“I left after I gave you the quilt. I didn’t close your trunk all the way earlier.”
“What would you have done if I’d decided to put my things in the trunk? Your brother would have seen you!”
She shrugged. “When you came, I saw you had stuff on the seat of your car. I figured you would do the same when you left.”
“For Pete’s sake.” I rubbed my head. “Have you ever thought about working for the CIA?”
“What’s the CIA?”
“People who can sneak around almost as skillfully as you.”
“People who sneak are called CIA?”
“Never mind. Did I tell you how dangerous it is to ride in a trunk like that?”
“Yes. What happened between you and Levi?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Want something to drink? Bear in mind I haven’t grocery-shopped.”
We passed the time over tea, a stale package of Oreos, and I Love Lucy until there was a knock at the door.
A knock I recognized. I opened the door and there he was—six feet, three inches of gorgeous heartbreak.
I wanted to hate him. He made it difficult. But my feet felt cold just remembering the night I ran after him. My back straightened. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” The door closed behind him; he kicked off his shoes. I wish he’d kept them on. Being in stocking feet together felt much too intimate. “Sara…are you okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course she’s okay. She’s had tea and cookies and is watching I Love Lucy.”
“Sara?” Levi persisted. “You didn’t tell me about this. I wish you had.”
“You don’t have to baby me anymore,” Sara said in a soft voice. “I’m eighteen now. Girls my age are getting married and starting their adult lives. I’m starting mine the way I want to. The way I’ve always wanted to.”
I sat back down and gestured for Levi to follow. We formed a triangle: Sara and me on the sofa, Levi in the overstuffed chair by the door. I turned down the TV volume. The antics of Lucy and her cohorts cast flickering silver light on our awkward little gathering.
“I just want you to know what you’re getting into.” Levi tented his hands as he spoke. “Dad won’t acknowledge me as his son. Mom has to obey him, but she’ll be conflicted. Amos and Elam never forgave me; Rebecca might talk to me if her husband allowed it. Grandma will support you. You know I will…I just want you to be prepared.”
When Sara explained to him about her Social Security card and cash stash, Levi’s eyes widened. “That’s very good.”
“Have you thought about what you want to do, specifically?” I asked.
“I want to get my GED and attend the Art Institute of Portland. I want to study apparel design.” She reached into her other pocket, pulling out a much-folded school brochure. “I will apply for financial aid. I will get a job and earn money. If I need to, I will make quilts and take in mending to support myself.”
“Why did you leave with Jayne?” Levi asked in a quiet voice. “What you did was dangerous. You could have come to me.”
“You are too close. I could have changed my mind and walked home.”
Levi gave a wry smile. “You can stay with me at my house. Get your GED at Linn Benton Community College. Come to Portland when you’re ready.”
“Too close.” Sara shrugged. “Here, I can’t go back.”
An hour later Sara’s adrenaline began to fade and the fact that she’d been awake since five kicked in. Levi checked his watch and looked at me. “Let’s go check on that bookcase I made for you.”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that was code for “I want to talk to you without Sara hearing, and it probably wouldn’t be appropriate to go to your bedroom, so let’s hit the study.”
I didn’t mention how I’d had an urge to chuck the bookcase from the landing. The fact that I couldn’t lift any of it—dismantled or not—without personal injury was the main factor stopping me. That, and the fact that I had too many books.
We both rose and walked down the hall. I turned to check on Sara just in time to watch her eyes close in sleep.
Sleep, or she was sneaky enough to pretend. I didn’t care either way. The powwow was Levi’s idea, not mine.
He closed the door behind us. Like that wasn’t suspicious. “I’m so sorry about all of this,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” I ran a hand through my hair. After all, Sara being in my apartment meant that I was being dragged into the center of a complicated family issue—one I was sure I didn’t fully understand the implications of. That, and it meant Levi’s continued presence in my life.
I didn’t know how I felt about that.
“Thing is,” Levi continued, “unless you ask her to, I don’t think she’ll leave here.”
“I was getting that.”
“Are you okay with an eighteen-year-old roommate?”
“She’s not a normal eighteen-year-old, Levi. You know that. She’s been groomed since birth to be ready to run a household and raise a family. Most girls—women—her age can barely do their own laundry. Sara can do it without a connection to city power.”
“She’s my baby sister.”
“No, Elizabeth is your baby sister. Sara’s grown now, and you’re her hero. She watched you leave and make a life for yourself. She wants to do the same.”
“I made a life, and then I compromised that life.”
I hated the bitter tone I heard in his voice. “You came back so you could be available to your family, available to Sara.”
“And she hopped a ride in the trunk of your car.”
“She wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t have a goal. You gave her those brochures, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“She’s owning this, can’t you see? She’s not leaving because you pressured her into it. She strategized, planned—it’s hers. You should be proud.”
“You’re okay with her moving in with you?”
“Sure. She’s more qualified to live without adult supervision than I am.”
“Trunk, Jayne. Trunk.”
“Yeah, well, she probably won’t let as much mold grow in the fridge as I do.”
