Almost Amish (17 page)

Next to her, obviously feeling no pressure at all, Julie hummed some tuneless melody while she poked at the fire in the stove. After a bit, she stood and stretched, then walked casually to the window and pulled back the curtain. Watching for Thomas.

The onion was taking its toll, and Susan’s eyes were beginning to tear. She wiped her eyes across her upper arm. “I think we need some fresh parsley, and I’ll want to mince some garlic. Perhaps we should go pull a couple of peppers from the garden. Do you think a hint of rosemary would be nice, or would that be too much?”

Julie frowned. “Susan, you’ve been talking about adding this, or more of that, for the last half hour. It’s just stew.”

“I don’t want to make
just
stew, or anything else for that matter. That’s not good enough. To me, cooking is like an art, and I don’t want to be a finger painter. In fact, I want to do everything to the absolute best of my abilities.” Julie continued to look out the window, obviously not taking the hint. “You haven’t seen your husband in two weeks; don’t you think he deserves more than a halfhearted attempt?”

“I . . .” Julie let her hand fall back from the curtain. She walked to the stove, opened the door and poked at the fire again. After a minute, she said, “I’ll just go get that parsley and those peppers for you.” She scurried out the door as if she were being chased.

Susan knew she’d hurt Julie’s feelings, and she
was
sorry about that, but she had spoken the truth. Shouldn’t Julie appreciate the fact that she had such a wonderful husband? Shouldn’t she want to make nice meals for him? She wiped her eyes with her sleeve again.
Darn onions.

A few minutes later, the door squeaked behind her as she scraped the carrots and onions from the cutting board into the pot. She supposed she should try a little small talk. “Is it still hot out there?”

“Yes.”

Silence. It hung in the air, like the heat that radiated from the stove.

Julie picked up a potato. She pulled out the trash can from beneath the sink and held the potato over it while she cut off the peel in long strips. She didn’t say anything for a while, then made a comment or two about the weather while she reached for another potato, and then the next. “The kids seem to be enjoying their one-room schoolhouse, don’t they?”

“And why wouldn’t they?” Susan looked up from her work with the celery. “There’s no one there but the three of them and a teacher who’s barely out of high school herself.”

Julie was shaking her head slowly. “When I was a teenager, I didn’t have all this pressure on me like our kids do now. Angie and the SATs, Whitney and the volleyball team. I spent summers at the pool—working in the snack shack, mind you, but still, the rest of my time was free time. I didn’t feel like I needed summer enrichment programs, or club sports teams, or Space Camp, just so I wouldn’t be behind when school started in the fall.”

“Whether or not we like it, this is today’s reality.”

“Personally, I’m enjoying today’s reality, here—no phone, computer, or television. There’s a lot of work to do, but at least it’s all focused. It’s all done for a reason—namely to take care of my family and the animals and crops that we’re raising. I think a lot of the other stuff we do in the modern world, a lot of the stuff we have our kids doing, is really not that important.”

Susan snorted. “Yeah, you’ll see how important it is come college-application time. Or job-application time, even more. With today’s economy and unemployment rate, how can you not want to give them every opportunity to find true success?”

“I’m just saying, I don’t think we’re teaching them true success.”

“And I think you are looking back to what once was and burying your head in the sand about today’s reality. You’ve got to—”

“He’s here!” Julie raced out the door and was standing beside the Suburban by the time it came to a complete stop. In spite of the fact that the windows were tinted so dark that nothing or no one could be seen inside, she was waving at the windows. The front door opened, and one of the usual drivers stepped out. He nodded at Julie and walked toward the production office. A cameraman climbed out of the passenger side and walked slowly around the car. He walked all the way around Julie to stand on her right side, and then nodded toward the car. The back door flew open, and in a flash Susan’s brother was out and picking Julie up, swinging her around in circles. He kissed her, just a quick peck, then hugged her tight and said something, which Susan couldn’t hear from inside, but any idiot would know that it was “I missed you” or “I love you.”

Julie had no idea how lucky she was to have a man like Thomas, so full of honesty and integrity. She couldn’t understand why Julie didn’t work harder on taking care of him. Thomas deserved excellent meals and a sparkling home. They’d watched their own mother provide it. Susan turned to put the celery and pepper in the stew, stirred the pot and put the lid back on, then took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and pushed through the kitchen door.

“Hey there, brother of mine. ’Bout time you got here.” She put on her happiest smile for Thomas, and she truly was glad to see him. He had been a rock for her this last year, and it made her feel more secure just having him here.

“Hey there, sis.” He hurried over and locked her in a bear hug. “So how’s the simple life treating you?” He grinned and made a sweep through her hair with his left hand. “I see you’ve changed your hairdo. I like it.”

“This is not a changed hairdo. This is what hair looks like when I’m not allowed to use a hairdryer and the humidity hovers around ninety percent.”

He leaned back and nodded. “You know what, it looks good on you.” He picked up his leather overnighter. “Julie was just telling me all about the creek, and the schoolhouse, and Brian’s observatory. How about I take my bag inside and then we go take a look. I’m dying to see the kids.”

“Well, we’re just in the process of making stew.” Susan cast a meaningful gaze toward Julie, hoping she would get the hint. “We’re supposed to feed the entire crew tonight, so it’s quite a large pot of stew. Not to mention some sourdough bread we’re just about ready to bake.”

