“You don’t know I don’t.”
“Do you love me, Jayne?”
“Yes!”
The look in his eyes wrenched at my heart. “I wish you were telling the truth.”
“It’s not that easy—”
“Sometimes it is. Goodbye, Jayne.”
He left, closing the door behind him.
I jumped to my feet and threw the door back open. “Levi! Wait!”
He kept walking down the stairs. I followed him, the damp soaking into my socks. “Levi!” I could hear my voice shake, but I didn’t care what anyone thought. “Please!”
His steps didn’t slow. He didn’t turn around, didn’t do anything to acknowledge that he’d even heard my voice. Levi, the man I couldn’t stop thinking about, climbed into his truck and drove away.
Just like that.
I spent the night in the living room next to my phone, in case he came back or called.
I left the door unlocked, so that if I fell asleep he’d still be able to come in, wrap his arms around me, and tell me everything was all right. I cried myself to sleep sometime around three.
Because I’m a creature of habit, I woke ninety minutes before I needed to leave for work. As usual.
I stumbled down the hall, but I locked the door before I did so. I didn’t need a weirdo entering my apartment while I was in the shower. I peered at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I looked like a typhoid patient.
Thoughts of calling in sick shot through my mind. The idea of not dealing with people appealed, but staying at home and continuing to cry my eyes out appealed less. I went through the motions of washing my hair, drying my hair, dressing in my most comfortable, work-appropriate clothes, and finding my keys. I couldn’t eat breakfast—the thought of food turned my stomach.
I managed to arrive at work without getting into an accident. Brian leaned over the joining cubicle wall after I sat down. “What happened to you?”
I didn’t feel the need to look up. “Bad weekend.”
“I’ve got a couple aspirin if you’re hungover.”
“I’m not hungover.”
“Sick?”
“No.”
“Woman’s issues?”
I slammed my pencil down. “Since when is that any of your business?”
“Sorry. My eyes have been opened to the difficulties of being female ever since I got married.”
Somehow, I doubted his increased sensitivity, and I guessed his wife would agree with me.
“I’m not sick, hungover, or experiencing untoward hormonal fluctuations.”
“Are you sure? Because ovulation can cause mood swings too—”
“Brian!”
“Sorry.”
But he wasn’t sorry enough. When I got up to use the restroom, I came back to find Kim and Gemma at my desk, textbook concerned looks on their faces.
“Brian, you just couldn’t help yourself.” I looked to Kim. “Do I get my chair back?”
“What happened?”
“Bad weekend. I was out drinking.”
“No, she wasn’t!” Brian said from behind the cubicle wall.
“Your pupils aren’t dilated. We don’t believe you.” Kim tossed her head.
Gemma lifted an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”
“Come on. Am I the only one who listens to Joely’s cop talk?”
“She lost me at Miranda rights.”
Seriously. “If I were hungover, you two would be giving me a headache. But I’m not. I’m just sad. Not hungover or hormonal or sick. Just sad.”
Gemma reached for my arm. “What happened?”
“We broke up, okay? Levi and I broke up. And I’m sad. But I’m moving through it.”
They went through the motions of trying to comfort me. It felt like rubbing a wool blanket over soft skin. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I mean, I’m a breakup pro. Me and Shane, me and Levi. I’m old hat.”
Gemma frowned. “I’ve never understood that phrase.”
“It means I am weathered or experienced. I think. If I’m using it wrong, you certainly wouldn’t know. Don’t you both have jobs? Food to taste, politicians to expose?” My phone rang. “I’ve got a job to do. You guys can drown me in ice cream and Love Story later.”
“Bleh,” Kim said, sticking out her tongue. “I hate that movie.”
Second ring. “Fine. The Way We Were. Bye!” I lifted the receiver and swiped at the dampness near my eye. “Tate.”
“Tate? Sol. Come in for a visit, why don’t you.”
I stood and leaned to the right so I could see through his office window. “Can’t we just chat about this over the phone?”
“Not while you’ve got a three-ring circus at your desk. Move.”
So I moved.
“If you’d managed to check your email,” Sol began as soon as I closed the door, “you would have seen that we’ve had a huge reader response from that Amish piece you wrote.”
“Really?” My outlook on life almost brightened. Almost, because it reminded me of the family of the man who never wanted to see me again.
“What’s going on? You look like—well, it would be ungentlemanly for me to say what you look like.”
“Flatterer.”
“Waiting.”
“Boyfriend. Broke up.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you broke up with that architect boy last week. What’s new?”
“Different boy. The family I stayed with?”
“You dated an Amish boy?”
“No, and he’s hardly a boy. He’s thirty-two. And he left the Amish, but they’re still his family. And…he left.”
“That’s no good. I called you in here to ask you to do another installment on the Amish series.”
“It’s a series?”
“It is now. Are you up for it?”
“Yes.” The word came out in a whoosh. “When?”
“Soon as you can. Might want to clean yourself up a bit. You’ll frighten the Burkholders.”
