Plain Jayne (32 page)

“I told my mom I'd visit her next weekend,” I answered, already feeling the tension of a long-distance relationship.

“In Lincoln City?”

“Yes.”

“I'd love to meet your family.”

I frowned. “You're joking.”

“It's only fair. You've lived with mine.”

“But—”

“It's up to you. You can let me know later.”

“I'll think about it.”

“Thanks.”

“Have a good rest of your weekend.”

“Jayne,” he laughed and shook his head. “Relax!”

“I am relaxed!”

“That's why your shoulders are up to your ears. Just relax. We're having fun.”

We were. And that was the problem.

To my eternal shame, I ducked away from the shop and back to my car before something along the lines of a goodbye kiss could be discussed.

Instead, I think I reached out and squeezed his elbow, fast, or something ridiculous like that. Can't be certain what, the whole thing was a blur.

Pretty sad, really.

On the drive home, I felt a strong urge to call my mother. Strange, because I don't believe I've ever had the desire to call her just to talk.

But there I was, dialing her number on Highway 20 anyway.

As the phone rang, I worried she wouldn't answer. As far as I knew, she had all sorts of activities lined up on Saturdays. As the phone continued to ring, I debated telling her I'd gone to Albany at all. Back in Lincoln City, I'd told her I couldn't come this weekend because of work. Well, work certainly hadn't stopped me from driving seventy miles to see my new…boyfriend? Significant Male? Gentleman caller?

Before I could think better of the whole mother-calling action, I heard her voice. “Hello?”

“Hi,” I said, sounding much more breathless than I'd meant to. I sounded like a bad Marilyn Monroe impersonator.

“Jayne?”

“Yeah, Mom, it's me.”

“Oh. Good. How are you?”

“I, uh, I broke up with Shane.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Did it just happen?”

“No. Actually, it was on the way back from visiting you.”

“I hope—I hope it wasn't anything that happened here?”

“Not really. It was just time.”

“
Not really
sounds a lot like
partially yes
,” she said drily.

“It became clear that we were going in different directions.”

“You should run for political office.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She sighed. “I'm not surprised. About you and Shane, that is.”

“You're not?”

“You seemed like good friends, but there wasn't…chemistry. Not love chemistry, at any rate.”

“Well, I'm glad you're not disappointed.”

“He seemed like a nice man, but no.”

“I'm also…seeing…” I exhaled hard. “Someone else.”

“Oh? Was it that boy you met researching your Amish story?”

Wow. She was good. “Yeah. It's Levi.”

“How do you feel about him?”

“I…” was it possible to know how I felt? I'd hardly known him a few weeks. Had it only been a few weeks? Crazy. “I like him a lot.”

Which was code for, “I can't stop thinking about him.”

Being new to the whole mom-talk thing, I kept that to myself. I didn't need her picking out baby names.

Come to think of it, I didn't know if she was the picking-out-baby-names type.

“I'm very excited for you,” she said.

I licked my lips. “I know I said I'd visit next weekend.”

“If you can't, we understand.”

“What I'm asking is…can I bring him?”

“Of course!”

“Would that be too weird? What am I saying? Of course it would be too weird. That's two guys in two weeks.”

“It's up to you.”

Of course it was. “He wants to meet my family.”

“You lived with his, didn't you?”

Naturally, she'd have to throw that back too. “I did.”

“Bringing him or not bringing him is your decision. If he's fine sleeping in a room covered in quilt squares, then he's welcome to join you.”

I brightened at the mention of quilt squares. “They're still on the floor?”

“They are. Waiting for you.”

Such faithful quilt squares.

“I'll talk to Levi.” Who knew? By next week we might have thrown in the towel. “Either way, you'll definitely have at least one guest next weekend.” A stray thought stuck in my head. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Will Beth mock me if I bring over a different man?”

“She wants to see you happy. She really does.”

That so didn't answer my question.

Or maybe it did.

I called Gemma when I got home. “You go to church, don't you?”

“Every week. Why?”

“Can I come with you?”

“Of course. You really want to?”

“You know I grew up in the church, right?”

“Jayne, you…you don't talk about yourself very often.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to be that person anymore. And that means going back to church. So can I meet you there?”

“You can meet me or I can pick you up.”

“I need to be as independent about this as possible. I need to drive myself.”

“You're independent, so you're letting me help you choose a church?”

“It's a springboard. And no woman is an island.”

“Amen, sister.”

“Save it for church, Gem.”

“Touchy.”