Julie looped her hand through Thomas’s arm and walked toward the house. “Don’t worry, though, we can finish it up in a snap, and leave the stew to simmer for a while.”

Susan thought about the stew. She thought about how perfect it needed to be. She thought about trying to finish it in a snap. She thought about the plethora of horrible possibilities if it turned to mush; the flavors were wrong. “Julie, I’m really not sure that we’re a
snap
away from finishing.”

“Really?” There was no hiding the irritation in Julie’s voice. “I think it’s mostly ready, except for the potatoes I still need to slice up. Thomas is only going to be here for three days. I think we can shave a little time off stew making so we can spend more time with him, don’t you?”

No. She didn’t. And her future life depended on this. “Why don’t the two of you walk over there? I’ll stay here and finish up the stew.”

“Ah, come on, Suse. I don’t care about the stew. Walk over with us; tell me about what’s been happening.”

“What’s happening right now is I’ve got work to do, so why don’t the two of you get on with your journey so I can get back to my work?”

“Susan, if you want me to stay—”

“No, no. Sorry that came out harsh. I’ll just . . . I’ll just be happiest if I know this was done right. You two go ahead. Have a good time.”

Susan watched out the kitchen window as the two of them walked away, hand-in-hand, toward the schoolhouse. She looked toward the pot of stew—a pot of stew that somehow had the potential to decide her future. It almost made her laugh. Then Angie’s face came to mind. It was her daughter for whom she was doing all this. She had no Thomas. Angie’s future, that burden fell squarely on Susan’s shoulders and only hers. Somehow, though, she would find the strength to make it all work, and she could do it without anyone’s help. She had no choice.

Squeak.

Susan whirled around toward the sound of the back porch door opening. She saw Gary approaching the kitchen door and motioned him inside.

A grin lit his face as he entered the room. “Oh my, that smells good.” He closed his eyes and took a long sniff. “Really good.” He opened his eyes and held up a large brown grocery bag, still smiling. “I come bearing gifts and offers of help. I thought I could—hey, are you all right?” He took a step closer, his expression suddenly serious.

Only then did Susan realize that her eyes were filled with tears. She wiped them against the back of her arm again. “Fine. I’ve just been cutting onions, and my eyes are really sensitive.”

He nodded but studied her face for a moment as if not quite convinced. “Well, if you’re cutting onions, then I think I’m just in time with this.” He extended the bag toward her. “Sorry for the plain wrap-job, but I had to get it past Kendra somehow, and I was pretty certain she’d be suspicious if she saw wrapping paper and big red bows.”

“What is it?” Susan took the bag, surprised by how heavy it was.

“Just a little something I made that I thought you might enjoy using while you’re here.”

She opened the bag, reached inside, and drew out a large wooden square, maybe an inch thick. Only when she got it completely out in the open did she get the full impact of what it was. “This is beautiful.”

He shrugged, but he couldn’t hide the smile at her words. “I heard you tell Kendra you needed a bigger cutting board, and I was pretty certain she hadn’t gotten you one yet. I’ve been doing a little woodworking over the last few years, and this particular board design is called ‘Amish Quilt.’ I guess you don’t have to guess why.”

“No, I don’t.” The entire board looked almost like a tile mosaic, so precise was the placement of the various wood colors. The overall effect was like a quilt, made entirely of wood.

“I couldn’t help but try this one. I thought it would be useful now, and maybe make a nice souvenir to remind you of your time here after you go back home.”

Susan shook her head. “Thank you so much. I just don’t see how I could ever use it. It’s too beautiful to get all cut up.”

“Nope, don’t say that. No point having nice things just to put them away because you don’t want to ruin them. Now, as I said, I’m here to help. I saw that your brother and sister-in-law went on a little walk, and I thought you might like a hand with getting things ready. What can I do for you?”

He leaned on the counter, and his baby-blue eyes smiled at her in a way that was totally inviting. She looked into them a second longer than she knew she should. Finally she said, “We need to set the tables.”

“All right, then. Why don’t you come with me, and we’ll work together? Teamwork is so much more fun than working alone. Don’t you think?” Again that smile, those eyes.

“Yes, I do.”
Indeed.

Just as they’d arrived back at the house after their tour, Kendra had beckoned Julie and Thomas to be interviewed, a process Julie still felt nervous about every time. She’d discovered that staring just off-center, at the air-conditioner, made her feel less self-conscious than looking at the camera, or at the artillery of high-tech computers and equipment crammed into every available space in the shack. She hoped this would be quick, so they could get on with their Saturday evening.

“Mr. Charlton, if you can take the seat right beside your wife, we’ll get started in just a few minutes.”

“All right.” Thomas sat down and took Julie’s hand. He leaned over and whispered, “Okay, TV star. What do we do now?”

“I have no idea. Susan is the one that does most of the sit-down interviews. I’m usually just part of the live segments. In fact, I’m usually the one making all the mistakes during the live segments.”

“Not true.”

“Yes, it is. Haven’t you been watching?”

“Well, they’ve only aired the pie one, but I think a good portion of the women in America would have trouble making a pie they’d never made in a wood stove they’d never used.”