We ate in silence as Martha borrowed my phone for the call.
She listened carefully to the person on the other line, but her face lit up when Gideon came on.
I smiled as I watched. “He must be awake.”
“And upset that he’s still in a hospital bed,” Levi added.
Sara rolled her eyes. “He’s probably going crazy.”
Five minutes later, Martha held the phone out to me. “How do I hang up?”
I snapped the phone shut.
“Oh. That makes sense. I’d like to go to the hospital soon.”
“Is Dad okay?” Sara asked.
“He says he is, and the nurse agrees. But he wants to get out of bed, and I need to be there to stop him.”
Levi and Sara exchanged glances.
Levi looked to me. “Another time?”
Another time for…oh, right. Coffee. “Of course.” Probably for the best anyway.
Levi took Sara and Martha to the hospital while I stayed behind to “work.”
“Working” being code for figuring out what to do with my life.
I used to think that was what college was for.
Gemma was right. I either needed to make things better with Shane or at least move on. Staying with him because I liked him as arm candy wasn’t fair to him.
And as far as my family went…if my dream was any indication, the dissonance had gone on long enough. They either loved me or they didn’t. I either loved them or I didn’t. I had to choose one.
It struck me as ironic that, really, my situation surrounding my family and my boyfriend were so similar.
Basically, I needed to make up my mind.
I sighed, picked up my phone, and dialed Shane for the first time in a while.
“Jayne? Where are you? The connection is the clearest it’s been since you left.”
“I’m actually in my apartment.”
“Finally had enough?”
“Not really…” I gave him the short and sweet version of Gideon’s heart attack. “So Martha and Sara are staying with me while he’s at OHSU.”
I sort of edited out the fact that Levi was sleeping in my study.
“I miss you,” he said.
“I miss you,” I echoed back, although I wasn’t certain that I did. Maybe I did. I probably did. “Anyway, I called because I think I’m going to cut my time in Albany short and go to Lincoln City to see my family.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
“I was wondering…” I paused and then took a deep breath, “if you wanted to come with me.”
“Why?”
“I thought…I thought you might want to meet my family.”
“You want me to meet your family.”
“Yes.”
“You realize that would involve me talking to them.”
“Yes.”
“And you still want me to go?”
“Wait. Let me think about it…”
“Jayne!”
“Just kidding! Yes.”
“And this isn’t just because you’re going and you need a buffer.”
“No.”
“No, you don’t want me as a buffer?”
I couldn’t lie. “Well, it’s one of those side benefits. But not the only reason. At all.” I released the breath I’d been holding. “This next weekend?”
“That’s fine. I may need to bring some work with me.”
“Bring whatever you need, as long as yourself is included.”
“You’re doing okay?”
“I’m…” I thought about it. Was I okay? I was conflicted. And confused. And not looking forward to the Lincoln City trip. Did that make me not okay?
I straightened my spine. “I’m fine.”
I was alive and healthy. That made me okay enough.
I ran errands that afternoon, picking up a bag of Stumptown coffee for Levi as well as a coffeemaker, reasoning that at some point I might brew coffee at home.
It’s also possible that I went to Powell’s, because, well, I hadn’t been to Powell’s in more than a week and I was low on reading material.
The Martha who returned to the apartment seemed younger and, I don’t know, lighter than the one who left. Not that she weighed less, but that there was less weighing her down.
“He’s doing very well,” she reported, her cheeks glowing. “The doctor said that if he continues to do so well, he can leave in two days. Two days!”
“That’s good news!”
“I insist on making dinner,” she said, tugging at her apron. “After a day of sitting around at a hospital, I need to do something useful.”
I couldn’t stop her, not without feeling horribly guilty. “Knock yourself out.”
She frowned at me. “Knock myself…”
“Er…go ahead. The kitchen is yours with my blessing.”
“Is that a thread on your shirt?” Sara glued herself to my side and picked at the hem of my cowl-necked T-shirt.
“It is,” she said, before I could reply. “The hem’s coming out. This wasn’t sewn together very well. Would you like me to fix it?”
I figured if I let her fix it, she’d let go.
“Can you take it off?”
I had to physically restrain my eyes from darting to Levi for his reaction. Instead, I schooled my features and said, “Why don’t we go to my room? You can mend this shirt, and then you can look for other garments in need of your care. Does that sound like fun?”
She all but skipped down the short hallway. I followed.
In the short expanse of time that followed, Sara found six T-shirts, two blouses, and three pairs of pants in desperate need of her service. Then she looked at me. “Where’s your needle and thread?”
Seriously. “Sara, I don’t have a needle and thread.”
She rolled her eyes in such a way as to make me a believer that teenagerdom is a reality that crosses cultures. “You probably don’t have extra buttons either, do you.” It was a statement more than a question.
“I save the buttons that come with my clothes,” I said defensively, and it was true. I did save them. I didn’t know how to attach them if and when the need arose, but I had them just the same.
She pointed to the pile of clothes on my bed. “I can’t fix these without thread.”
