Until the End of Time (31 page)

“I had the best time of my life,” she said with dancing eyes.

“So did I,” he said, and meant it, still haunted by the brief déjà vu he’d had at the Plaza, which appeared to have nothing to do with her. He felt foolish about it, especially after admitting his fear of horses, and didn’t mention it again.

He promised to pick her up in the morning and walk her to the office the next day. He didn’t want her getting lost. He had promised to take care of her while she was in New York, and he had every intention of doing so. And he was enjoying every minute of it.

After he left, Lilli took off her English clothes and hung them up in the closet that was bigger than her room at home, put on her heavy flannel nightgown that she and Margarethe had made the year before, and lay down on the bed. The nightgown was comfortable
and faded. She lay there, thinking of her father and brothers at home, and even though she was having a wonderful time, she missed them. She had never been away from them before. And as she thought about it, the phone rang. Bob had shown her how to answer it, and she did with a tentative “hello.” It was Bob.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay and didn’t get attacked by any strange machines in the room.” She had told him about the hand shower going wild when she tried to run a bath before dinner.

“No, all the machines are behaving.” He loved the lilt in her voice. She always sounded excited and happy, particularly now. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. I’ll never forget it.”

“We’re not through yet,” he said, sounding wistful. He wanted it to go on forever, but they only had days, and then she’d turn back into a pumpkin, and so would he. He wanted to maximize every minute. “By the way, if you get hungry, you can call room service, order anything you want, and they’ll bring you food. Like an ice cream cone maybe,” he teased her, remembering the day they met.

“I couldn’t eat a thing,” she said, still overwhelmed.

“You can order breakfast in the morning.” She sighed as he said it.

“It’s going to be awfully hard to go home after this.
I’m
room service there.” She caught on quickly, and he laughed.

“See you in the morning, Lilli. Sleep tight.”

“Thank you, sweet dreams.” She turned off the lights after that, lying in the bed, and looking at the moonlight spilling across the room. And all she could think of was how perfect the evening had been, as she fell asleep.

Chapter 20

Bob showed up at the hotel at nine o’clock the next morning and knocked on the door of her room. She opened it wearing a plain Amish dress again and a clean apron. She was dressed for work. It was a striking transition after the night before.

They talked easily on the way to his office and stopped at Starbucks to pick up coffee. They bought Danish pastry since neither of them had had breakfast, and as soon as they arrived, Lillibet went back to work with Mary, editing the book. It was going well, and both of them were pleased. Mary told Bob later that she took direction perfectly. The three of them were working on Saturday when it was quiet in the office.

They had lunch together at a restaurant nearby, and went back to work on the book afterward for an hour. Mary was exhausted by then and said she had to go home, and as soon as she left, Bob told Lilli to get her coat. He took her to see the Statue of Liberty, and then they went to the museum at Ellis Island, which she found fascinating, although they couldn’t stay long. She pored over the exhibits
with intense concentration, and he saw tears in her eyes a few times. And when they got back to the hotel, they both admitted they were exhausted and had a burger downstairs at the bar. They talked about a thousand things, and he told her about his family.

“I’ve always been something of a misfit. They’re all very intellectual and very driven and career oriented. My career plans were a little ‘softer,’ and I’ve wanted to be in publishing all my life, unlike my doctor-lawyer-banker parents and brother. Even my sister-in-law is an attorney, although she never practiced. She became a professional homemaker instead, like Martha Stewart, and their kids are like robots. They’ve had every kind of dance, music, language, and computer lesson on the planet.” It was all foreign to Lillibet, in a community where children stopped going to school in eighth grade and their upbringing was more informal, and no one took tap dancing or Mandarin in school, although the boys loved to play baseball, and the girls learned to cook and sew. “I just thought life should be a little less uptight, and warmer. You shouldn’t have to try so hard,” he said, trying to explain it to her. But she seemed to understand.

“And I was the reverse. I always wanted more. I wanted to stay in school and try harder. My mother gave me so many books, it opened up whole new worlds, and I wanted to see more and do more than they expect of Amish women. My mother taught me that. She taught me to love what I read, and she encouraged me to try writing, although I never did until after she died. And then I felt like she was pushing me, or I owed it to her or something. But it doesn’t fit with our way of life. If I married, no man in our community would let me do it. And we can’t marry outside,” she said simply, and she didn’t
seem to mind. “Marriage seems so restrictive,” she added, looking pensive, “in our way of life anyway. You give up all the decisions, and the man decides everything. I couldn’t do that.” Although her father made the decisions for her now.

“You shouldn’t have to, if you marry the right person. It should be about teamwork.” Then he laughed. “What do I know? I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since college, and she dumped me for my best friend, and she was right. I was a jerk then. All I cared about were my lit classes and reading books, which were a lot more interesting than she was.” They talked about their taste in books then and found they had read many of the same things, and had had a lot of the same favorites when they were young, although in some cases, their interpretation was slightly different. And they sat discussing that for hours, and then he told her about starting his business and how challenging it had been. She envied him that, working with writers and discovering books.

“Like yours,” he said, teasing her, still amazed that he had found her in the slush pile. She realized now that she could easily have gotten her manuscript back with a form letter, and he would never have known. “Your apron caught my eye.”

“That’s why I sent it. I thought it might bring me luck.”

“It brought us both luck,” he said gently, and then he paid the check and walked her back to her room. The next day was Sunday, and Mary had begged for a day off. She needed to put her feet up and relax, and Bob felt guilty about pushing her so hard. They were playing beat the clock, before she had the twins.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Bob asked her, as they stood in the living room of her suite.

“Whatever you like, a walk in the park, a drive, nothing in particular.”

“We can decide tomorrow. Maybe you’d like to sleep late,” he offered, and Lillibet laughed.

