by Beth Wiseman
A few moments later, she thanked the waiter for her wine and started looking over the menu. The only thing that would have made the evening perfect was Ryan sitting next to her.
She ordered the chicken parmesan with fettuccine and a Caesar salad, and then told Pam and Phillip about her unexpected visitor.
“You definitely could have brought your young Amish friend tonight,” Pam said, smiling. “I don’t know anything about the Amish. I would have enjoyed chatting with him.”
“I would have called to check with y’all first, but he was tired, and they don’t watch TV in Amish country, so he was joyfully flipping through the channels when I left.” Charlotte smiled, happy she had come.
“It’s so great to see you,” Pam said as she studied Charlotte for a few moments. “And, wow, you look amazing.”
Charlotte had worked extra hard to cover the dark circles underneath her eyes. Pam was an attractive woman, tall and slender with soft blond curls that rested just above her shoulders, and blue eyes that Charlotte knew were enhanced by colored contacts. “So do you,” Charlotte said, smiling. She looked over at Phillip. “So how did you two meet?”
Phillip finished a bite of bread, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and glanced at his wife. “We met in college, and even though college romances don’t always work out, ours did. We got married two months after we graduated.”
Charlotte quickly calculated that Pam and Phillip had been married about five years. She forced her envy away as she eyed the couple, the way Phillip looked into his wife’s eyes—the same way Ryan used to look at Charlotte.
Pam seemed equally smitten. “Phillip is wonderful. He’s in HR at a large CPA firm downtown.”
Charlotte’s friend had certainly done well for herself. Phillip was taller than Pam with dark hair, handsome sharp features, and eyes as blue as Pam’s. Charlotte briefly wondered if Phillip wore colored contacts too.
They settled into a comfortable conversation, and maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was Pam recalling some of their adventures in school, but Charlotte started to relax. All of her problems would still be there tomorrow, but for this night, she was going to enjoy herself. But she hoped Jacob was okay. She had charged her old cell phone and showed him how to use the Internet to make phone calls through apps that didn’t require cellular service. Hopefully he was calling home and making amends with his family. Charlotte loved Jacob like a little brother, but he couldn’t have shown up on her doorstep at a worse time.
Jacob kicked his feet up on Charlotte’s coffee table and scanned the television channels. There was an entire channel that was nothing but documentaries about space and the universe. After about an hour of watching a narrator talk about the big bang theory, he landed on another show with the same name. Four smart young adults who had good jobs as scientists. They were funny, though, and Jacob didn’t understand some of what they were saying, but it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He even laughed out loud, which was surprising, considering his circumstances. Jacob was thankful that Charlotte had stowed her dog in her bedroom. Little Buddy didn’t seem to care for him. Jacob had never seen such a small animal carry on like that.
After a while, he turned down the volume on the television so he could think.
First he thought about Annie and hoped she was okay. Next, he thought about his parents, pictured his mother crying and saying, “I knew this would happen.” Jacob felt a tiny level of comfort that they should have seen this coming, that it shouldn’t be a shock, except maybe to Annie, the woman he’d promised to marry and take care of for the rest of her life.
Jacob had loved Annie since third grade, and he could still remember the first time she batted her eyes at him. It took him a few tries, but he was finally able to get a call to go through to her.
“I’m so sorry, Annie, about everything. I know you’re hurting,” he said when she answered. “And I know it’s my fault.” He paused, his heart beating fast. “But when the Lord calls us to a different life, we have to listen to Him. I came here because I felt real smothered there. Not by you or anything. I just knew I needed to be in a place where I could figure out some things, what my life purpose is.”
“Your life purpose?”
Jacob clenched his jaw. He recognized the spitting anger in Annie’s voice; he couldn’t blame her.
“And what is your life purpose, Jacob?”