I chose not to suggest dental floss, instead opting to bundle up and make a trip to Fred Meyer’s.
Freddy’s has everything.
“Need company?” Levi asked when I returned to the living room.
I shook my head. “Just a quick trip. I’ll be right back. Did you see the coffee?”
“Coffee?” The look in his eyes turned a bit desperate.
“I bought coffee for you. It’s on the counter.”
“You don’t have a coffeemaker.”
“The box next to the coffee that says ‘Mr. Coffee’ on it.”
I could hear his grin as the door closed behind me.
I found all sorts of things at Freddy’s. Scissors made especially for fabric. Who knew such a thing existed? My mother, probably.
There were needles of all lengths and thicknesses, and a little more thread than I felt comfortable around. But I struck gold with what they called an “Emergency Mending Kit,” which contained thread of assorted colors, needles, a miscellaneous button, a tiny measuring tape, tiny scissors, a tiny thimble, and two small safety pins.
I don’t know what kind of emergency might necessitate this sort of kit, but I was pretty sure it had everything Sara might have asked for.
When I got back to the apartment, dinner simmered on the stove and the scent of brewed coffee filled the air. Martha bustled around the kitchen, putting the last touches on her meal. Levi sat on the couch, a book in one hand and a mug in the other, while Sara breezed in and out of the living room, putting away items that had managed to drift out (mostly by me) since morning.
The sense of family took my breath away. Was this what coming home to people was like?
I pulled the emerge
ncy kit from the plastic Fred Meyer sack and waved it in the air. “Hope this works,” I told Sara, “otherwise we’ll have to improvise. Yank thread from my duvet, that sort of thing.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “What is that?”
“A kit.”
“What kind?”
“Emergency mending, and you’re the field medic.”
Her eyebrows pitched forward in an expression of complete confusion.
“She means you’re an emergency doctor,” Levi said, looking up from his book.
“Oh.”
He looked at me, his eyes twinkling.
Sara began to peel away the plastic covering. “This has everything I need,” she said. “I should have your clothes done right away.”
“But not until after dinner,” Martha called from the kitchen. “Sara, would you set the table?”
Sara dropped her eyes and moved back toward the kitchen as if driven by an invisible force.
When we sat down to dinner, I found myself struck again by the sense of family. I couldn’t remember the last time the idea of family was so appealing.
My mind wandered before I could stop myself. I wondered what Martha would be like as a mother-in-law. Shane’s mother was an interior designer (one of the reasons they’d never come to my place on a visit, since I had decorated the place in a postcollege eclectic style she probably wouldn’t approve of) and married to her career. I couldn’t see her preparing and serving dinner, unless it involved a caterer with excellent presentational skills.
I shook my head. Not that it mattered. I didn’t see myself getting married anytime soon—or at all—and certainly not to a carpenter from Albany.
Seriously.
Even if he was good looking, handy, and an all-around enjoyable person to be with. Didn’t matter.
The next few days flew by. Gideon continued to steadily improve, and the Burk-holders began to ready for departure. Levi and I never had a chance to go for coffee, which was fine with me. I was with Shane.
Sara and I never had a chance to paw through Gemma’s closet, which was also just as well. As far as I knew, Sara hadn’t yet made up her mind about her future with the Amish. Exposing her to Gemma’s closet would just be unfair to her. I didn’t know how the Amish could compete with a French and Italian wardrobe.
Levi never visited Gideon in the hospital. “I can’t run the risk of upsetting him, not when he’s like this,” Levi told me when I pushed the issue for the last time. “I don’t want to be responsible for killing him.”
“At least there are health care professionals around, unlike at the farm,” I reasoned halfheartedly.
Levi shrugged. “Another time.”
His plan was to leave before I drove Martha and Sara to the hospital to pick up Levi. “I want to thank you,” he said, his backpack slung over his shoulder.
I waved my hand. “It was nothing.”
“You let the Amish take over your home for five days.”
“They’re good people.”
“I noticed you have a lot of books.”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“I thought I could make you a bookcase. As a thank-you gift.”
I opened my mouth to protest but decided against it. “That would be nice.”
“I was thinking a tall one, with short shelves to fit a lot of books, but two taller shelves in the middle.”
“I could live with that.”
“Light wood? Dark?”
“You’re the carpenter.”
“You’re a special lady, Jayne.”
He left, then, and I found myself wishing that maybe things could be different.
Gideon slept through most of the trip back to the Burkholder farm, but for that matter so did Martha. Sara sketched out a quilt pattern on her notebook.
I played Sixpence None the Richer softly over the car stereo; I knew the Amish weren’t big music listeners—Sara had explained that recorded music was taboo—but I had to do something to avoid joining the communal nap.
The kids ran out into the driveway despite the downpour, and I understood how Levi felt about driving up to them. I managed to miss their toes but I did catch their hugs after I opened the door and stepped out.
I packed the rest of my things after Gideon was settled inside—my quilt squares, a pair of socks, and the dress Sara made me and insisted I keep.