Knowing Martha, she’d probably feed me and wrap me in a warm blanket. The thought of being back at the farmhouse made me ache for the warmth of the kitchen and Elizabeth’s gapped grin.
We went over the word count and angle he wanted. I jotted a few notes and stood to leave.
“And Tate—”
I stopped, my hand on the doorknob. “Sir?”
“Take better care of yourself. Can’t afford to lose you.”
“Thanks.”
“New reporters annoy me.”
“I’m sure they do.”
I packed up later that morning, my emotions impossibly mixed. I longed to see Martha; I dreaded seeing Martha. In fact, I felt that way about the entire family. The last thing I wanted was to see Levi’s resemblance to his brothers, his sense of humor in Sara…
I was pathetic.
If only I had been able to tell Levi I loved him.
If only I knew I was telling the truth.
If only my intense attraction and affection for him had been enough. I knew I’d screwed up that night at my mom’s when I’d practically attacked him in front of the family. Not one of my prouder moments.
He didn’t want any less than all of me. Less than that was unacceptable. So unacceptable that he walked out as if I’d never meant anything to him.
Rethinking that night and that week and every other encounter made me cringe, but my mind wouldn’t stop the instant replays.
Was this part of God’s plan? Now that I was going back to the faith of my childhood, was this His way of making sure He had my full attention?
“That’s not playing fair, God,” I said out loud to make sure He was listening.
I ripped apart the Velcro holding my wrist brace together and then wiggled it off.
My wrist felt naked and unprotected without it. I flexed my fingers and rotated my hand. So far, so good. Maybe it was…
I winced and replaced the brace. Okay, not yet. But soon. I missed my motorcycle, a
nd this would have been a nice trip to take on it.
I stretched my back and neck and tried to recenter myself. I had to be stronger than this. I couldn’t be the girl who fell apart when a guy left. I had to hold strong to what I believed.
So what did I believe?
Chapter 31
On the way back to the farm I took a detour and drove out to Silver Creek Falls. There were a few other cars in the parking area, but I couldn’t see any people. With my hands shoved into my pockets, I hiked the short way down to the North Falls. The question I’d considered at the apartment had haunted me during the drive and stayed with me as I walked down the concrete path.
What did I believe?
I believed in God.
What was He like?
Was He someone I could trust? It was one thing to be told by a pastor that, yes, God was trustworthy, and entirely another to believe it for myself.
I could hear the falls as I approached. A fine mist filled the air.
The water was magnificent. I felt myself relax just watching.
I knew God was a father, and yet the only father I’d ever personally experienced wasn’t one I’d readily recommend. Did my feelings about God have anything to do with that?
Standing in front of the falls, I realized if I continued thinking along this vein I’d be here all day.
With a mixed-up heart I went back to my car and pulled onto I-5.
The moment I saw the farmhouse, I had a strange desire to get out of my car and race toward it, arms outstretched.
The breakup was making me crazy. I made a mental note to avoid romantically inclined relationships in the future. I wasn’t a fan of the fallout.
Having decided not to run to the farmhouse, I grinned at the sight of Leah and Elizabeth running toward me.
Then I started worrying about running them over. I remembered Levi complaining of the same thing—and the memory stung.
I stopped, yanked at the parking brake, retrieved my keys, and stepped from the car.
Leah and Elizabeth hugged my legs, asking so many questions I couldn’t understand a single one.
“What are you two doing out of school?” I tried my best to pick them up, one arm per child, but I couldn’t manage to get them two inches off the ground. “You’ve grown!”
“Teacher’s sick today. I lost another tooth,” said Elizabeth, pointing at a new hole in her mouth.
“Yes, you have. Is your mom inside?”
Leah nodded. “She’s in the kitchen. We’re going to have dried peach pie tonight!”
“Sounds yummy! Walk me in?”
The moment I stepped inside, I was embraced by warm, dry air filled with the scents of yeasty bread and roasting meat.
“Jayne!” Martha’s smile when she saw me was welcome enough. “This is a surprise.”
“I wish I could have written first, but my boss wanted me to write a follow-up piece for the paper.”
“Would you like to help with the pie dough?”
“Of course.” I took off my jacket, washed my hands, and picked up the rolling pin Martha had left on the counter. “I was planning on staying in town a few days.”
Martha frowned. “Why in town?”
“I didn’t want to be underfoot.”
“You must stay here. I insist, and Gideon will too.”
“How is he?”
Martha rolled her eyes. “He’s in the fields with Elam and Amos.”
“Not working too hard, I hope?”
She shrugged. “They’re keeping an eye on him. He’s stubborn.”
Reminded me of someone else I knew.
A thought struck me—this time around, if my computer battery died, I’d have to go to a coffee shop. Levi wouldn’t be opening his office electricity to me anytime soon.
“That looks thin enough,” Martha said, glancing at the pie crust dough. “You can probably stop there.”
“Oh.” Thin enough was being kind. There were places where the dough was near translucent in its papery thinness.
