Lorie's Heart (12 page)

He shook his head.

“Uh-huh.” His mother didn't sound convinced. “That's not what Stan says.”

“Stan has a big mouth.”

“Seems to me that Eugene might have mentioned it once or twice as well. What I want to know is when I get to meet her?”

Zach tucked his phone into his pocket and tried not to frown. “You don't.”

His mother stopped folding a towel and looked at him. Really looked at him with those mother's eyes that seemed to see straight through everything to the heart of the matter. “Did you two have an argument?”

“Nothing like that.”

“I guess I don't understand.”

“You have met her.” There. Let her make what she would of that.

“I have?”

“She's Betty's granddaughter.”

“Betty Mathis? Wait . . . the Amish girl?”

“Yeah.”

She stopped folding clothes to give him another of those looks. “Then I really don't understand.”

“There's nothing to understand. I think she's beautiful and funny. She's sweet and kind.” He sighed. “In fact, she may be the best person I've ever met. But she's joining the church and getting married.”

His mother's eyes lit with recognition. “She's the reason you asked me all those questions about the Amish on the way home from the auction.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Yeah. That was the first time I met her. I never thought I would see her again, then one day I turn around at the center, and there she is.”

“And it felt a lot like fate.” His mother understood more than she realized. How could it not be fate or the hand of God that brought them together? How in this big ol' world had they found each other not once but twice? And if their meeting did have something to do with a higher power, then why did any further relationship seem as distant as the stars?

He didn't have those answers.

He shook those thoughts away and stood. “I think I'll go to the gym.” Maybe a good run on the treadmill would help him clear his head.

“You don't want to stay and help with the laundry?” She flashed him a teasing smile.

“But you fold clothes so much better than I ever could.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

“Charmer.”

Didn't he wish. Maybe then he could convince Lorie to come to Tulsa one more time. With a shake of his head he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

 

 

She wasn't going to call him. She wasn't going to call him. As much as she wanted to know if the Watergate salad was Betty's mystery leprechaun pudding, what difference did it make really? It wasn't like she had any other ideas. It wasn't like anything had changed between her and Zach. A phone call would only muddy the waters, and she was just about able to see the bottom.

She tucked her hand into her pocket and fingered the card that Zach had given her. It was creased and bent, even smudged in a few places because she had it with her at all times. She told herself it was to keep anyone else from finding it. But she knew the truth. She wanted a piece of him to keep with her.

She rolled her eyes at her own foolish thoughts. She should be ashamed of herself. More than ashamed. Her prayers tonight would be lengthy. Except when she started to pray, her mind went blank. She couldn't remember one thing that she needed to confess, one thing she needed to ask for. All she could manage were small prayers for her family and a request for peace. So far that prayer had been unanswered.

“I'm going down to the post office.” She grabbed up the letters sitting by the cash register and fanned herself with them.

“Fred Conrad should be by any minute to get them,”
Mamm
said with a frown.

“I could use the fresh air,” Lorie explained, hoping
Mamm
wouldn't protest further. The walls were closing in on her. She just needed to get out for a minute or two before the early dinner crowd started to arrive.

“It's okay.” Sadie shot
Mamm
a hard look. “We've got everything under control here.”

“
Jah.
Okay,”
Mamm
said. Another look passed between stepmother and daughter.

Lorie had the feeling they had been talking about her. The thought set uncomfortably in her craw. “I'll be back in a little bit.”

She felt their eyes on her back as she headed for the door, but she refused to turn around and examine their expressions. Whatever secret they were keeping . . . well, she would let them have it in order to keep her own.

The sun was bright and hot, typical late June weather in Oklahoma. Lorie resisted the urge to twirl around in her skirt to cool herself. Twirling was not exactly a mourning activity. Instead she fanned herself with the letters as she made her way to the post office.

Wells Landing was in full swing. Buggies and cars alike inched along the streets. The market was open for business. Farms and vendors sold their wares next to the crafters and quilters. Sometimes Lorie envied the people who worked the market. They seemed to have so much more freedom than she enjoyed. Or maybe it was being outside that she envied. Then again it could be something entirely different.

