Lorie's Heart (13 page)

“Let's go then.” Stan tried to pull himself out of the couch, but the cushions had settled, leaving him stranded. “Can someone pull me up?”

Tiny little Fern moved in front of him and held her arms out for him to take.

If she was going to pull on Stan, who was going to pull on her?

“Let me.” Zach gently urged Fern aside and hoisted Stan to his feet.

The old man slapped him on the arm in thanks and shuffled toward the bus.

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to Woodland Hills Mall.

Lorie swayed in her seat bumping knees and shoulders with Zach as they bounced along.

“Have you ever been to the mall?” Zach leaned in close so only she could hear.

“
Nay.
” She had never been to the mall. She had barely been out of Wells Landing. And up until just a couple of months ago, she had never thought to. Now she enjoyed the measure of freedom more than she cared to admit.

The bus driver let them out at the large glass doors. Stan had a scooter to help him get along while the others chose to walk.

“War injury, you know.” He climbed aboard the motorized cart as Linda rolled her eyes.

The sheer size of the mall took Lorie's breath away. Nothing on the outside prepared her for the two-story building.

“What do you think?” Zach asked.

“I think it's beautiful.” She resisted the urge to spin around in a circle to take it in from all angles.

He smiled as if she'd just handed him a present. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her farther into the building. “Let's see what we can get into.”

The seniors had their own list of things they wanted to look at.

“Will she be okay?” Lorie asked, watching her grandmother walk away with the others. It was strange to Lorie that she had only known Betty for a short while yet she felt so responsible for her. Maybe because she reminded Lorie so much of Daniel.

“Stan won't let anything happen to her.”

“Okay.” Reluctantly she turned around and allowed Zach to steer her through the walkways. Music blared from inside the bright and colorful shops. Some had mannequins wearing tiny
Englisch
swim clothes while others promoted what they called “back to school clothes.” And there was a shoe store.

Lorie had to still her feet to keep from moving closer and closer to the store windows. She wanted to press her nose to the glass and take in all the wonderful shoes. Cowboy boots and boots that looked like they were made out of raincoats sat side by side with cute beaded sandals and brightly colored sneakers. There were even some that looked like they were built for torture with impossibly high heels and pointed toes.

“I think he likes her.”

“What?” She peeled her attention away from the colorful array of shoes and back to Zach.

“Stan,” he explained. “I think Stan is sweet on Betty.”

“
Jah?
How do you know?”

“He always sits by her at meals and craft time. And today, did you see the way he managed to ride next to her on the shuttle bus?”

Exactly the way he had done with her. Did that mean that Zach was sweet on her?

“Do you like them?”

Did he mean—? “The shoes?
Jah.
Well, most of them.” “Which are your favorites?”

“I like the boots. The brown ones.”

He smiled. “Me too. Wanna try them on?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. Thanks.”

He seemed about to protest, then he gave a small bow and hooked an arm through hers. “As you wish.” He grinned, apparently very pleased with himself. Then his expression fell a bit. “It's from a movie.”

“Oh.”

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“I don't know.”

“Is it against the rules for you to try on clothes and shoes and such?”

She shook her head. “Not really, but . . .”

“But what?”

“It's complicated.” How could she explain that “against the rules” was a bit too strong? But it would be frowned upon. And then there was the part of her that loved to wear the
Englisch
clothes, loved to spend time with Zach. That part of her made it necessary to refrain from dabbling too much in the
Englisch
world, lest she not want to leave it at all.

“I get it. I won't press, but promise me this. If you see something you'd like to try on or something you want to do, you'll tell me. Okay?”

“Deal.”

They started through the mall arm in arm, looking through the windows of the many shops and watching the array of people as they walked by.

“There you two are.” The sound of whirring motors met them before they turned and found Stan on his scooter with Betty on a matching one, riding by his side.

“Where did you get that?” Zach asked. The corners of his mouth twitched as if he was suppressing a smile.

