by Beth Wiseman
Evelyn guided them into a small parking lot, and a few minutes later they were seated across from each other inside a sandwich shop, drinking lemonade.
After a few gulps Jayce set his Styrofoam cup on the table and gazed at Evelyn. “I could live like this.”
“Nee, you couldn’t.” She spoke with an authority that surprised him.
“Why do you say that? My favorite times were with my grandparents on their farm. It’s slower here like it was there, quieter, peaceful. And from what you’ve said, there’s no performance pressure or desire to be better than someone else. There has to be peace in that way of life.”
Evelyn frowned. “We’re still human, Jayce.” She nodded toward the window. “Widow Byler, down that road, makes the best banana pudding around. She won’t share her recipe, and believe me, she prides herself on that pudding.”
“That’s just a small thing.”
“Mei own daed insists his corn crop is the healthiest and tastiest in the district.” She grinned. “And I agree, but he’s been known to brag about it. Both mei bruders flex their muscles anytime they’re around a woman they’re interested in.”
“Yeah, but no one is striving to have a better car, house, job, or more money than someone else.” Jayce sighed. “I’d buy a farmhouse, have a garden, and ride around in a buggy anytime rather than go back to the life I have.”
“Jayce . . .” Evelyn’s expression sobered. “You’re basically here on vacation. I know you’re working, but this is still just a change of scenery for you. After a month, you’ll be ready to get home, back to what you’re used to. And our way of life isn’t just about simplicity, even though that’s a large part of it. The simple living is symbolic of our literal translation of the Bible.”
Jayce thought about what was waiting for him back home. He’d find employment, move out of his father’s condo with the money he’d made on this job, and strive to be everything his father didn’t want him to be. Not out of spite, but because his father’s lifestyle had never suited him. But Evelyn had hit a nerve.
“You’re wrong.” He knew the moment he said it that he meant it. “I tend to interpret the Bible literally. Maybe that’s why I’ve had a hard time committing to any religion. I’m living a life that doesn’t represent how the Bible tells us to live. Other religions all have varying translations. I’m not saying that’s wrong. I’m just saying that the literal interpretation as written makes the most sense to me.”
She took another drink of her lemonade, then met his eyes. “So you wouldn’t mind living without electricity? No more fancy house, cars, television, or regular visits to the movies?” She shook her head. “It would be even harder for someone like you to convert to our ways.”
The jab stung. “What do you mean, ‘someone like me’?”
“Privileged.” She spoke softly. “I suspect you’ve enjoyed far more luxuries than the average Englisch person. Englisch is what we call non-Amish people.” Shaking her head, she said, “It would be too much of a stretch.”
Jayce loved a challenge, but if Evelyn had any idea how much he despised the life he was living, she wouldn’t think overhauling his life was such a stretch.
“I guess you don’t gamble. I mean, you’re not willing to lay down any money on your convictions.” He raised his eyebrows as he stroked his chin, already stubbly with an afternoon shadow.
“Nee, no gambling either.” She paused. “You haven’t even been here a full three days yet. You think you’ve stumbled upon a lifestyle you would find pleasing, an escape from whatever ails you back home.”
Jayce leaned back against his chair. “It’s more than that, but now you’re starting to get the picture.”
“But those things like not having electricity, no cars . . . They’re tangible things.” She placed a hand on her chest. “You have to find out who you are in your heart first. And even if you ultimately chose to live a slower-paced life, you don’t just buy a buggy and start riding around in it or purchase a house with no power and call yourself Amish. It’s about our beliefs, our relationship with Gott.”
“You’re doing it again. You’re presuming that your relationship with God is more solid than mine.” He tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but he’d worked hard to establish his relationship with God. “You look at me with my long hair, tattoo, and the luxuries I’ve had, and you believe that my way of life makes my relationship with God less than yours. Just because I have electricity, drive a car, and so on . . . You can’t judge my relationship with God any more than I can judge yours.” He smiled so she would know they were just having a friendly debate, even though it was starting to feel a little heated, which hadn’t been the intent. “You said your people don’t hang out with non-Amish people because they could become unequally yoked. I could say the same thing about you. I have no way of knowing you’re solid in your faith, other than you’ve said so.”