Whatever it was, a longing rose up inside her. She tried to press it back down, but it kept rising like the ocean she had seen on the TV at the hardware store. A hurricane they had called it, with waves taller than a house. But unlike the hurricane, she should be able to ignore this longing, this whatever it was and go on. Was she the only one who felt this way? Did all the other Amish folks go through this? Whether they did or they didn't, it was something Lorie had never heard anyone discuss. That was the thing about Amish. They were a private people. Private even as individuals.

“Excuse me.” She had been so buried in her thoughts that she ran smack into a man standing in front of the hardware store. “Oh, hi, Merv.”

He smiled at her, revealing his white, white teeth. Secretly Lorie thought he used some of the whitener she had seen at the drugstore, but that would be vain and for an Amish man, not appropriate.

“Well, hello yourself, Lorie Kauffman.
Wie geht?
”

“
Gut, gut,
” she said. It wasn't really a lie. And it wasn't like she could tell this man her doubts and fears.

“Getting ready to join the church, I see.”

She nodded.

“When it gets to be too much for you, come out and see me.”

“I'm sorry?” Did she hear him right?

“The classes and the pressure. The trying to decide what to do. When all that becomes too much, come out to the house and see me.”

“But—” she protested, not finishing the thought.
How do you know? What do you mean?

He smiled at her again. “We'll talk then.” He turned on his heel and sauntered away.

Lorie watched him go, confusion paralyzing her feet. How long she stood there watching him walk away she didn't know. She watched him until she couldn't see him any longer, then she kept watching just in case.

Merv King was a different soul. He kept to himself, making coffins that the Amish were buried in. He didn't have a wife that anyone knew of. And according to the talk at the sewing circles, he'd just appeared one day and that was that. Somehow over the years he'd become part of the community, yet he always seemed a little to the outside. Like he was one of them, but not. Somehow separate.

Of course if he went around telling people things like he'd just told her, she could see why everyone thought he was a little strange. Still, there was something about the man. She just didn't know what it was.

She pushed the thought away and walked on toward the post office.

Was she out of her mind for coming here?

She set the brake on the buggy and tied the horse to a nearby hitching post.

Most probably. But here she was. Merv King's house.

In her defense, she hadn't planned on coming here. She had started off down the road to Bacon Dan's house. The Kauffman hens were having trouble laying right now. A coyote or bobcat was bothering them at night, and they seemed agitated and ruffled. Bacon Dan sold eggs in his roadside stand, and since he was their closest neighbor, she had set off to his house to collect some eggs.

The eggs were in the back of the buggy waiting for her to return home, but first . . .

It was only another mile out to Merv King's house. She started toward the workshop off to one side of the house. The whine of the gas-powered saws met her ears as she walked.

He had said to come by if she needed to talk. How did he know she needed to talk? Did he know what it was about?

These were only a few of the questions she hoped he would answer for her.

She snorted, then covered her mouth with one hand. She was being ridiculous. Her
mamm
was waiting for the eggs. They were making pies for Esther and Abe Fitch. Lorie thought it was sort of dumb to make pies for the bakery shop owner, but a table fell on Abe in his workshop, and he had to have surgery on his ankle. Since he was laid up, it was customary for the community to help in providing food and assistance. Lorie would have thought a pot roast would have been a fine contribution, but
Mamm
had insisted on pies.

Secretly Lorie thought Maddie fancied her crusts better than those of the longtime baker. There had been something of a competition between Esther and Maddie for many years now. Of course, it didn't help that
Mamm
confronted Esther concerning her relationship with Abe Fitch back before they got married. Lorie had been horrified that her stepmother could be so bold, but that was Maddie.

The noise of the saws grew louder as she drew closer to the outbuilding. The air was tinted with the scent of freshly cut pine and the exhaust from the engine.

Why had she come here again? Oh,
jah,
because she was
ab im kopp
. Off in the head. She reached the door, then changed her mind. She shouldn't have come here. Merv's words were just the ramblings of a crazy old man. Except that he wasn't really crazy. Or old. She turned to leave, but his greeting stopped her in her tracks.

“
Oi!
Lorie Kauffman, where are you going? You just got here.”

She stopped in her tracks as a red hound dog came from under the porch to growl at her.

“Don't mind her. She's just cranky. Harmless, but cranky.”