“Customer service desk.” Stan patted the front of Betty's scooter. “She's a beauty, yeah?”

“She sure is.”

Lorie wasn't sure how to respond so she merely nodded.

“Where are y'all headed?” Zach asked.

“To the salon. I want to get a haircut. Wanna come along?”

Zach ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I guess I could use a trim.” He turned toward Lorie. “Is that okay with you?”

“Sure.”

So together the four of them made their way through the department store and down to the salon. It smelled in there, like the stink bomb Jonah and his brothers had set off in the schoolhouse when they were younger. She smiled at the memory even as she wondered if some young boy as troublesome as Jonah had set off a bomb inside the hair salon.

A girl dressed all in black stood behind the counter. Lorie almost asked if she was in mourning, but then she noticed all the ladies cutting hair were dressed in black.

The pictures on the walls were gigantic and featured people with crazy hairstyles in a rainbow of colors. She really needed to get out more. She had never seen anything like this in tiny Wells Landing. Not that she wanted blue or purple hair, but it was interesting to know that other people did.

“What about you, hun?” The girl behind the counter popped her gum and waited for Lorie to answer. Her large, round earrings swung from side to side with the motion of her gum chewing.

“Me?”

“You want me to put you down for a haircut? I've still got one stylist open.”

Lorie started to shake her head, then she remembered the girl from the gas station. She had envied Lorie's long hair, but Lorie had loved the look of the blunt cut the girl had. “Can you cut it straight across?”

“Hun, we can do anything.”

Lorie glanced toward the picture of the man with one stripe of purple hair smack down the middle of his head.
Jah,
she supposed they could. “Then I would like a haircut.” As she said the words her heart started to pound.

“I'll wait here,” Betty said, settling herself down in one of the chairs in the waiting area while the girl escorted them back and introduced them to the people who would be cutting their hair.

Zach caught the woman before she could leave. “The lady out there. She's a wonderful lady, but she gets sort of confused. Will you keep an eye on her? We can't have her wandering off.”

“Sure thing, hun.”

With Betty taken care of, the stylists led Stan and Zach away. Lorie started after them, but the man who was supposed to cut her hair grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Women this way.” He smiled.

Lorie cast one last look to where Zach and Stan walked away, then allowed him to lead her in the opposite direction.

He sat her in one of the many chairs that lined the room. Most were facing a long, long mirror, though some were turned in the opposite direction. “What are we going to do today?” the man asked. Brad, she thought the woman had said his name was. Brad shook out a length of slick black material and wrapped it around her so that the only thing showing was her head.

“I want it cut straight across the bottom. Can you do that?”

“Of course.” As he spoke he pulled the pins from her hair, rubbing his fingers against her scalp.

She had never had another person touch her head that way and the sensation, though pleasing, was a bit unnerving as well.

“Oh, my,” Brad breathed. “Honey, have you ever had a haircut?”

“No.”

“It's almost touching the floor.”

Lorie grabbed ahold of the arms of the chair as he somehow pumped her seat into a higher position.

“Is that a problem?” she asked.

“Not anymore.” He spun her to face away from the mirror. Lorie held on for her life. These chairs were the craziest thing she had ever seen.

Then Brad lifted the counter behind her and exposed a shiny black sink. She watched him in the opposite mirror as he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. Then he gathered her hair and trailed it into the sink.

“Now lean back.”

Like she had much of a choice. His magic chair tipped backward, and she had no choice but to do the same.

The warm water washed over her scalp. The sensation wasn't at all unpleasant, but it was unexpected.

“Loosen up,” Brad said from above her. “This is supposed to be fun.”

Loosen up.

Lorie closed her eyes and tried to relax.

Brad continued to wet her hair as he massaged her scalp and helped relieve some of her tension. Then the smell of the stink bomb was replaced with the sweet scent of apples. He washed her hair, put some sort of conditioner in it that smelled exactly like the shampoo. He wrapped it in a towel and spun her around to face the mirror again.