“Wow. As you said earlier”—she was quiet as she tilted her head slightly to one side—“I’ve never had a conversation this serious with an outsider.”
Jayce sat taller, rubbed his fingers on his shirt, then blew on them, grinning. “I’m not just any outsider.”
“Nee . . . I guess you aren’t.”
There was something playfully seductive in her voice. More and more, he wasn’t as interested in what was beneath the baggy clothing as he was in her mind. With every word this woman spoke, he wanted to get to know her better in other ways.
“I have one more day off tomorrow, and then it’s back to the cave for me on Monday.” He rolled his eyes. “Care to spend more time with me tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “Nee. We have worship service tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah. It’s Sunday.” He hesitated. “Can I go?”
“Nee, you can’t.” She rose from her chair, so Jayce did too. “I probably need to get you back to the inn so I can get home in time to help mei mamm make supper.”
It was only two o’clock. Jayce tried to read her expression for the couple of seconds before she turned toward the door. He got nothing, but something had changed.
On the way back to the inn, she was quiet and kept her eyes straight ahead.
When they pulled into the driveway, Jayce thanked her for lunch.
“You’re welcome.” She tried to smile, but he could tell it was forced.
“Did I, uh . . . say something to upset you?” He’d thought they were simply having a healthy conversation about God, but he must have pushed a button or something.
“Nee, not at all.” She made another attempt at an awkward smile.
Jayce stepped out of the buggy, but before he closed the door, he said, “I enjoyed today.”
“Ya.” She avoided his eyes. “Enjoy your stay.”
He closed the small door when she began to back up Millie. He watched her ride away, wondering what he’d done. Things weren’t the same, for sure.
Nine
Evelyn had never met a more misguided English person in her life, regarding her way of life. Jayce was incredibly handsome, compassionate, kind . . . and utterly clueless about Amish beliefs and traditions. He’d left Evelyn feeling frustrated, even though she had to question why. She was attracted to him physically, but some of the things he said had given her a headache.
As she rode home she pondered why she was upset. She’d been brought up one way, taught what to believe, and she’d never had someone challenge her beliefs or doubt them. Jayce put her on the defense about God, and she shouldn’t have to defend her relationship. Then why did she expect him to defend his? Was she judging him—doubting his faith? What right did she have to do that? And how had she allowed a handsome English man—whom she’d even kissed—to get under her skin the way he had? Was she so unconfident about her faith that Jayce had triggered a barrage of doubt she hadn’t even known existed?
By the time she walked into the house, her mood had taken a bad turn, and it must have shown.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lucas was sit
ting on the couch. He dipped his hand into a bag of chips, his socked feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Nothing.” She scurried past him toward the kitchen. Something was already simmering on the stove.
“How was your outing?” Her mother opened the oven door and slid in a loaf of bread.
“It was okay.” Evelyn picked up a chocolate chip cookie from a platter on the table. She was surprised her brothers hadn’t gobbled them all up.
Her mother turned, leaned against the counter, and wiped her hands on the kitchen towel hanging over her shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like it was okay.”
“It’s just . . .” She wasn’t sure her mother would understand what she was feeling, but it seemed too personal to discuss with anyone else. “You know how we try to stay detached from the Englisch?”
“Do we?” Her mother’s eyes grew openly amused.
“Most of the time,” Evelyn said as she sat at the kitchen table. “And we’ve always been taught to use caution, that those outside our community might not share our faith. But today, I felt like the one on the outside . . . like Jayce was questioning mei beliefs as much as I was questioning his. And it bothered me that I didn’t have answers for some of his questions. I didn’t know how to explain in a way he’d understand.”
