Lorie's Heart (19 page)

Figure out what an Amish girl did in the
Englisch
world. “Okay.”

“I'm just a phone call away if you need me. Just use Ashtyn's phone and call, okay? No matter what time it is.”

“I'm fine.” If only she believed it. She squared her shoulders and pasted on a brave expression. She might not be fine now, but she would be. She wasn't the only Amish girl to leave. Somehow she would figure out everything. “So I'll see you tomorrow?”

“I promise.”

She smiled, and Zach squeezed her hands one last time. Then he turned on his heel and left her standing in the middle of a room filled with dinosaurs.

There were all colors of the beasts painted on the pale blue walls. Red, dark blue, and green. A dinosaur lamp sat next to a bed with a dinosaur coverlet. Even the sheets were covered with the beasts.

She sighed, already missing the room she shared with Sadie. Oh, her sister. What must she be thinking? The image of Sadie crumpled on the top step, her shoulders shaking, would be forever etched in Lorie's mind. She hadn't wanted to hurt her sister. She hadn't wanted to hurt anyone in her family. As much as she loved her father this was all his fault, but she was too drained to even get angry about it. All she felt was weary, like she had used up all the emotions she had in one day.

She moved to the door and started to close it, but not before she heard Ashtyn say, “When I told you to bring her by to meet me, this was not what I had in mind.”

Lorie shut the door and made her way to the tiny little bed, doing her best to keep the fresh tears from falling.

 

 

“I know what I'm doing,” Zach said for the umpteenth time. “And bringing her here wasn't even my idea.”

“Sure, Mom called, but you had a hand in this.”

“Oh, I suppose you would have handled this differently.”

Ashtyn collapsed into the sofa and stared at him with eyes just like their mother's, soft, green, and knowing. Sometimes when he was with the both of them at the same time he felt like a stranger in a familiar land. “I don't know,” she finally said. “Is she going to be able to survive out here? You know, without her people?”

“I don't even know if she wants to stay here.”

She gave him a wise stare. “But you want her to.”

“She's amazing.” No sense in denying the truth. He could never hide anything from Ashtyn the same as his mom. “Beautiful, sweet, caring.”

“You love her.”

He scoffed. “I've barely even held her hand.”

“You think that's what it takes to figure out if you love someone?” She shook her head. “Like I can tell you about love. Two failed marriages.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself.”

“Just be careful.”

“Now you're starting to sound like Mom.”

“If we're both saying the same thing, maybe it's advice you should listen to.”

He nodded. But when he thought about the girl sleeping in his nephew's room, he wondered if it wasn't already too late.

For the second time in two days, Lorie woke up in a strange room. It took a few minutes of taking in her surroundings before she realized where she was and what had happened the day before. She had left her home in Wells Landing, left the Amish to come to Tulsa, to stay with Zach's sister in this room filled with dinosaurs.

She sighed and threw back the covers, stretched and yawned, then pulled them back into place.

No sense in lollygagging around. Putting off the inevitable was not going to change a thing. She pulled on her jeans and a T-shirt, ran her fingers through her hair, then stepped out into the hall.

Following the smell of fresh coffee, she made her way to the kitchen. Ashtyn was there, wearing a T-shirt, pajama pants, and a faded pink robe. Her dark hair was pulled into a messy ponytail near the top of her head. She turned as Lorie came into the room. “Coffee will be ready in a minute. Zach has already called. He'll be here soon.”

“This early?”

“It's already eight.”

Eight o'clock? She had never slept so late in her life. If she were home, she would have already fixed breakfast for the family, put Daniel on the school bus, and sent Cora Ann out to gather eggs. Or down to Bacon Dan's if the hens weren't laying.

But she wasn't at home.

Ashtyn raised the coffee urn in question.

Lorie nodded and sat at the table while Zach's sister poured them a cup and slid in across from her.

“I've only got about fifteen minutes, then I gotta scoot.”

“You have to go to work?”

“I drew first shift for this week.”

“Oh?” She tried her best to appear interested and knowledgeable, but Ashtyn saw through her in a second.

“I'm a trauma nurse,” she explained. Then shot Lorie a smile. “That means I work in the emergency room helping people.”

“Like your mother.”

She cupped her hands around her mug and gave Lorie a small smile. “Sort of. Yeah.”

“What about your
dat?
Zach started to tell me something about him the other day, but then he sort of shut down.”

“If you want to know something about our father, then you're going to have to ask him. Sorry. You're close enough. When he wants you to know, he'll tell you.”