“True.” He looked around the study. “Where would you put her?”
“Probably in here.”
“I’ll bring up a bed tomorrow from the shop.”
“She left the Amish and you’ll bring her an Amish-style bed?”
“If she’s going to be a student, she needs to learn not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
A bed. One more object from Levi, one more arrival to be nervous about. I didn’t want involvement with him. I couldn’t take being hurt again.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said.
I wanted to punch him for being considerate. “Oh?”
“I wish things didn’t happen the way they did.”
That was vague.
“Okay. Um…well, if she’s going to stay here tonight, I need to make up a bed for her on the couch.”
Levi opened his mouth as if to say something, but he must have thought better of it. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“If I’m not here, Sara will let you in.”
“What hours are you working tomorrow?”
“Don’t know.”
“Guess?”
“Wouldn’t want to say, in case I get a call.”
“What kind of call?”
“The ‘Jayne, there’s a breaking story’ kind of call.” I didn’t mention that since I’d been in features, a whole series of people would have to be extraordinarily unavailable for me to get that call. It could happen, I suppose. Gas leaks aren’t an urban myth.
“I can always wait around for you here, if you’re late getting home.”
“What?”
“It’s a long day for Sara to be home alone. I’ll come up whenever and keep her company.”
There was no getting around him. “Sure, whatever. Anything else?”
He took so long t
o answer that I lifted my hand. “While you think, I’m going to make a bed up for her.”
In a matter of moments I had my spare bedding gathered, and this time Sara was truly asleep.
“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Levi commented.
“No kidding.” I struggled to lift her head high enough to put a pillow underneath.
“Let me help.” He reached under his sister and lifted her gently from the couch. While Sara was aloft, literally, I tucked a sheet under the back of the cushions and arranged the pillows. After he laid her back down, we both tucked a comforter over her sleeping form.
We stepped back, neither of us daring to look at the other. I’ll admit that a part of me wanted to be next—I wanted to be tucked in too.
Cold feet. Cold feet.
“Have a safe drive,” I said.
Levi took the hint and walked to the door. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I thought about imploring him to leave me alone, to keep me out of things, to treat me as Sara’s roommate, nothing more. Instead I said nothing as I watched Levi put on his shoes, thread his arms into his coat, and leave, pretending he hadn’t broken my heart.
And pretending I hadn’t broken his.
Sara woke up at her usual time, five a.m. I came to that realization shortly after deciding that my apartment hadn’t been broken into, and the person making a loud breakfast for herself in my kitchen had in fact been invited.
I tried the traditional techniques; burying my head in my pillow, pulling the covers over my head. What no one ever tells you is that doing either of those things makes the air too warm to breathe.
Finally I swung my feet around to the floor, threw on my college sweats, and walked down the hall to the kitchen.
“Good morning!” Sara greeted me with a bright smile and a hug. “I woke up this morning when the sun streamed through the window over there. You get such very good light in here! I thought about staying in bed—I slept so well! But I decided to get up and make us some breakfast.”
My brain really only caught the last bits of her speech. “Us?”
“I made pancakes and eggs, and I found some bacon in your freezer, so I scrambled it with the eggs and put cheese on top, hope you like that, I couldn’t remember. Do you have potatoes? It’s so nice to have potatoes around. Potatoes and onions. You never know when you’ll need a good onion, and they go with every meal. Potatoes too—”
I held up a hand. “We’ll shop for groceries later. Can breakfast wait until I’ve showered?”
Sara nodded.
“Okay. I’ll be back.” I turned and all but stumbled into the bathroom. I considered it a success to get into the shower without finding that I’d brought a sock in with me. Afterward I felt better, the sleep cleared from my eyes and some of the mental cobwebs cleared out of the way. I dusted on a bit of light makeup and went back to my room to dress, knowing all the while that Sara might find fault with my ensemble.
To my surprise, she didn’t say a word about my clothes as she served our respective breakfasts onto two plates. Instead, she asked when we were leaving for work.
“We?” I asked, my fork hovering halfway between my mouth and the plate.
Sara nodded. “I thought I’d go with you this morning and then come home at lunch.”
My first thought was, “I’d lose my parking spot.” This was Portland, by the way. I had never parked illegally until I moved here. But my second thought was that it wasn’t fair to leave her alone in my apartment all day. There wasn’t a farm to run; she would be bored to tears. I could get her a visitor pass, especially considering that her family was the focus of the piece I’d be writing.
“If I bring you this morning, you’ll need to bring a book or something to keep you busy.” There was a computer bay, but throwing Sara into the internet would be like chucking her into the deep end of the swimming pool without arm floaties.
She nodded. “I’ll just sit. I’ll take my sketchbook. I can watch people and get ideas.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll take you to the ad department for that. They’re usually a little snappier than reporting and editorial.”
“Can you take me shopping soon? I would like to buy some of my own clothes.”
“What’s wrong with my jeans?” I said, rolling my eyes before I smiled. “Sure. I’ll see when Gemma’s available. Or Kim—she can be good at finding sales.”