Martha stepped inside the room just after I finished. She held a quilt in her arms.
“I would like to thank you for all of your help while Gideon was sick, Jayne. I—we—would like you to have this.”
She held the quilt out to me.
It was exquisite. The shades of blues worked together to create a subtle three-dimensional effect that took my breath away. Black and purple pieces ran along the edges.
I ran my finger over the stitches. “Martha, it’s beautiful.”
“Take it.”
I found myself hugging it close before pulling Martha into that hug. I didn’t want to leave. “Thank you for letting me stay and be a part of your family.”
Martha’s body, stiff at first, relaxed. Her hand patted my back. “You’re welcome.”
I said my goodbyes to Gideon, Amos, and Elam, and hugged each of the younger children.
“Do you really have to go?” Elizabeth asked as she held onto my knees.
“I do,” I said, stroking her braid one last time. “I need to be with my family before I go back to work.”
“Will you write letters?”
I looked up to see Martha’s encouraging nod. “If you want me to, I’ll write.”
Sara stood in the living room, her back straight as the ladder in the barn. “Take better care of your clothes,” she said. “You really should learn to sew.”
I gave her a knowing smile. “I’ll miss you too.”
Chapter 19
I thought about stopping by Levi’s shop on the way out of town, but I decided against it. Saying goodbye to the Burkholders had already made me more emotional than I wanted to admit.
Besides, a part of me needed a clean break from Levi. I needed to focus on Shane if that relationship wasn’t going to dissolve into Oprah-discussion material.
Clean break. Need space. Getting back to my life. I reminded myself of all the reasons why it was okay to go home to a quiet, empty apartment.
Quiet as it was, the walls still seemed to hold the memory of noise, people, and laughter. The sound of pots clanging echoed in the kitchen. Sara’s disbelief over my wardrobe still resonated in my bedroom.
And Levi…truth be told, he was everywhere. He was everywhere but I ignored it, unpacked my belongings from Amish-land and prepared for my trip to the Oregon Coast.
I couldn’t sleep that night. My nights on the couch had been hit-and-miss, considering the mix of exhaustion and the fact that I wasn’t used to sleeping on something with arms and a back, but this was different.
Every time I almost fell asleep, I heard something. A Harley roaring past. Skateboarder kids yelling. An emergency siren—no, two.
I hadn’t heard a siren while I was sleeping since I’d left to stay with the Burkholders, and I couldn’t believe how fast I’d accustomed myself to not hearing them. Now that I was hearing them, they annoyed me to no end. It was four in the morning! How much traffic could there be? Couldn’t they flash their lights and make that whoop whoop noise when necessary, instead of waking up every resident within a one-mile radius?
Unfortunately for Shane, I woke up the next morning groggy and irritated. When he arrived, my things weren’t packed, my hair was wet, and I had only just gotten dressed.
Who knew getting dressed could be so difficult? I’d spent more than a week without clothing options, and now pairing a shirt with jeans took mental calisthenics I’d never expected. Sara had made me twitchy about my clothes. I held up a shirt and wondered, What would Sara say?
It made the whole process rather time consuming.
“You’re not ready?” Shane said, deciding,
I supposed, that today was a good day to skate hard on thin ice.
I glared at him. “No, I’m not ready. And you’re early. Why are you early?”
“No traffic. Why are you so defensive?”
“I told you! You’re early and wonder why I’m not ready! Of course I’m not ready. If you’d been here on time, I might have been ready.”
“Sorry, no traffic. Are your bags packed?”
“No. But they might have been if you’d gotten here when you were supposed to.”
Shane checked his watch. “I’m ten minutes early. Would you have been packed and dried your hair in ten minutes?”
I crossed my arms. “Yes.”
He just looked at me.
“Maybe,” I amended. “At least I’m dressed.”
“Congratulations.” He sighed and took off his jacket. “Do you need help with anything?”
“No.”
“Did you, um…not sleep well?”
“No.”
“Ah. Take a deep breath. Go pack.”
I did. Or I tried. In the end, I shoved most of my closet into my suitcase, then pulled it all back out. “I need to go shopping.”
“What was that?” Shane called from the living room.
“I said I needed to go shopping.”
“I didn’t know you shopped.”
“Everyone shops.” I packed socks. You couldn’t go wrong with socks. “Otherwise, we’d starve.”
“I meant clothes shopping.”
“I’ve got to get them somehow, and shoplifting seems out of the question.”
“But you don’t enjoy it.”
“No.” I tucked away a selection of underwear. “But it’s like the dentist. Bad things happen if you don’t go.”
Especially according to Sara, a girl who made all her own clothes. I would have discredited her opinion, except that it sounded a lot like everything Gemma had ever said about my motley collection of garments.
“You got a coffeemaker.” Shane, I guess, had moved from the living room to the kitchen. “Stumptown. That’s good stuff. Need coffee? I’ll make you a pot.”
I winced. “No, I’m fine.”
“Might help take the morning edge off.”
Plain Jayne Page 15