A Plain & Fancy Christmas

by Cynthia Keller

  Still, however scared she might be, whatever difficulties she might encounter, this was what she needed to do. Besides, the Lawrences were clearly eager to help her every step of the way, so she wasn’t alone. There was no point in being afraid. She gave a little nod of resolve.

  “Okay, then,” she announced. “Let’s move in!”

  It didn’t take long for them to unpack. When Nina and Gil rang the doorbell at six that evening, Rachel and Katie were sitting side by side on the sofa, looking through the maps Nina left for them.

  “How’s my wonderful granddaughter?” Gil asked, giving Katie a hug.

  She seemed only too glad to hug him back. Rachel wondered if she associated this grandfather with her grandfather at home. Katie had always loved spending time with Isaac, taking long walks with him, stopping to kneel down and identify a plant or insect. Did she compare the two men?

  The four of them went back to the Lawrences’ apartment, Nina saying she wanted them to relax inside and not have to deal with any more people that day. Rachel was grateful. She was pleased to reenter the familiar peace of their home. Gil excused himself to call a patient, and Nina served Rachel a glass of sparkling water, telling her to relax while she finished putting supper on the table.

  “See,” said Nina with a smile, “I called it supper, like an old pro.”

  Rachel laughed.

  “Come, Katie, my love, please help me in the kitchen.”

  The two of them left Rachel alone. Sipping at her water, she wandered over to the bookcase, tilting her head to read the book titles. Some of them revealed little to her about their subject, but others made it clear they were about art, history, travel, science. So many books, she thought, reaching out to touch the thick spine on one.

  “Do you like to read?”

  Rachel whirled around at the sound of Gil’s voice, her face flushing as if she had been caught stealing.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Smiling, he took a seat on the sofa. “Is there any particular subject that interests you?”

  “I don’t have much time for reading. We read aloud to the little ones, but there’s a lot to do on the farm.”

  He nodded. “Well, if you had the time, what kinds of things would you want to read about?”

  “I … I don’t know. Anything, I guess.”

  He seemed to give this thought. “What was your favorite subject in school?”

  She smiled. “That was a very long time ago. Let me think. I liked reading stories. But I liked everything.”

  “Did you graduate from high school?”

  “No, not high school. I graduated from our Amish school. We go through the eighth grade. That is how we do it. We learn what we need to, and then we’re done.”

  “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, again, that I’m so ignorant of the way you live.”

  It dawned on her that, without her chores, she would have a lot more free time now. “I might have a chance to read while we’re here.”

  “If there’s anything here you’d like to take, please say so. Any book we have is yours.”

  She glanced around, abashed. “I would have no idea what to pick. Could you recommend something to me?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” He went over to the bookshelves and ran a finger along the books, considering his choices. “This is good, animals in Africa, beautiful photography. Katie would enjoy that, too. Now, we need a novel …”

  When he was done, he set down a stack of six books on the coffee table.

  “Take them back with you, and browse through at your leisure. See if anything appeals to you. We’ll take it from there.”

  “Thank you so much.” Rachel put out a hand to touch the glossy cover of the book on top. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get back to Ellie’s apartment to start reading.

  Katie appeared. “Grandma said to ask if you would please come in now to eat.”

  Grandma. Up until now, Katie had been calling her Nina, and Rachel wondered who had initiated the change. She considered whether or not it bothered her. No, she decided. That’s what Nina was to Katie, her grandmother. It made sense. They were here to forge relationships, and this was part of it. She herself wouldn’t be making the switch to Mom and Dad, which seemed to be going too far for her. No, this was a good step for Katie. Rachel smiled.

