding.”

“So many details and decisions, right?”

“Most of those have been taken care of by now,” said Kathy. “You know how organized my mother is. She’s been great.”

“Then what’s the problem?” asked Piper.

Kathy looked at Piper with distress. “Shelley Hart, a girl who works with me here at the inn, has become one of my best friends, and I asked her to my bridesmaid. No one has seen or heard from her for the last three days.”