He’d practiced what he wanted to say, but this was tougher than he thought. “Ach, well . . . at first I just felt real trapped, like there was a world waiting for me to explore. But I loved you so much that I tried to make myself happy by staying. I do love you, Annie.” He could hear her sniffling on the other end. “Please don’t cry.” Jacob dabbed at his eyes. He couldn’t stand when Annie cried, and a few weeks ago, he would have done anything to prevent it. But now it was unavoidable. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I just don’t understand.” Annie’s voice cracked between sobs. “Why would you say you want to marry me, then go and do this?”
Jacob blinked back tears. He’d taken the most cowardly way out possible. “I should have thought things through.” He paused and took a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry, Annie.”
Silence.
“Did you hear me, Annie?”
More silence.
“Annie?” he finally asked. “You there?”
After a few seconds, Jacob knew she’d hung up. He picked up the remote and tried to distract himself, but after a while, he found himself pacing and restless. He’d handled things badly with Annie. Now what?
Charlotte listened as Pam told Phillip about a time when she and Charlotte had put bubbles in a fountain at a nearby church.
“We were so scared we’d get caught,” Pam said. “It was fairly harmless, but it was the worst thing either of us had ever done.”
They all laughed, and Charlotte was glad that she’d been able to salvage some good memories from her childhood, even though they were mostly from her teenage years, at a time when she was old enough to take care of herself and not depend on her parents. During her last two years of high school, she’d lived with a friend’s family. Ethan moved out that same year.
She excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, toting her purse so she could touch up her lipstick. On her way back, she slowed her steps, then jolted to a halt when she saw him. Ryan.
He was sitting with a woman, and they were holding hands across the table. When he lifted the woman’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, Charlotte’s jaw dropped as adrenaline rushed from the tips of her toes to the top of her spinning head.
Ryan wasn’t the type of man who moved into anything quickly, and it hadn’t been long since they’d broken up. How was it that he had already worked into a relationship where hand kissing was allowed?
Charlotte’s purse slid from her shoulder, and she left it there, hanging in the crook of her elbow. Maybe it was that action that triggered Ryan’s attention, or maybe Charlotte had telepathically called him to look at her. Either way, Ryan’s eyes met hers and widened as he sat taller. She forced herself to look away and headed back to her table, her heart racing. She’d pulled her purse back up on her shoulder and had barely gotten her breathing steady when she felt her purse vibrate.
She sat down, waited for the waiter to set their plates in front of them, then said, “Sorry. My purse is vibrating. I probably need to check this in case it’s Jacob.” She was sure it wasn’t. Her hand trembled as she read Ryan’s text.
This isn’t what you think. She’s a friend.
Charlotte shook as she typed in her own thoughts. She looks like more than a friend to me. But as her thumb hovered over the Send button, she thought about what she was doing. Maybe she should take the high road. She backspaced and retyped a new text. Enjoy your evening, Ryan. No worries on my end. I just want you to be happy.
Her thumb began to hover again, and as her heart thumped, she recalled how many times she’d apologized to Ryan. For checking his texts and pho
ne calls . . . and ultimately heaving a candy dish across the room during one of their arguments. He’d left her feeling like all her hunches and gut feelings were wrong, that he and Shelley were just friends . . . and that Charlotte was a jealous girlfriend. She deleted the text again.
He was cheating on me after all. And that is probably Shelley sitting across the table from him. She picked at her food while Pam flagged down the waiter for water refills.
Charlotte wasn’t going to feel peace until she knew one way or the other if the woman with Ryan was Shelley. If so, he’d lied about everything. Or at the very least, he’d wanted a relationship with Shelley, that is, if he wasn’t already having one when he was with Charlotte.
“Can you guys excuse me again? Sorry.” She nodded toward the back of the restaurant. “I thought I saw someone I know when I went to the restroom, and I’d like to go say hello if you don’t mind.” She hadn’t mentioned anything about Ryan to Pam or Phillip, only that she wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment. So it didn’t make sense to explain now.