“I like sales.”
I knew Levi would have to figure into all of this at some point.
Which meant I would have to call him.
I mulled that over as Sara showered and readied herself for her first day as an English girl.
Chapter 35
Sara and I ran into Kim inside the foyer of the Oregonian offices. Of all mornings.
“Jayne! You’re back. Who’s this?”
Thinking I could be saved by brevity, I smiled and kept it short. “This is Sara. She’s my new roommate.”
“Sara?” Kim looked at me, looked at Sara, and then looked back at me. “The Amish girl?”
I could see Sara wilt. “Look, she left and she moved in with me. She’s hanging out with me this morning until lunch.”
“It’s ‘take your Amish roommate to work’ day? Wish I’d gotten the memo.” She touched Sara’s shoulder. “Sorry, great line, couldn’t resist. Want to grab lunch with us? We’ll make Gemma take us out.”
I was going to protest, but Sara’s face had taken on an almost unearthly glow of joy. “Lunch sounds good,” I said. “But right now I need to get her a visitor’s pass—”
“Wait.” Kim held out her hand. “This isn’t Levi’s sister, is it?”
“Um, yeah, it is. So, we’ll see you at lunch—”
“Any changes on that front?”
“Have a good morning!” I all but yanked Sara’s arm as I tried to make a break for it.
“She asks a lot of questions, doesn’t she,” Sara said as we’d turned a corner and I’d determined a safety level that allowed us to walk at a normal pace.
“Occupational hazard.”
Once Sara was processed and armed with a badge, I set her up on a couch not far from my cubicle. I left her with written instructions on how to find me, my phone extension, and an assortment of dollar bills if she wanted something from the vending machine.
At my desk I plugged my camera’s memory card into the USB reader and took a look at the images I’d gathered. The buggy, the barn, the stone path up to the door of the farmhouse. My pictures were fairly straightforward. Then others began to load, and I realized they were Martha’s.
Martha. Where was she in all of this? A mixture of guilt and grief clutched at my heart. Her daughter had left, and she used me to accomplish that. Martha had taken me into her home, treated me like family, and this is what had happened. I couldn’t help but feel it was my fault.
Had Levi communicated back to Martha that Sara was safe, dry, and had a roof over her head? The thought worried me so much I picked up the phone to ask.
“Jayne? Is Sara okay?” Levi asked as soon as he answered.
“She is. She’s at work with me. I was just wondering—did you tell your mom? Does she know Sara’s with me?”
“I told her Sara is safe, but I didn’t say where. I wouldn’t put it past Elam and Amos—or my father—to try to bring her home.”
“Drive all the way up in the buggy?”
“No, they’d take a taxi.”
“Oh. But they’re pacifists. The worst they would do is spend the night on the landing.”
“You don’t think that would be a little traumatic for Sara?”
“She’s stronger than you realize. Your mother needs to know where her daughter is.”
“Jayne, you don’t understand—”
“I have a pretty good hunch that mothers, no matter where they live or what they believe, generally want to know where their children are, even if it’s just a general idea. Your mother’s been very kind to me. It’s the least I can do.”
He sighed. “It’s your call. It’s your apartment. Don’t underestimate the mail brigade, though.”
“The male brigade? Are we talking about your brothers again?”
“Mail, as in the post. Rebecca wrote me letter after letter telling me how Mom cried herself to sleep every night and how much my siblings missed me. I asked my grandma once. It wasn’t that bad. Does anyone at the house have your mailing address?”
“Sara did. It’s probably written down somewhere in her room.”
“Mom will find it.”
“I’m not afraid of Amish mail.”
“Sara’s doing okay with everything?”
“Honestly?” I looked all around, making sure she hadn’t snuck up on me. “I don’t think it’s all sunk in yet. She’s running on a lot of adrenaline. How was it for you when you first left?”
He exhaled. “It got harder as I realized what I’d done, but I didn’t go back.”
I sat up, feeling particularly mature. “How are things on the job front? You are looking, aren’t you?”
“I have a couple interviews in Portland next week. Another in Seattle.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I could hear a smile in his voice. I missed his smile, the way it made me feel like melted chocolate on the inside. Before I could think too much about missing him, I mentioned work to be attended to and hung up.
At least I was telling the truth—I had a lot of work to do. But before I got to it, I had to talk to Martha. I dialed and listened to the line ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And that was okay. I didn’t expect differently.
After what seemed like half an hour, a voice answered. “Who is this?”
The voice was young and male. Amos or Elam? “This is Jayne. I need to speak with your mother.”
“Do you know where Sara is?”
“I need to talk to your mother.”
“Do you?”
“Who is this, Amos or Elam?”
A pause. “Elam.”
“Elam, please go get your mother.” He sighed, and there was silence. I had the distinct impression that the receiver was dangling over the ground as he went to fetch his mom.
Moments later I heard commotion and voices. Then, “Jayne? Is that you?” Martha’s voice held a note of panic that broke my heart.
Plain Jayne Page 28