That’s what I got for thinking about Levi and trying to bake at the same time.
Sara chose that moment to swing around the corner. “Oh. It’s you.”
If I hadn’t read her letter, I would have thought she was completely indifferent.
“Yes, it’s me. What gave it away.”
Sara shrugged. “I heard you from upstairs. You’re really loud.”
“Nice to see you too.”
I turned my back, but I could feel Sara analyzing my outfit. Because she didn’t depart immediately, I knew she approved.
Success!
“We are very pleased to have Jayne back,” said Gideon at the dinner table that evening. “And very pleased that on the night she returns we are not eating fish.”
“I hear fish is good for your heart,” I said, mainly because I could get away with it.
“Good for your heart, but maybe too much is not good for your soul.”
Interesting theology. “How have you been feeling?”
“I feel like I am young again.”
Somehow I doubted that.
“Well, I’m just here to observe for a few days. I don’t want to get in anyone’s way.”
I think I heard Elam snort.
Punk.
“Grandma is coming the day after tomorrow,” Sara said. “We’re going to quilt together.”
“Really!” An idea popped into my head. “I’ve been working on my quilt. I’ll have my mom send it down.”
The shipping would cost an arm, leg, and a kidney, but I didn’t want to miss out on quilting with Sara and Ida.
Everyone needs something to look forward to.
As far as the breakup was concerned, I think I’d moved from denial to anger. I lay under a stack of Amish quilts that night, stewing.
Levi knew I’d just come off a relationship with Shane. He knew I was going through a lot of major life changes. Who was he to give me a “love me or leave me” ultimatum?
I wondered briefly if he had a brain tumor. I spent a few minutes worrying about him before I reverted back to anger.
I broke a plate at breakfast that morning. I may have been thinking about Levi at the time.
“You’re wearing your normal clothes,” Sara commented as we washed the breakfast dishes.
“I can switch, but there weren’t any other options in the guest room, and I forgot to ask.”
She looked around, checking for little listeners. “Your clothes look better than before.”
“Thank you. I went shopping.”
“With Gemma?”
“My sister.”
Sara gave an appreciative nod. “She did a good job.”
“And I pulled out my debit card with exceptional skill.”
“What’s a debit card?”
I explained, realizing the Amish weren’t exactly regular bankers.
“How are you and Levi…you know.”
“You mean are we still together?”
“Yes.”
“We aren’t.” I sighed.
“Oh.” She scrubbed another plate. “That was fast.”
Too fast. “It happens.”
“Was it you or him?”
“Meaning…?”
“Which one of you did something to ruin it?”
“Sometimes, relationships don’t work out. Not for things people did or didn’t do, but just because those people don’t work together.”
“You find out that people don’t work together by what they do or don’t do,” Sara pointed out.
“Stop being so smart.”
“Am I right?”
“Sara, give me a break. I’m trying to be a good ex-girlfriend and not speak badly of he whom I dated. Can I get credit for that?”
“You still like him.”
“We need to finish the dishes and start the laundry.”
“You still like him.”
“Be nice to me. I sent you contraband.”
“Do you think he’ll ch
ange his mind?”
I didn’t want to cry, not in front of Sara. “No, I don’t. What about you? Any boys sneaking through your window these days?”
Her eyes grew wide. “It’s a secret!”
“Well, so was Levi. Spill.”
“There’s no one.”
Was that because she planned on leaving? I didn’t want to know. We dropped the subject of the opposite sex altogether and paid very close attention to the rest of the breakfast dishes.
My mom agreed to overnight my quilt strips. I didn’t tell her about Levi. I couldn’t get myself to explain that I had ended two relationships in one month.
When the package arrived the following morning, I saw that my mom had also included enough fabric to back the quilt, as well as some edging and batting.
Ida arrived shortly after, and we set to work. I asked Martha for assistance with the treadle sewing machine, but she deferred to Sara.
Sara instructed me to practice with scrap fabric until I got the hang of the treadle sewing machine. Then she showed me how to thread the needle and fill the bobbin, place the fabric, and then run a line of stitches.
I watched her do it first. She turned the wheel on the right-hand side, using it to start the rhythmic movement of the needle slowly before beginning the pedaling movement with her feet. “Don’t push the treadle too fast,” Sara advised. “You want to keep control of the stitches. When you pedal, put your right foot ahead of the left, like this—” she lifted her skirt out of the way so I could see her feet with an unobstructed view. “It keeps your ankles from getting tired. Your turn!”
“I think I should watch a bit longer,” I said, not that she was listening. She’d already sprung from her seat and waited expectantly for me to replace her.
I sat. “Which direction do I turn this?” I asked, touching the wheel on the right.
“That’s the balance wheel. You always turn it toward you.”
“Toward me. Okay.”
“Do you want to practice the treadle?”
“Sure.” I pedaled a few times. Sara knelt, adjusted my feet, and had me do it again. “That’s good. Now try it with fabric.”
Plain Jayne Page 25