“There's nothing going on between the two of us.”

“Funny, but that's exactly what he says too.”

Lorie frowned. “Why is that funny?”

“Funny strange,” Ashtyn said, taking a small sip of her coffee. “Not funny, ha ha.”

“Why is that strange?” she persisted. If she was going to survive in this world, she would have to figure out what these people were talking about.

Ashtyn shrugged. “Seems to me that the two of you spend an awful lot of time making sure everybody knows that there's nothing going on.”

“But there's not.”

“Protesting only makes everyone see that there could be. Or maybe that y'all want there to be.”

She wanted to protest, but she was struck dumb by the thought. Something more between her and Zach. The thought sent a little shiver down her spine. But she shoved away the thrill and concentrated on reality.

Ashtyn stood and took her coffee mug to the sink. “I'm going to get ready. Zach should be here any minute.” Just then the doorbell rang. “That'll be him now. Can you let him in?”

Lorie nodded, and Ashtyn made her way down the hall.

Zach looked even better first thing in the morning. His hair was still damp and nearly black. And he smelled good, like a mixture of shampoo, toothpaste, and fabric softener.

“Hi.” He flashed her a grin as he stepped into the house.

“Hi,” she said as she stepped aside and returned his smile.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and just stood there, looking at her. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes. You?”

“I wasn't in a strange bed in a strange house.”

“Surrounded by dinosaurs,” she added.

He chuckled. “Not that either.”

“Dinosaurs aside, I heard what Ashtyn said last night.”

“About?”

He was stalling. “Are you really going to make me say it?” she asked. “She doesn't want me here.”

His mouth pulled down at the corners. “I'll talk to her.”

“Please, don't. I don't want to be a burden.”

“I don't want you to feel like you're a burden.”

“She didn't make me feel anything but welcome. But I know that my being here is causing her . . . distress.”

He shook his head. “Ashtyn is very protective of her privacy since the divorce. She never said as much, but I think her last husband was controlling. She doesn't like to answer to anyone.”

Last husband? How many had there been? “This is her house. She deserves to have it the way she wants it to be.”

Zach wrapped his hands around her upper arms and rubbed his thumbs against the tender skin on the underside. “Owen—that's her son—won't be home for another ten days. You are welcome to stay here until then.”

“What happens after that?”

“We can figure that out when the time comes.”

She hated the uncertainty. It was bad enough that she had no idea what tomorrow would bring. She had left everything she had ever known and loved behind. She had no money except for the little bit she had found in her
dat'
s wallet. She had no idea how long that would last. Or how she would get more. How she would survive. How she would make it there in the
Englisch
world.

She shook her head. “I should have never come here. This was a mistake.” She needed to get out of there. Leave. Go back to where she belonged before too much damage had been done.

“Hold on,” he said, his grip tightening just enough to hold her in place. He took a deep breath. “I won't keep you here if you really want to leave. But I thought you wanted to find out more about your father.”

“My mother's family,” she whispered.

“Your mother?” His eyebrows shot nearly into his hair. “You've never mentioned your mother before.”

“I guess she's kind of like your father.”

Zach's shoulders slumped just a bit, before he recovered. “I think we need to sit down and talk before this goes any further.”

They settled around the kitchen table as Ashtyn came out of the back in those pajama-looking outfits that Lorie knew medical people preferred. “I'm out,” she told them, walking through the kitchen and grabbing her purse from a table by the back door. “Lock up when you leave, 'kay?”

“Sure. Have fun at work.”

She shot him a sideways look that was both cross and strangely humorous all at the same time. “Yes, because my job is so full of laughs. See you tonight, Lorie.” She rattled her keys and let herself out the back way.

“See? I told you she didn't mind your being here,” Zach said.

“Okay,” Lorie replied, but she wasn't sure. She didn't have anywhere else to go. She would stay right where she was. For now.

“What time do you have to go to work today?” she asked. “You do have to work, right? It is Monday.”

He shook his head. “I took the day off. Job interview.” He made a face that let her know he wasn't looking forward to it.

“Why are you looking for another job? Don't you like working at the living center?”

“Well, yeah.” He stood and pointed to the coffeepot. “Is that fresh?”

“She made it this morning.”

He poured himself a cup and returned to the table. “I just need more, you know?”

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “That's not something I understand.”

“But you want more for your life.”

“I s'pose.”

“I do too.”