Her mother pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “I’m surprised you had such a serious conversation with this boy when you barely know each other.”
“Ya, but he doesn’t like the life he’s currently living in Los Angeles. He’s attracted to our way of life, but he has no real understanding about it.” She took the last bite of her cookie and chewed on it the way her mind was chewing on Jayce’s comments.
“It’s not your job to minister to him or to defend or explain why we live the way we do.” Her mother sighed. “Although, it won’t be the last time you’re tempted to give explanations to the Englisch. You wouldn’t believe some of the questions I’ve been asked over the years.” She shook her head. “I once had a complete stranger ask me if I knew I was going to hell for not believing in Jesus.”
Evelyn straightened. “What did you say?”
“Ach, it ruffled mei feathers for sure. I wanted to tell her that I believe in Jesus and that I look forward to joining Him someday.” She shrugged. “But instead I smiled, said a silent prayer for her, and kept walking across the Rural King parking lot.” She found Evelyn’s gaze and held it. “Because that is what we are taught to do, not to engage about such subjects. And that’s what you should do in the future and with that boy. Don’t allow yourself to be swept into a conversation about our beliefs.”
“Ach, well, first of all, he’s not a boy. He’s a man, a few years older than me. And I doubt I’ll see him again.” It was true, but saying it aloud stung a little.
“That’s for the best.” Her mother gave a taut nod, then grinned. “Especially since he is a nice-looking fellow.”
Evelyn felt her cheeks turning red. “Ach, he’s nice looking. Just challenging.”
“Oh dear.” Her mother folded her arms across her chest. “Gut looking and challenging. That sounds exactly like someone you’d fall for. Definitely best to avoid him.”
“Why do you say I would fall for someone like that?” Evelyn wasn’t sure if her feelings should be hurt. It felt like it.
“Mei sweet maedel.” She dropped her arms to the table and leaned forward, a sympathizing smile starting at one corner of her mouth. “It’s one of the many things I love about you, but it’s also the reason you’ve rejected most of the fellows around here. You love a good debate. You thirst for knowledge, and you embrace challenge. You haven’t met your match, the intellect you seem to crave.”
She paused. “Maybe intellect isn’t the correct word. Understanding might be a better description. Telling you and showing you isn’t enough. You long to understand things on a level most of us don’t strive for. And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ll eventually bond and fall in love with a man who shares your curiosities.” Her expression grew somber. “And in light of what you’ve told me, it would be best to stay away from the Englisch boy, or man as you called him.” She pulled the kitchen towel from her shoulder, then stood and walked over to the oven to set the timer. “Now, I am going to spend some time with your father down by the creek.”
Evelyn knew her parents had been meeting at the creek like teenagers their entire lives. When they were younger, Evelyn and her brothers had made fun of the fact that their parents were still in love enough to want privacy. Now she found it to be sweet.
Her mother laughed. “Your father likes to debate things and have a well-rounded understanding of a subject, be it our faith or something else. You get that from him.”
After her mother left the room, Evelyn thought about her comments. Her mother might be right about Evelyn’s thirst for knowledge and understanding. But right now, she needed Jayce to understand her feelings. Or is it more than that?
* * *
Jayce sat in a rocking chair on the front porch. He could hear the meeting of the great minds in the dining room through the open screened windows.
By great minds he meant his father, Quinn, Hal, Giovanni, and Jesse. Out of the entire bunch the only true great mind was probably Quinn. She was the art director, probably the lowest on the production team totem pole, but she was smarter than all the men in the room. Too bad his father couldn’t recognize that. Someday Quinn would tire of his treatment and leave. She wasn’t one to cling to his diamond-studded coattails. Neither was Veronica, but even though their leading lady had cut personal ties to Jayce’s father, she still had a contract to fulfill.