“And you just want the ends cut off?” He gently toweled her hair dry and started to comb through the thick mass. “No long layers?” His eyes met hers in the mirror.

She shook her head. She wasn't exactly sure what long layers were but she was pretty sure she didn't want them. She wanted the straight, even cut at the bottom of her hair just like the girl at the gas station.

“You can cut a little more off of it.” Her mouth went dry as she said the words. But it wasn't like anyone would know. She wore her hair up every day. As long as she didn't cut bangs or any short pieces, who would know but her? The idea was strangely thrilling.

“How short?” He pulled the long strands over her shoulders. Using his comb, he measured how short she wanted to go.

Normally she could sit on her hair when it was unbound. But the idea of having it shorter was strangely appealing. Yet it would have to be long enough to make her normal knot under her prayer
kapp
or her family might start to get suspicious.

“Longer,” she said as Brad used the comb to show her where he'd cut. He moved the comb again. “Longer.”

He moved the comb down three more times before she was satisfied that she would have a different look without anyone in Wells Landing being any the wiser.

“You know if you cut at least a foot off of it, you can donate the hair to Locks of Love.”

“What's that?”

Brad explained how the organization took real hair donated by people to make wigs for cancer patients who had lost theirs during treatment.

“That would put your hair right about here.”

“
Jah.
Okay.” She sucked in a gulp of air and squeezed her eyes shut tight. “I want to do that.”

Zach flipped through the wrinkled magazine in the salon's waiting area. He had tipped the receptionist ten dollars for watching after Betty. Now she and Stan had headed to the coffee shop for a snack while he waited for Lorie. He wasn't sure how much longer she would be, but he was starting to get antsy. He tossed that magazine back onto the low table and reached for another.

“Well, what do you think?”

He turned toward the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“Lorie? Wow.” He stood, never once taking his gaze from her. The magazine hit the floor with a
plop
. He bent to retrieve it, then straightened to stare at her once again. “I had no idea your hair was that long.”

It had to reach all the way to the middle of her back if not a little below that. Parted in the middle, the pale blond tresses framed her face like silk curtains.

“You like it?”

“I love it.” And that was the truth.

She smiled at the compliment while he scrambled to keep his wits. He had promised to be her friend, nothing more. And that was all they could be, just friends. But he had to admit that she had never looked better.

They paid for their cuts then left the salon for the main mall.

“What now?” he asked. Getting a haircut was a completely spur-of-the-moment idea. He had come today for the seniors, but it seemed like this would end up being a great trip for Lorie as well.

“Could we maybe . . . go back into that store and try on those shoes?”

“We can do anything you want.” He checked his watch. “We have another hour and a half before the shuttle leaves.”

She smiled and a little piece of Zach's heart became hers.

For the next hour, Zach watched as Lorie tried on shoes, jeans, and skirts. He smiled as she came out of the dressing room wearing a flouncy little flowered dress and the boots she'd bought at the shoe store.

“Does this look okay?” Her hair swung behind her, a spun gold mass of silk. She looked better than okay. She looked amazing.

But he had promised to be her friend. Nothing more. And a friend he would be. “Sure. Yeah. That looks really good.”

“Like a real
Englisch
girl?”

He swallowed hard, but managed to keep his voice even. “As real as it gets.”

 

 

Lorie floated along for the rest of the day. She couldn't believe what a great time she had just walking around the mall with Zach, Stan, and Betty.

Once they were back on the shuttle bus, all the seniors complimented her haircut. They told her how pretty she looked. She knew she was blushing, but she appreciated their kind words more than they would ever know.

And she wasn't about to feel guilty about the money she had spent. She'd never in her life spent so much in one afternoon, but the money had been the cash her father had in his wallet. She only spent about half, and she vowed to use the rest to buy surprises for the younger children.

“Thanks for the great time today.”