“Nervous. It's been a crazy day.”

“Like how?”

I told her about my date with Levi.

“Really! Good thing you looked so nice. Are you guys an item now?”

“Working in that direction.”

“Are you terrified?”

I sighed. “Petrified.”

“It's good for you. Gosh, I can't remember the last time I felt that way about someone.”

“You've had a bit of a dry spell, haven't you.”

“Like the Sudan.”

“You know,” I said, “Levi has several employees. One of them is really into Star Trek. You guys might hit it off.”

“You're cruel. Besides, dealing with my family isn't for the faint of heart.”

“That's the flip side of growing up with so much great food.”

“Very true. So tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Heaven help us all.

I
took a nap Sunday afternoon. I'd forgotten how much I loved my post-church naps. When I was growing up, my entire family napped after church. No one emerged before four forty-five.

Church with Gemma went well enough. The pastor was highly educated and highly able to make me uncomfortable with the probing nature of his scripturally based remarks.

But I wasn't attending church to stay in my comfort zone, so I stayed in my seat.

It's funny to me how many churches in the last ten years have made the swap from pews to interlocking chairs. While the chairs make it harder to slide into your seat, they are more comfortable and better delineate personal bubbles.

Not that personal bubbles matter much with Gemma's family. Her Italian father wrapped me in a hug while her French mother air-kissed me on each cheek.

Really, it's amazing Gemma's as normal as she is.

Being surrounded by Gemma's family and multiple siblings made me feel for the briefest moment as though I were back with the Burkholders.

Which made me think of Levi. Thinking of Levi, until recently, had only made me feel guilty.

Now it made me happy. Unabashedly happy.

Even as I lay down for my nap, I couldn't stop smiling.

My first letter from Sara arrived Monday.

Jayne,

We miss you very much. I had a very nice time at your apartment, although I regret that we could not go to see your friend's closet. Maybe another time?

Leah and Elizabeth say hello. Things are well here. Father is mending, although he complains about eating fish and not being able to work the farm as much. Mainly the fish. Mother has begun cooking with less butter and fat for the sake of Father's heart. I think he would rather have another heart attack than give up fat, but I don't say anything. The boys are complaining about so much fish, but only when Mother is out of the room. They haven't complained about going fishing more often.

Levi said you'll be writing an article about us. You aren't going to write about me thinking about leaving, are you?

I hope that you will visit us sometime. Are you still cutting quilt squares? Have you tried to piece them yet? I'm sure if you called my grandmother, she'd be able to tell you what to do.

It would be nice if you wrote back.

Sara

I smiled and refolded the letter. After a long day of writing and editing written material, hearing from Sara made me miss the Burkholders' farmhouse.

Things were simpler there. Of course, things were more complicated now that I was seeing Levi. I didn't know how Martha would feel about me dating, him, but I could guess that in her heart of hearts, she would want him to return to the community. Dating an outsider would hinder that.

I felt I knew Levi well enough to know he had no intention of ever returning, so I couldn't feel guilty for holding him back. Furthermore, I met him before I met his family.

What would drive me over the edge would be Sara. How do you know when to give the girl-power speech or encourage her to live the life of her ancestors?

I knew I wouldn't want to live that life. Here I was trying my own version, and already scuff marks had resurfaced on the tile and my shower was turning pink where water pooled. But there was something about knowing that somewhere everything was perfect, orderly, clean. Peace and simplicity reigned in that place, even if it wasn't here.

Not that I wasn't trying. I mopped my floor the other day for the first time in eighteen months, and that wouldn't have happened if I didn't find the Swiffer commercials so convincing.

I found paper and an envelope in the study.

Dear Sara,

I miss you all terribly. Sorry about all the fish, but from what I hear it really is good for the heart. Don't worry. I didn't put anything about your thoughts of leaving into the article. Also, I changed everyone's names for your privacy.

I'm back at work and wishing I was still baking in your family's kitchen. However, I did help bake a pie at my mom's house and surprised everyone. I also started a quilt with my mother; we'll work on it again this weekend.

You told me about your dreams of designing clothes. That took a lot of trust. I don't know if Levi's mentioned it to you, but we've decided to try a relationship. I guess we're dating. I hope you're okay with that. Levi is a very, very special person. I don't know how serious we are—or not. We've agreed to see what happens. I just wanted you to know.

Give the children hugs for me. I miss all of you.

Jayne

P.S. Don't worry—I've been very careful with my clothes since you left. No missing buttons.