Lorie turned around slowly, twisting one of the strings of her prayer
kapp
around a finger. She was hesitant to present her back to the dog, but she did as she gathered her response to Merv King. “Hi,” she said. Not exactly the smartest thing she'd ever said. But honestly she had no idea why she had come here other than Merv seemed to know something about her that no one else did. How he knew it was anyone's guess.

“Come to talk, did you?” he called over the grind of the saw. He shut off the power and lifted his yellow safety glasses to rest on the top of his head. The cranky dog must have sensed that Lorie was welcome for the mutt crawled back into the cool shade under the porch, leaving the two of them and a handful of ducks in the yard.

Merv looked the same as he did all the other times she had seen him, except today he had headphones in his ears and a small silver rectangle clipped to the waistband of his trousers. An
Englisch
music player.

“I just happened to be out this way.” Lorie released her prayer
kapp
string to twist her fingers in the folds of her black apron.

“Uh-huh.” He lifted the board he'd been cutting and set it off to one side. Lorie took a step closer stopping just short of entering the shed altogether.

Coffins were lined up across the back of the room. All were the plain-looking pine boxes like her father was buried in. Even more were stacked to one side. Two half-finished ones rested end to end on two heavy wooden tables.

“Do you make the coffins for the entire district?”

“
Jah.
For the entire settlement even.”

“That means . . .”

“I made your father's coffin.”

“I miss him,” Lorie said, finally stepping across the threshold. The scent of wood was even stronger inside and wasn't unpleasant even mixed with the odor of burnt motor oil. At least that's what she thought the smell was.

“Of course you do.” He pulled the little bud things from his ears and tucked them under the edge of his suspenders. “You won't tell anyone about it, will you?”

She shook her head.

“Good. It'll be our little secret.”

“So what do you listen to?”

He smiled. “All sorts of things. I have the Bible on here.”

Lorie blinked and pointed to the tiny device. “On there?” It was so small.

“
Jah,
the whole thing. Someone reads it, and I listen.” Then he winked. “But sometimes I listen to music. Rock and roll.” His face grew dreamy. “Nothing like the Rolling Stones.”

She smiled, though she had no idea what he was talking about. The line of coffins snagged her attention. She allowed her gaze to stick in one place all the while not really seeing what was before her.

“It's okay, you know.”

She stirred and focused on him once again. “What's okay?”

“The
Englisch
world.”

“I . . . I don't understand.”

Merv leaned one hip against the worktable behind him and crossed his arms as if settling in for a long chat. “The bishops all talk about the perils of the
Englisch
world. Technology is bad, some books are a sin. Music is too much of a temptation. But it can't all be bad,
jah?
”

She wasn't sure how to answer so she kept quiet and waited for him to continue.

“There are parts of the
Englisch
world that are good. What would we do without
Englisch
drivers? Or
Englisch
doctors?”

She thought of Daniel and his
Englisch
school. “
Jah.
I s'pose.”

“And then there are
Englisch
friends.”

Her attention snapped back to him once again. “
Freinden?
”

He gave her a quick nod, then picked up another board.

“Why so many coffins?” she asked. Wells Landing wasn't that big of a town. Yet there had to be ten, maybe twelve coffins there in various stages of completion.

Merv looked around at his handiwork. “I'm going on vacation.”

“Really?” Being in the restaurant business didn't leave much time for such things. Lorie had never taken a vacation in her life.

“I'm heading down to Pinecraft for a week.”

Pinecraft was a truly Beachy Amish settlement in Florida. Because of their use of tractors, many called the residents of Wells Landing Beachy though they weren't as liberal as the Amish who lived in Pinecraft.

“Florida,” she whispered.

“Oh,
jah.
I may even stay longer if I meet someone.”

“You're looking to get married?”

He smiled in that way he had that made her feel stupid and sheltered all in the same instance.

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh.”

“You know what they say.”

She didn't.

He chuckled. “What happens in Pinecraft stays in Pinecraft.”

Nor did she know what that meant. “I hope you have a
gut
time.” She turned and started back out of the workshop wondering why she had even come out here.

“Lorie.”

She turned back toward him.

“It is possible to enjoy your life and live Biblically.”

“
Jah.
” She gave him a small wave. “
Danki,
Merv King.”