Zach pulled just to the other side of the phone shanty. They had stopped on the way home and she had changed back into her Amish clothes. Thankfully, she had remembered to put her prayer
kapp
in a safe place this time. It now covered her recently cut and shampooed hair, though even the changes there were too subtle to be noticed. All in all there was no evidence of her day of visiting with her grandmother and otherwise acting like an
Englisch
girl. Further proof of the harmlessness of what she was doing.

She and Zach had talked it out and had agreed to be friends. They both knew enough to understand that things between them couldn't be any more than that. Her grandmother wouldn't expect anything from her except the occasional visit. It wasn't like Lorie was leaving the faith, she reminded herself. So what was the harm in spending a little time with her friends?

“I had a good time too.” He smiled, but she noticed he leaned against the car door as if he needed to be as far away from her as possible. “I'm glad you came today.”

“What about next week?” she asked, hoping she wasn't being too forward. Now that she better understood her relationship with Zach, both of them should be able to enjoy each other's company.

“Next week?” he asked.

“I thought maybe . . . I mean, I know gas costs money. I could give you some money for gas. That is, if you'll come get me again and take me to Sundale.” She wound to a stop, then shook her head. “I'm sorry. I'm expecting too much. I'll hire a driver.”

She couldn't hire a driver, and she knew it. But if what she was doing wasn't wrong, then why couldn't she hire someone to take her to Tulsa?
Why are you having to hide?
that little voice asked.

Because right or wrong
Mamm
would never understand.

Lorie reached for the door handle to let herself out of his car. It was time she got home.

He laid a hand on her arm to stop her flight. “It's not that. It's not the money or . . . or anything. I was just surprised. I didn't expect you to want to come back so soon.”

“I had fun.”

“Your family will be okay with this?”

Not really, but she had just found her grandmother and she still had a lot of questions that she wanted answered.

Like you asked questions of Betty today
.

She pushed down that little voice once again.

“It'll be fine.” It wasn't like anyone would find out.

“All right then. Same time, same place?”

“If you don't mind coming to get me.”

He smiled then, that grin that would melt all the ice from the restaurant's ice machine. “Not at all. What are friends for?”

 

 

Her Amish clothes felt confining and stiff as she made her way back to the house. This was her life, and she needed to remember that. Not the sassy little boots and flowing dress she'd bought today.

She'd tucked her new purchases along with her old clothes into the canvas bag and left them in the shanty. She secreted them under the bench seat. Even if someone came along, they wouldn't be able to see her hidden treasures unless they knew where to look for them. If she bought any more, she would have to get a bigger bag. But that wasn't something she was going to do. Today was a special day. One that couldn't be repeated again.

She let herself into the house as Daniel came flying out of the kitchen. A smear of chocolate painted one cheek. Her oldest sister followed close behind, her cooking apron dusted with flour. He and Sadie must have been making cookies.

“Lorie, Lorie, Lorie!” he cried, stopping just short of crashing into her. “I missed you today.”

She scooped him into her arms, loving the warm weight of him as he hugged her close. “I missed you, too, Daniel. What did you do today?”

She set him back on his feet, smiling as he recounted his day of coloring, alphabet tracing, and number flashcards.

“What did you do?” he asked in return.

She hated lying to him, but she had no choice. It wasn't like she could tell him the truth.

“I went to visit some friends.” That wasn't so much of a lie.

“How is Caroline?” Sadie asked.

Lorie's stomach fell at her tone.
She knows.
Ridiculous. “
Gut.
She's really
gut.
”

“That's great, because she looked very happy when I saw her in the market today.”

Lorie straightened and met her sister's gaze. She couldn't tell if Sadie was mad or concerned. One thing was certain though. She had figured out where Lorie had been. “Daniel, why don't you go on up to your room now?”

“But the cookies.”

“I'll call you when they're done. You can have some then.”

“With a big glass of milk?” He looked at each of his sisters in turn.

“Of course,” Lorie said.

“
Jah,
okay.” He dragged his feet as he headed for the stairs. He might not learn as fast as other children, but he could sense emotions like no other. And the emotions flying around the room were thick as their
dat'
s leftover chili.