“But you're so good with the seniors, and they seem to love you so.”

“That's true, but I want to buy a house, get married someday. I can't do that on what I make there.”

“Of course you can. Look at the Amish. We raise our children on farms with barely any income.”

“I wish it was that simple.”

“It is.”

He shook his head. “Not out here.”

“It should be. Maybe then more people would be happy.”

He smiled. “You might just be right about that.”

She grinned in return. “I know I am.”

 

 

Zach wished he had Lorie's confidence as he walked out of the downtown office building three hours later. He had taken Lorie to the living center to visit with the seniors while he went to the interview. But the “we'll be in touch” left him wishing she was waiting in the car to tell him that everything was going to be fine.

He let himself into the Ghia. What were they going to do for the rest of the day? Make clay ashtrays? He snorted, started the engine, and headed back across town.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled in front of the living center and parked the Ghia in the employee parking spaces. Just a few more minutes and he would see Lorie again. It shouldn't have, but his heart pounded a little harder at the thought.

He found her in the rec room with the seniors. Not just table eight, but all of them who had craft time before lunch. Some were standing, others sitting, but all had some sort of easel in front of them with large paper propped up for them to paint. Some were using brushes, but others had rags and sponges, while still others were using nothing but their hands. All of them, even Stan and Eugene, had smiles on their faces.

He looked around for Betty. Instead of knitting, which was her preference to the usual craft of the day, she had what looked to be the cut end of a bottom of romaine lettuce. She dipped it into the paint and pressed it to the paper creating a geometric rose print.

She squealed. “Look, Leslie! I did it.”

Lorie smiled, but didn't correct her grandmother. Betty might not always get their names right, but she remembered them and that was something.

Then Lorie caught sight of him and smiled. “How'd it go?”

He shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. He moved farther into the room, closer to her. “What are y'all doing?”

Her entire face lit up like nothing he had ever seen. “Painting.”

“I can see that.” He had almost forgotten about the paintings that he'd stashed in the trunk when they left Wells Landing yesterday afternoon. He wished now that he'd gotten a closer look. If she could have the seniors painting such a variety of types of works, he wanted a closer look at her own paintings.

“Well, when we first started working on crafts everyone seemed . . . disinterested. So I asked Carol and Amber if we could paint.”

The joy on her face was infectious. It spread around her like a beautiful fog, weaving in and out of the people in the room and touching everyone along the way.

“Everyone seems to be having a really great time.”

Her grin widened as her gaze wandered around the room. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“I've had a good time too.” She turned her attention back to the seniors. “Okay, everyone. It's almost time for lunch. Time to finish up.”

Several groans went up around the room.

“Maybe we can paint again tomorrow,” Zach suggested.

“Can we finish our paintings then?” someone asked.

“Yeah, I wanted to hang mine in my room.”

“I was going to give mine to my granddaughter.”

“If you don't finish them tomorrow, then I'll make sure you get a chance later in the week,” Zach said.

A round of agreement went up around the room. The seniors started cleaning up their painting supplies, while Lorie gathered her own.

“Have you been painting long?” Zach asked.

She stopped putting the lids on her paints. “I guess.” She seemed to think about it. “I can't remember a time when I didn't want to paint.”

“How did you know that?”

“There are these pictures in my head, but the Amish frown on art and paintings.”

He looked at the paper in front of her. It appeared to be mostly done, an Amish boy wearing glasses. The child was turned to the side, his hat shading part of his face. But somehow she had captured the energy that simmered just beneath the surface. His blue shirt and suspenders were typically Amish, but the painting was anything but average.

“My brother,” she explained.

“It's beautiful.”

She tilted her head and studied the work as if she had never seen it before. “You really think so?”

“You can't see the talent you have?”

“It's not like it really looks like him. Like a photograph, I mean.”

“Not all paintings have to look exactly like the real thing. Have you never seen a Picasso or a Van Gogh?”

She frowned.

“I guess not. But trust me on this one. These paintings are really, really good. And even more than that, the seniors look like they enjoyed their craft time more than ever before.”

“It was fun for me, too.”

“Thanks for that, missy,” one senior said on the way out the door. “Best craft hour we've had in three years.” He smiled, then hobbled out of the room.

Zack leaned in close, smelling apple shampoo and the moisturizer that his sister preferred. “Just so you know, he's only been here three years.”

She laughed, the sound near musical.

“Are you two coming?” Stan thunked his cane against the floor as if that would help them make up their minds and get a move on.