She eased out of her chair and walked in the direction of Ryan’s table, her head held high. If the woman wasn’t Shelley, Charlotte would be polite, introduce herself, and show Ryan that she wasn’t a crazy, jealous lunatic. If it was Shelley, then she’d be polite, introduce herself, and show Ryan that she wasn’t a crazy, jealous lunatic—and she’d walk away knowing she’d gotten the last word, both of them knowing Ryan hadn’t been truthful with her.
She made her way in between tables, thankful she’d taken extra effort getting ready—including wearing Ryan’s favorite perfume. Ryan blanched when he looked up and saw her standing at their table.
“Ryan, hello,” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster. She turned to the woman and extended her hand. “I’m Charlotte, a friend of Ryan’s.”
The woman finished swallowing whatever she had in her mouth and quickly cut her eyes in Ryan’s direction before she looked back at Charlotte.
“Uh, hello. Nice to meet you, Charlotte.” The woman’s face began to mirror Ryan’s in color as she shook Charlotte’s hand. Even the best rouge couldn’t hide her pallor. She was pretty, with her short brown hair cut in a sophisticated bob, shiny white teeth, and high cheekbones.
Charlotte fought the urge to scratch her eyes out. “And you are?” She blinked her eyes a few times but kept a smile on her face.
“Uh . . .” The woman glanced at Ryan again.
Ryan cleared his throat but didn’t look at either woman when he said, “Charlotte, this is Shelley.” Then it appeared that Ryan stopped breathing.
Charlotte’s knees went weak, but she was determined to leave with her dignity intact. “Ryan, I just wanted to say hello, and . . .” She nodded once at Shelley. “It was nice to meet you, Shelley.”
She forced herself to move slowly as she turned on her heel and headed back to her table, unable to eat most of her meal. Doing her best to stay vested in the conversation with Pam and Phillip, she was failing miserably and finally told Pam she wasn’t feeling well.
Following promises to get together again soon, Charlotte hurried toward the exit with an urgency that pulsed through her veins, tempting her to break into a sprint. Once she was outside the building, she leaned against the brick wall as cars whizzed by on the street. Tears started to come in earnest, and she didn’t bother trying to keep them in. As she walked back to her car, she paused to type the most wretched text message she could come up with, filled with language that made her ashamed of herself. By the time she reached her car, she’d deleted the text again. But it took everything she had not to verbally rip him to shreds, the way he’d left her heart.
After the short drive home, she dried her tears as best she could before digging for her key at her apartment door.
“Jacob?” Charlotte pushed the door open. He wasn’t on the couch. Buddy was barking wildly from her bedroom, so she rushed to let him out, kicking the bowl of water she’d left inside the room for him. “Jacob!”
It was a small apartment, so it didn’t take long to conclude that he was gone.
She flopped onto the couch and noticed her pile of wadded-up tissues. As much as her heart hurt, she was worried about Jacob. He was a smart kid, or so she’d thought before today. But her Amish friend was far from street-smart.
Charlotte closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the couch. Buddy jumped in her lap, and after a few seconds of scratching behind his ears, she sat straight up and stiffened. Her eyes darted to the front door, where Jacob had left his suitcase when he arrived. The suitcase was no longer there.
She waited another three hours before she finally called Hannah.
“You lost him?” Hannah said after Charlotte explained.
“Well . . .” Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut, cringing. “I guess.”
Three
Jacob trudged down the sidewalk as cars whizzed by him. A hazy fog hovered overhead as darkness fell on the city. He’d walked for so long, he’d gotten lost. Charlotte lived in a busy area of Houston, and apparently a fancy part of town. Jacob had gone to three hotels trying to get a room, but everything was over a hundred dollars per night, like Charlotte had said it would be.
He knew Charlotte would let him stay with her, but she had a lot going on. And his feelings were a little hurt that she hadn’t been more welcoming. He’d spent nine dollars on a hamburger and french fries, and he’d given a man pushing a grocery cart five dollars. Now he was on the streets, walking with a heavy suitcase, unsure of anything in his life.
Charlotte was going to be worried sick, and the cell phone she’d given him wasn’t working. Dead battery, he assumed. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through well enough.