  “Tell Grandma we’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 26

  Ellie held the smaller container of horseradish with one hand and the apples with the other, leaning slightly to one side to resist the bucket’s weight as she followed Leah outside and across the street to the vegetable stand. Saturdays were the busiest selling days, so both Annie and her thirteen-year-old son, Zeke, were working in the shade of the white wooden structure, moving among the shelves. Along with their neighbors, Ellie had discovered that the customers tended to be tourists who usually drove past the sign, then came to an abrupt halt as they realized what they had seen. They would back up for the chance to buy fresh food, and maybe converse with the Amish.

  “Good morning.” She extended the bucket of apples questioningly, then set it down on the shelf to which Annie pointed.

  Leah and Annie got busy rearranging the display of lettuces, spinach, and onions to fit in the new additions. Any time she came by the stand, Ellie found herself entranced by the variety of colors and textures, fruits and vegetables in one area, flowers in glass jars and Laura’s candy and noodles in another. She was amazed by the craftsmanship of the toys whittled by Judah and Annie’s eldest son, William, only fourteen. It had been a surprise for her to recognize Rachel’s hand-quilted place mats and table runners, but Annie explained that Rachel always kept a supply on hand, and had stockpiled extras before she left for New York. A couple of days ago, Ellie had taken a close-up photograph of the stand, and planned to blow it up and frame it for her kitchen wall. It was an amateur effort, but the result made her feel happy. She made sure to ask Annie’s permission before she took the shot, even though she had no intention of capturing anyone Amish in it.

  “How are you, Zeke?” she asked Annie’s son, who was holding a bushel basket of zucchini for his mother while she continued to arrange the vegetables.

  “Fine, Ellie. It’s a good day today.”

  She smiled. She loved talking to the King children, every one of them polite and enthusiastic. She couldn’t help thinking that it was the startling contrast between them and the people she had typically spent her days with before coming here that made such an impression on her. The utter pleasure of not trying to analyze anyone’s underlying motives was a sensation almost like muscular relaxation, as if she could go mentally limp and still feel completely safe. She didn’t have to protect her flank, keep her enemies close, or outmaneuver the opposition—all the military analogies of business she had come to despise.

  The next day was Sunday, when the community went to worship services, as they did every other week. That meant no work would be done other than what was absolutely necessary, like milking the cows and feeding all the animals. Ellie hadn’t requested to go to worship, nor had anyone suggested it to her, and she was getting the idea that outsiders were not typically invited. Last week, when there was no church service, the family had gone to visit friends, but Ellie stayed home, not wanting to intrude. So far, she wasn’t sure if the Kings had told anyone about her relationship to them, but she doubted it would stay a secret very long, if it even still was. Either way, her presence would create all sorts of distractions during a get-together with their friends, and she was happy to read and catch up on some paperwork left over from her move. She had even baked a dozen biscuits, wanting to practice some of the new recipes Leah had been teaching her. They weren’t the best biscuits she had ever tasted, she decided, but they weren’t the worst either, which she took to be an excellent sign. She didn’t know if she had it in her to be a good baker, but she was certainly going to try.

  In the morning, Ellie was back to milk the cows, but immediately afterward, s
he returned to her house to shower and change. She didn’t want to say anything to the Kings yet about her plan to get a job until she had something definite to report. Getting into her car, a seven-year-old used Ford that Isaac helped her find, she followed her local map until Carson’s restaurant came into view. She pulled into a parking spot, glad to see the Waitress Wanted sign still in the window. Two days before, she had remembered the sign, although she wasn’t sure how or why. She must have noticed it out of the corner of her eye the day she told Rachel that she was moving here. Waitressing might be the perfect job for now; she could do it in the evenings, so it wouldn’t interfere with working on the farm. It wasn’t glamorous or high-paying, that was for sure, but she would be busy, and when the day was done, she wouldn’t bring work problems home with her, as she had done for years.

  Smoothing down the front of her shirt, she went inside. An older woman at the register smiled. “May I help you?”

  “I’d like to apply for the waitress job.”

  She pointed. “You need to talk to Carson.”