“For me, six o’clock is a late morning. I get up and feed my father and Willy before they go to work.” She had a hard life, and he admired her for it, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was the restrictions she objected to now, the rules, not the demands or the work.

They agreed to meet at ten o’clock, and he found her in the lobby in blue jeans and a sweater and the blue coat. He took her to Café Cluny for a delicious breakfast and then they took a cab to Central Park, walked for hours, went to the model boat pond, and sat on a bench. They talked constantly, as though they had a lifetime to catch up on. They went to the Village again for dinner that night, and Bob checked in with Mary and was relieved to hear that she hadn’t had the twins yet. So they were going to work on the book again the next day. It had been nice having a day off together. They both looked relaxed and happy when he took her back to the hotel. And after he did, Bob walked to his apartment, thinking about her. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like when she left again. He loved having her nearby, and their endless conversations, confidences, and shared views of life. He felt as though he had been starving for her and hadn’t known it, but the clock was ticking and soon she would go home. And he could visit her in Pennsylvania, but he could never do more than that, and he knew it. She was completely comfortable and resigned to her Amish life, which was light-years from his own.

Lilli didn’t say anything to him, but by Monday she was seriously
missing her father and brothers. She had been gone for three days, and it felt strange not to talk to them and see them. She couldn’t call them, or tell them any of the things she’d done. She even missed Margarethe. And she looked wistful when they got back to work on Monday morning, and she noticed that Mary looked more tired. But they were making good progress with the book. They worked a full day and never left the office, and Bob came in and out of the room periodically to check on them. They were working well. Mary estimated they would finish with another day’s work.

Bob took Lilli to a baseball game that night, and Lilli loved it. They ate hot dogs and popcorn and pretzels and ice cream, and the Yankees won the game. She couldn’t wait to tell her brothers. They loved playing baseball at home with their friends. It was a game that was allowed. And every day she spent with Bob was better than the last one. He was a nice man, and a kind one, and he had made every effort for her to have a good time, and she was totally at ease with him. It seemed as though he had always been part of her life, and she felt safe with him. She said something about it when they went back to the hotel that night.

“I’ve never felt that way with anyone before,” she admitted, “like you’re my brother and my best friend, and I have fun with you and can tell you anything.”

“I feel the same way about you, Lilli. I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone.” He felt closer to her than ever.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” she said, thinking about it. “It’s like we’ve always been together, and we haven’t known each other that long. Maybe my mother introduced us, with the book.” She was only half-joking. She didn’t understand why she felt so close to him, but she
did. And she couldn’t imagine her life without him now either, but he was from a different world, and there was no room in hers for him. Her father might let him visit occasionally, if he ever forgave him for the book, but he could do no more than that. There was no place for English in their community. He had to be Amish or he didn’t fit. “I’m going to miss you when I go back,” she said sadly. And now she missed her family so much. With each passing day, she was a little bit more homesick, in a way she never thought she would be. But also with each passing day, she grew closer to Bob. She felt torn either way.

And he was respectful of her and never crossed any lines he shouldn’t. He was well aware by then that he was deeply in love with her. But she was young, and he didn’t want to confuse her with his feelings for her. Being Amish, and what it meant, was no small thing. And he would never take advantage of her. He didn’t even dare kiss her, although every time he said goodbye to her, he wanted to kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. But he knew that once they let the genie out of the bottle, nothing would ever be the same again. He preferred to remain silent and hide his feelings from her, but they were strong. And she was so innocent. She really was like a child, discovering a whole new world with him, but he knew she couldn’t stay, and so did she. And he wasn’t even sure she wanted to. She admitted to being homesick a few times. She had seen so many new things, and had so many new adventures with him. She never said that she didn’t want to go back to Pennsylvania. She had every intention of taking her place in her father’s home again.

She and Mary finished their editing on Tuesday night. Mary stayed late, and they both looked relieved when it was finished. Mary handed the edited manuscript to Bob, and she looked like she
could hardly move when they put her in a cab a little while later. She said she was going straight to bed. It was a beautiful night, and Lilli and Bob walked for a while, stopped to have something to eat at a deli, and then went to the living room of her suite and talked for a long time. Lilli felt good about the book and the work they had done. She had a sense of completion about it and said she was ready to start a new book when she went home. She had discussed her new story idea with Mary, and she liked it and thought Bob would too. Lillibet had real talent.

And after a while, Lilli and Bob fell silent, and he looked at her with eyes full of love. He didn’t want to tell her and spoil everything, but it was getting harder and harder not to.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked gently. She had the gaze of a woman in the face of a child and the elfin body of a wood sprite. He wanted to hold her in his arms, but he was afraid he would break her, and he didn’t dare. And he didn’t want to frighten her and ruin what they had. She was so unspoiled and innocent, and he cherished that about her.

“I don’t know, I feel funny things when we’re together sometimes,” he said with a sigh, “like I know you to your soul and I don’t know why. Maybe it doesn’t matter.”

“I feel that way too. Like our souls know each other, or our hearts. Maybe that’s what love is,” she said with a pensive look and undid her braid. They were both tired, and their guard was down, and it was late. “I’ve never been in love,” she said simply, and almost said “until now,” but she stopped herself. She didn’t know if she was in love with him or not, and she didn’t want to damage anything they shared or shock him.

He wanted to ask her if she was in love now, but he didn’t dare.
He was afraid to ask. They sat quietly together in silence on the couch for a time, and he gently stroked her long hair. It was well past her waist and still white blond at twenty-four.

He finally got up to leave her, before he did something he knew he’d regret or she would. She followed him to the door in her stocking feet. She was wearing blue jeans and a sweater, and she reached up gently and touched his face. “Thank you, Bob,” she said softly. “I care about you so much. I don’t know what that means, but I love being here with you.”