Sadie waited until Daniel was completely out of sight before she spoke. “I thought you weren't going back.”

“I wasn't.”

“But you did.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Then tell me.” She crossed her arms waiting for an answer.

“He was our
dat.
And she's our
grossmammi.
” Sadie may not have been Henry Kauffman's child by birth, but she was his daughter in every way that mattered.

“I cannot believe you.”

Something rose up inside of Lorie. “I can't believe
you.
You should feel like I do.”

“And how is that?”

“Like you've been cheated out of something.” Until she said the words, she hadn't understood her own feelings. “Something big. Something important.”

“And this has nothing to do with the boy.”

Her heart gave a hard pound. “No,” she scoffed. “Not at all.” The lie almost choked her. Why was that one harder than the rest?

Sadie wilted with relief. “I know this has been hard on you.”

Lorie nodded. “No harder than it's been on you and everyone else in the family.”

“Everybody handles death differently. Who is to say if one way is better than the other?”

“
Danki,
Sadie.”

Her sister pulled her close and wrapped her in a hug. Lorie realized then how few times her family touched one another. Oh, Daniel was different. He hugged everyone and in turn everyone hugged him back. But the Kauffmans tended to keep an arm's length between them at all times. But not her father. He had been a hugger, and she missed that something terrible. Everyone at the living center was a hugger, and she loved those touches.

She held her sister close, absorbing the warmth and love that Sadie represented.

“I'm just worried about you,” Sadie finally said.

“I know.”

Sadie pulled back, her hands braced on Lorie's shoulders. “Promise me you won't go again.”

With baptism classes and everything else Lorie had at stake, it was the smartest decision. But what harm was there in going to visit
Englisch
friends? Yet she didn't want to lie to Sadie. Not again. “Sadie, I—”

“Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said, hating the lie all the more for the relief it brought her sister.

 

 

“You seem unusually happy tonight.” His mother took a bite of the casserole she'd made and waited for his answer.

What did she want him to say? That even though they could be nothing more than friends, he was still giddy over the prospect of any sort of relationship with Lorie Kauffman. Or was it Mathis? Did it matter?

Giddy.
Oh, if my friends could see me now.

“I just had a good day.”

“I heard you went to the mall with some of the residents today.”

“I did.”

“And a certain granddaughter.”

So that's what this was about. “Yes.” He set down his fork and waited for her to continue. “Go ahead. Spill whatever it is.”

His mother shook her head, the light catching the strands of silver nestled in the brown. When had his mother started turning gray? And why hadn't he noticed? “It's just . . . well, she's Amish.”

“I'm aware.”

“But you don't get it. She's Amish.” She said the last word until it sounded more like a disease than a religious belief. “You don't know enough about them. She won't leave the faith. And you seem to like her so much. I don't want you to get hurt.”

He shook his head. “It's not like that.”

His mother shot him that look, the one she saved for instances like this where he was only kidding himself.

“Okay, so maybe it is,” he conceded. “But I know she has plans that don't include me. We've talked about it and agreed to just be friends.”

That was supposed to wipe the look off her face, but it didn't. “Some of the best and worst relationships in the world started out as just friends. Just look at me and your dad.”

Zach shook his head. “I don't want to talk about him.” Too many bad memories. And Lorie thought her dad had kept secrets.

“I know.” She stood and gathered her plate to take to the kitchen even though she was only half finished with dinner. “I'm headed back to the living center.”

“Working a double today?” He hadn't heard her mention anything about that.

“Yeah. Then I start second shift tomorrow night.”

“Okay then, I'll see you when you get home.”

She started for the kitchen, then stopped halfway to the door and turned back to him. “Your father . . . I know he did some bad things, but he loved you. Please don't ever forget that.”

He wanted to believe her. He really did. But when his mom had to work double shifts and swing shifts and way too much in order to make ends meet, Zach had to ask, if he loved them so much, why did he lie?