  So there was an actual Carson, Ellie thought. She could see a man in a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, seated at a table at the farthest end of the room. His head was down, and he was looking through papers, a cup of coffee at his elbow.

  “Thanks.”

  She made her way between tables, about half of them occupied by customers, and stopped in front of him. He had dark brown hair on the long side, extending below his shirt collar in back. She would have thought he could sense her presence, but he didn’t look up.

  “Hello. I’m Ellie Lawrence and I wanted to talk to you about the waitress job. Is it still available?”

  He kept his eyes on his task, flipping through pages with columns of numbers on them. “Yes, it is. You have experience waitressing?”

  He could at least look at me, she thought. “Well, not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?” He still hadn’t raised his head.

  She was getting annoyed. There was no reason to treat her so rudely. “No, I haven’t been a waitress. No.”

  “So why do you think you qualify?”

  Fuming, she snapped at him. “Because I was a vice president at a corporate New York public relations firm, so I know how to work hard. And I can be trained.”

  At last, his head came up. He was, she saw, in his late thirties, younger than she had expected. His face was somewhat rugged, and he had large, hazel eyes that looked intently into hers.

  “Well, that certainly got my attention,” he said. “I don’t get too many corporate VPs applying to wait tables here.”

  “It shouldn’t have taken that to get your attention, you know,” she retorted.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He sat up straighter. “I’ve had a lot of applicants, but none of them have worked out, so I suppose I’m not jumping up anymore when someone comes in. And I was caught up in these numbers, but that’s no excuse.”

  She shook her head. “Not the way to do business. Not that you asked.”

  “Please.” He rose halfway, shaking her hand and gesturing to the chair across the table from him. “We’ll do a proper interview. I’m Carson Holt. I own this place, plus two others.”

  He signaled to the waitress, the girl with spiky hair who had taken care of Ellie and Rachel.

  “Something to eat or drink?” he asked Ellie as she approached.

  “Thank you. Coffee would be great.”

  He asked the girl to bring them both hot coffee, then leaned back in his chair and stretched his long, blue-jeaned legs sideways so they extended out past the table. He gave Ellie a questioning look. “So. May I ask what made you wish to change careers from vice president to waitress?”

  She hesitated. This man was attractive, and she didn’t want to deal with that. She had no interest in starting anything romantic with anyone at the moment. She looked directly at him again, and he smiled. Was that actually a dimple on one cheek?

  She coughed to give herself a chance to concentrate on the matter at hand again. “It was time to leave. I recently moved here, so I’m looking for work. I do a lot of work on my family’s farm, but I need something else. Nights, Sundays maybe. That would allow me to do both.”

  “You grew up on a farm around here?”

  “No.”

  He looked confused. “I’m sorry, you said you work on your family’s farm …”

  “Oh.” She smiled. “It’s a long story. But I grew up in New York City.”

  “What did you say your name was?”

  She repeated it.

  “Okay, then, Ellie, why don’t we give this a try and see what happens. You want to shadow Lisa here today? You can see the brunch situation. Mondays we’re closed, but you can help on Tuesday night. We’ll see how that goes. Is today okay?”

  “Today is fine. What’s the salary?”

  “Minimum wage plus tips.” He looked amused. “I’m guessing you might have made a little more in your old job.”

  “Yes, but here, I’m hoping I don’t have to sell my soul to collect my paycheck.”

  His eyebrows went up in surprise. “I think that’s a manageable goal.”

  She smiled and extended her hand. “Great. Then we have a deal.”

  Chapter 27

  Katie came through the doorway from the bedroom. “Is this all right?”

  Rachel, wrapping up the zucchini bread she had just finished baking, leaned to the right so she could see through the kitchen’s open doorway. She tried not to show any emotion at the sight of her daughter with her hair down in long braids, dressed in English clothes. Nina had helped them shop for the skirt and blouse the day before, but Rachel hadn’t seen the pieces on together, her daughter’s kapp off. Nor had Katie put the clothes on at home yesterday, instead leaving them in the shopping bag overnight. Perhaps, Rachel thought, her child was as stunned as she by the idea of wearing them, and a little afraid to go near them again. The white cotton blouse and blue flowered skirt were both modest. Still, the effect shocked her. She had never seen her child wearing anything but Amish clothing.