Since arriving, Jayce hadn’t spent much time with Veronica and the others who had taken up residence in the motor homes. They were the lesser evil of the two groups right now, and he had to do something to get Evelyn off his mind. It bothered him that she judged him. Or did she?
He pushed himself out of the rocking chair and walked over to the motor homes. Veronica would be in the larger one, rooming with Kate, her hair and makeup person. There were also Jodi, Pam, and Lindsey, the part of her entourage who enjoyed a place on the payroll, although Jayce didn’t think they really had titles. Kind of like him. This job was a farce, a means to an end, an opportunity for Jayce to move on with his life. As the thought crossed his mind, it stung. Despite his desire to move out, he wished things were different between him and his father.
Jodi, Pam, and Lindsey were Veronica’s party buddies. Jayce had liked Veronica the first time he’d met her at a party. She’d been nice to him from the beginning, and later when she began to date his father, she’d often defended Jayce. She was like Quinn in that regard, though the women were opposite in every other respect. Quinn worked out, stayed away from booze and drugs, and focused on her job, determined to be the best at what she did. And she was.
Veronica partied. Way too much. Somehow it didn’t seem to affect her beauty or acting abilities. She was stunning on-screen and had a talent most actors only wished for. Maybe it was because she wasn’t much older than Jayce that she didn’t bother with vigorous exercising like Quinn, who was in her forties. Several people thought Quinn was more suitable for his father, but Jayce knew otherwise. Quinn would never put up with Brandon Clarkson in a personal relationship. Even Veronica had eventually tired of him and his overbearing, bullying ways.
Jayce recalled their split and how his father acted like losing Veronica was comparable to losing at the blackjack table—just a bad day and better luck would come along soon in the form of another woman. His father hadn’t dated anyone since they broke up. Jayce suspected the loss was more than his dad let on. Sometimes he caught his father looking at Veronica with regret and remorse, like maybe he realized what he’d lost.
The other motor home was the temporary housing for the camera crew. Jayce didn’t really know them. This was their first film to work with his father. So he tapped on Veronica’s door. Jodi opened it and stood in a pair of jean shorts with a
white tank top. In Jayce’s opinion, all three of Veronica’s playmates showed off more skin than necessary. Ironically Veronica, the star of the show, downplayed her physical assets.
He thought of Evelyn and her overly modest dress. Seeing women in this type of clothing would embarrass her, he was sure of it. His new friend had a level of modesty Jayce wasn’t familiar with, but he appreciated it.
“Hey, Jayce.” Jodi stepped aside, a martini glass sloshing in her twenty-five-year-old left hand. “Come in, sweetie.”
Jayce was only three years younger than Jodi, but she referred to everyone as sweetie, regardless of age or gender. He trudged up the steps, knowing he wouldn’t stay long. The smell of recently smoked pot hung in the air. He’d given all that up a long time ago, and while the smell didn’t make him want to gag or anything, it brought back memories of a time in his life he’d rather not think about.
Veronica sashayed into the room wearing jeans and a pink T-shirt. She could wear anything and look good. And despite her stardom—she was a big name in the business—she was always kind. He’d heard she panicked when her scuba equipment had a glitch on Friday, but he doubted she made a big scene or blamed anyone. Veronica was high maintenance on several levels, but she kept a cool head during a crisis.
“Jayce, hey,” she said as she pointed to the kitchen area. “Want a drink? We’ve got the usual. Red wine for Lindsey, martinis for Jodi and Pam, and of course the ever-popular vodka and diet cranberry for me.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” He glanced around the luxury RV his father had rented for the trip. The purchase price was probably well over a million dollars. It was nicer than most apartments in LA. He’d taken a tour when they first leased the forty-five-foot-long vehicle complete with three bedrooms, a cozy den area, and a roomy kitchen with an island. There were two bathrooms, three televisions, and recessed lighting along the floor and above the cabinets, not to mention the two electric fireplaces. The other motor home was a lot smaller but equally elegant.