As he trudged along, he also thought about Annie. As much as he loved her, she didn’t want the same life he did. He could make a fresh start here, but not walking in circles in an unfamiliar city. And he’d told Charlotte he’d help her pack her things.
He walked until he saw a business lit up on his right, flashing red lights that read Terry’s Tattoos, so he pulled on the heavy glass door and walked inside. A cloud of cigarette smoke assaulted him and he fought the urge to cough. The place was loud, lots of buzzing, people sitting, lying down in chairs, and loud music blaring from every direction. He wanted to cover his ears.
“Hey! Look. An Amish kid.”
Jacob turned in the direction of the voice. A man was sitting on a stool with a drill in his hand, rubbing it against another man’s skin, a cigarette dangling from his lips. In a panic, Jacob looked around and saw lots of drills going. He’d seen a few tattoos on Englisch people before, but he’d never known this was how it was done. A large man with long blond hair, arms and neck covered in colorful designs, rose from a stool. Jacob couldn’t understand why anyone would do that to their body, but when the man asked if Jacob was here to get a tattoo, he briefly considered it, something to signify his new adventure. But then the guy looked at Jacob’s suitcase.
“Or are you running away, kid?”
Jacob cleared his throat as the man got closer, tempted to run. “Nee. I mean no.” He realized right away it was a lie. Of course he’d run away. “I—I need to make a phone call. I need to call someone. I . . .”
Another man sitting nearby reached into the pocket of his blue jeans and pulled out a mobile phone. “Here, dude. Use my phone.” Jacob set down his suitcase and walked to where the man was getting a colorful dragon painted onto his arm.
“Danki,” he said and took the phone, keeping his eye on the dragon taking shape.
“I like your suspenders. Where you from, hon?” a pretty lady asked Jacob as he walked back to where he’d left his suitcase. She was the only woman in the place and didn’t look like she belonged. She was getting something tattooed on her lower back.
“Lancaster County. In Pennsylvania,” Jacob said as he tried to remember Charlotte’s phone number. He’d memorized it before he left, but now he couldn’t even recall the first digit.
>
“Pretty country there.” The man who’d originally walked toward Jacob had sat down again and was back at work on an older man’s arm. He nodded toward the counter with the cash register. “Hey, we got pizzas over there if you’re hungry. Help yourself.”
Jacob stared at the phone, searching his memory for Charlotte’s number. It had been awhile since he’d had that hamburger. Annie always said he ate like he had a hole in his stomach. He moved toward the pizza boxes, carrying his suitcase. He stared at the pizzas covered in the one thing he didn’t like—tomato sauce. But he was a little nervous in this place, and he didn’t want to hurt these fellows’ feelings, so he chose the smallest slice, then turned to the man who had loaned him the phone.
“I’m sorry. I’m having trouble remembering the number.” Jacob wasn’t sure whether to keep holding the phone or give it back.
“Maybe the person you’re trying to call is listed. Just call information,” the lady said through a puff of cigarette smoke. “Although, these days, lots of people only have a cell phone and no landline. But it’s worth a shot.”
Jacob wasn’t sure how to do that. He searched the phone for an Information button.
“Here, hon. Bring it here.” The woman waved a hand toward Jacob. Holding his pizza in one hand, he gave her the phone. “What’s the name?” she asked.
“Uh . . . Charlotte.” He forced himself to take a small bite of the pizza.
“Cutie pie, we’re gonna need more than that.” She grinned, and so did the man decorating her back with the drill. “Like a last name.”
“Dol . . . um . . . Dolin—Dolinsky!” Jacob practically yelled it, and all at once he remembered Charlotte’s phone number. “And I remember the number.” He glanced around at all the friendly people, smiling and getting tattoos. One young man about Jacob’s age seemed to have a bad cold. He snorted some sort of medicine up his nose. Another man began asking Jacob lots of questions about being Amish. Nothing he hadn’t answered before. His town of Paradise was filled with curious tourists.