  It had never been her intention to dress Katie in English clothes. What prompted the change were the accumulated effects of a couple of weeks in New York, watching what Katie had to endure because of her Amish garments. It wasn’t just the pointing and whispering on the street. When they went into stores, the salespeople spoke slowly and loudly to her, as if she were deaf or incapable of understanding English, not that shouting would have helped anyway. Strangers often treated her as if she were a doll, kneeling down and commenting on how adorable she was, touching, without asking permission, her sleeve, and, incredibly, her hair, and firing questions at her. If Katie was going to interact here, she would have to blend in. Her clothes was the obvious place to start.

  “I wonder what the kids at school will say on Monday.” Katie went back into the bedroom. Emerging from the kitchen, Rachel could see her examining herself from different angles in the mirrors lining the closet doors.

  Indeed, Rachel thought. With the help of Nina and Gil, Katie had been enrolled in a small private school, with only ten children in each grade. They explained that every child there worked at his or her own pace, so if Katie was ahead or behind in different subjects, it wouldn’t matter. Rachel had agonized over whether or not to homeschool her, but decided this would give her an opportunity to meet other children. The two of them couldn’t stay in the apartment all day, and she needed to be with people besides her mother and grandparents. So far, it was working out well. The school term had only begun a few weeks earlier, so Katie hadn’t missed much. She had already brought a little girl named Jessica back to the apartment to play one afternoon after school. Jessica was stunned to find they didn’t watch the television that was there or even own a computer, but Katie distracted her with puzzles and board games, and she seemed to have a good time in the end. Jessica’s mother picked her up at five o’clock, and her effort to make casual conversation while stealing glan
ces at Rachel’s clothes were almost comical. Rachel didn’t mind. She was glad that her daughter seemed to be settling in. Katie knew she wouldn’t be allowed to play at anyone else’s house—that was too big a risk for Rachel to take—but she was welcome to bring anyone over at any time. It wasn’t a big group to select from, with only five girls in her grade, yet she appeared to be happy. That was all Rachel cared about. When they first got to New York, Katie had wet the bed three nights running, which had worried Rachel. But that seemed to have stopped. The new English clothes would play down the differences between Katie and the other children even more. Rachel herself wouldn’t exchange her clothing for English clothes. As a member of the Amish church, she wasn’t allowed to. Katie was a child, not even baptized, not yet a full church member. Therefore, she wasn’t breaking any rules.

  “Are you ready to go?” Rachel picked up her purse and two sweaters, one for her and one for her daughter. It was sunny outside at the moment, but the October afternoon could quickly grow cold.

  Clearly self-conscious in her outfit, Katie followed her mother into the hallway, ringing for the elevator while Rachel locked the apartment door behind them. Today, they were having lunch with Nina and Gil, plus Blaine and Louis Lawrence, Rachel’s grandparents and Katie’s great-grandparents. This was the third time they had gotten together with the older Lawrences, and Rachel was developing affection for her newly acquired grandparents. She liked their quiet dignity. They treated Rachel and Katie as if they were family members with nothing unusual about them. She wished the same could be said for all the other people they had met lately; a number of them were ill at ease around them, or awkwardly waited for Rachel to make conversation, as if afraid they would say something wrong. She understood their nervousness, but it was exhausting to set other people at ease all the time. She herself was growing overwhelmed with trying to make a good impression, meeting more people in a few weeks than she had met in ten years at home, and learning what seemed like hundreds of new things every day. At least Katie was responding well to the stimulation; she had developed a fascination with the city, studying the street maps and reading about the landmarks.