His words spun round inside her head as she drove back to the house. They were so simple. It was possible to live Biblically and still enjoy life. God didn't want his followers miserable. She knew that as surely as she knew her name. Her father had taught her that. She had seen him, loving the Lord every day, smiling, cooking food for the good people of Wells Landing. He enjoyed his life. And he lived Biblically.

Yes, she could say that. She had seen him pray. She had attended church with him for all the years of her life. He had helped his neighbor in the Amish way and though he had his secrets, when all was brought forth, it was his mother he was visiting. He was a faithful husband, a wonderful father, and a
gut
Amish man.

Whatever reasons he had for lying he had taken with him to the grave.

“Whoa.” She pulled her buggy to the side of the road. Just ahead was a phone shanty. She didn't want to waste any more time. Merv King was right. She could live and love God. And she would start by calling Zach.

She hobbled the horse and let herself into the shanty.

Please answer. Please answer. Please answer
.

The phone rang three times on the other end before he answered. “Hello?”

“Zach? It's me, Lorie.”

“Lorie.” He sounded happy to hear from her. “I didn't think you were going to call.”

“I . . . I wasn't,” she admitted.

“What made you change your mind?”

Merv's face popped into her mind's vision. “It's sort of a long story.”

He laughed. “No matter. I'm just glad that you did.”

“Me too.”

They both fell silent though unlike the other times, this break in the conversation seemed natural.

“Did Betty like the Watergate salad?”

“She did. But it wasn't her leprechaun pudding.”

“It was more of a guess than anything.” She settled onto the small wooden bench and wondered how long she had before her family wondered if she was coming back with the eggs or if she had jumped the fence.

“But it was sweet of you to think about her.”

“How is she doing?”

“If I tell you that she asks for you every day, will you come to visit?” He sighed. “That wasn't fair. I'm sorry.”

“No. It's okay. In fact . . .” She couldn't bring herself to be so forward as to ask outright.

“What?”

She wound the phone cord around her finger until the tip turned white. Then she freed it, watching as the pink rushed back into the digit. “I've been thinking about coming back for a visit.”

“Really?”

She exhaled, realizing only then that she had been holding her breath. “That would be okay?”

“Of course.”

She smiled at his use of her grandmother's favorite phrase. “I'm off next Thursday. Would that be all right?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

But they had yet to discuss the real issue at hand. It hid just below the surface, waiting for someone to notice it.

“Listen,” he started. “I know you've got plans for your life, but we agreed to be friends. Right?”

She wilted with relief and smiled in spite of herself. “Friends,
jah.
I'd like that very much.”

“Pick you up Thursday? Same time, same place?”

“
Jah,
” she said. “I'll be there.”

 

 

“Lorie!” Eugene exclaimed as Zach and Lorie made their way into the living center. A group of the seniors were waiting in the seating area just to the right of the front desk. “We didn't think you'd ever come back.”

“I knew she would.” Betty smiled in that blankly understanding way she had that made Lorie wonder if she really knew what the conversation was about or if she was just speaking in order to keep from feeling left out.

“I missed you all,” Lorie said as they took turns hugging her. Normally the Amish weren't touchy sorts of people. But she loved the affection she received from this mixed group of senior citizens.

“We're going to the mall today,” Stan said, using his cane to point to the minibus waiting outside the center's doors. They had passed it coming in, but she hadn't given it a second thought. Buses like that were commonplace in Wells Landing.

“If the driver ever gets here,” Linda groused.

“The mall?” Lorie didn't bother to ask how the bus got in front of the center if there was no driver.

“Yes, dear.” Betty took her knitting from her big plastic bag and spread it across her lap.

“Do you want to go?” Zach asked.

“To the mall?”

He nodded.

Strangely enough she did. Maybe the mall wasn't what drew her in, but the company she would keep. She loved spending time with the group from table eight. And then there was Zach. She loved spending time with him, too.

She and Jonah might have argued—they might even be broken up—but that didn't mean she could have anything other than friendship with Zach. If that was all she could have, she wanted it.

Enjoy life and live Biblically. That's what she was going to do. Have
Englisch
friends and visit them when she wanted and not worry about the gossiping tongues of others.

“There she is.” Linda nodded toward the woman coming toward the bus. She had tan-colored pants and a royal blue shirt with three little buttons and a soft collar like the ones Lorie had seen men wear into the restaurant.