Lorie's Heart (7 page)

With her dress bunched around her waist, she studied her reflection in the mirror. The blue denim made her legs look long and her waist tiny.

“Here,” Luke said from outside the door. “Try these.” He dangled four hangers with shirts on them over the door.

Lorie hung them on a nearby hook and pulled her dress over her head. The red shirt caught her attention. It had a black-and-silver design on the front with swirls and rhinestones. Whether it was the embellishments or the taboo of wearing red, she bypassed the others and slipped it over her head.

“Are you okay in there?”

“
Jah.
” Disappointment filled her. The shirt was too little. It fit too close to her body, showing every curve and dip she had.

“Come out and let me see,” Luke urged.

“This shirt is too small.”

“Let me see.”

Reluctantly she stepped out into the shop.

Luke smiled at her. “It's perfect.”

She plucked at the fabric. “It's supposed to fit like this?”

He nodded.

How was she supposed to know? She never paid much attention to the clothes the
Englisch
girls wore. “I don't know, Luke.”

“I've got an idea. Wait right here.” His cane clicked as he made his way over to the rack of women's shirts and started flipping through them. Occasionally he would pull one out, look at it, then with a shake of his head, placed it back on the rack. “This one,” he said triumphantly. He brought the garment over to her. “Put this over the top of the red one.”

She eyed the stripey shirt with doubt but took it from him. It was sort of pretty. Plaid, she thought they called it, in colors of red and gray and white. It matched the T-shirt well enough. And the snaps on the front were pretty, some kind of pearly material that changed color in the light.

“Leave it open and roll the sleeves. Just a little,” he instructed as Lorie carried out his commands.

“Are you sure about this?” She turned to once again eye herself in the mirror. She certainly wouldn't be fooling anyone into believing she was
Englisch.
Not if they looked at her closely. Her face was devoid of makeup, her hair pulled back in a knot with the part in the middle and the twists on either side at her temples.

“Positive. How about shoes?” he asked as she bundled up her dress in her arms.

“These are fine.” She didn't want to spend any more of Luke's money. She would pay him back as soon as they returned to Wells Landing, but she hated being in debt, even for a little bit.

He shrugged, most probably figuring he had pushed her enough for one day, and together they started out of the store. They were halfway to the cash register when something sitting high on the top shelf of the women's section caught her attention.

“Oh,” she gasped, stopping in her tracks as she stared at the shoes. They were flats like many of the Amish women wore for special occasions, but instead of being plain black or white they were an animal print. Leopard.

Luke took three steps without her before he realized she wasn't at his side and he doubled back to her. “Do you like those?”

She shook her head. “They're probably not my size.”

“They look about right. Why don't you try them on?”

She shouldn't. She really shouldn't. But she wanted to so badly. Something about the shoes called to her. As if they knew her name and they were waiting there just for her. She shook her head again, this time to clear it of her fanciful thoughts. They were shoes. Nothing more.

“Go ahead.” Luke reached for her dress and waited patiently while she removed her shoes and socks and slipped her feet into the fancy shoes. They fit perfectly.

“We're getting those,” he said.

She opened her mouth to protest but no words would come. She wasn't sure what was so special about the shoes, but there was something. Something indeed. She gave Luke a small nod and followed him to the counter.

Walking out of the dressing room she had felt self-conscious, like everyone was staring at the Amish girl in
Englisch
clothes. But now she felt different. She couldn't quite explain it. Just different. Like maybe she could belong.

She pushed that thought away. Like Luke said, it wasn't as if she was leaving the Amish forever. This was just to pay one last visit to her grandmother and see if she could find out any more information about her
dat.

The cashier bagged Lorie's Amish clothes and helped her cut the tags off her new ones. Then she and Luke walked back out to the car. They climbed inside and without another word, he drove them to Sundale.

He pulled into a parking space, cut off the engine, and turned to face her. “Are you ready for this?”

“I think so,
jah.
” As she reached for the door handle, she thought back to the first time she had come here. She hadn't known what to expect then, but today she had a better idea. Today would be different, she could just feel it.

She stepped from the car and shut the door, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glass window. “Wait a minute,” she said, then pulled the pins from her hair.

“You're going to wear it down?” Even Luke looked shocked by the notion.

“
Nay, nay.
” She combed her fingers through the waist-length tresses feeling like a rebel. But this was perhaps the wildest thing she had ever done. When she had been running around, she had worked at the restaurant and helped with the younger kids. She didn't have as much time as most for getting into mischief. She hadn't gone to any of the wild parties that were always floating about in the rumors. She didn't drink alcohol or dress in
Englisch
clothes. So if someone found fault in her releasing her hair in public, so be it.

Satisfied she had pulled the stern middle part from her hair, she pulled it into a bun and pinned it at her nape.

So it wasn't the most forward of hairstyles, but it wasn't Amish and for today that was all that mattered. She looked at herself in the mirror, pleased with the transformation. She'd just have to remember not to send up prayers until she got her
kapp
firmly back in place.

“You're coming in, right?” Lorie asked him.

“Of course.” Luke limped along behind her as they made their way to the door of the home.

Amber and Carol sat behind the desk just as they had during her first disastrous visit.

Amber looked up doing a double take as she recognized the two of them. Perhaps her change wasn't as altering as she had thought.

“Lorie, right?” She smiled at them and shot the other woman a satisfied look. “I told you she'd be back.”

“I almost didn't recognize you,” Carol said. “You look great.”

Lorie's cheeks filled with heat. “I thought it would be best to come in
Eng—
regular clothes.”

“You're probably right.” Carol stood. “Miss Betty is in the rec room for arts and crafts, but I'm sure she'd love some company. I'll walk you down there.”

Arts and crafts? She wouldn't be able to ask any questions about her father. How was she supposed to find out more about the car and everything else that he'd kept a secret from his family?

But she didn't protest—couldn't protest—as she followed Carol to the rec room. She'd just have to bide her time and hope for the best.

So far he'd made forty-seven planes, two coffee mugs, sixteen ashtrays (who even used ashtrays these days?), and countless coasters. But still no sign of Lorie.

Finals were over, graduation done, and now he had the daunting task of finding his grown-up job. But he was distracted—plain and simple—by a blond-haired girl who hadn't given him the time of day. Maybe he should just chalk his obsession up to working too hard and let it go.

“Can you help with this?” Betty Mathis held the small plastic loom toward him. The colorful rubber bands were a tangled mess instead of looking like they formed an item.

“Sure. What is it? A necklace or a bracelet?”

“A bracelet. Yes. We're making these bracelets to take to the VA hospital.”

“The children's hospital,” Stan grumped. “Why would a grown man want a rubber-band bracelet?”

Zach smiled at the idea of a wounded vet wearing rainbow-colored jewelry. Then again, maybe it would be a good idea after all.

He started to unravel the mess that Miss Betty had created with her green and purple rubber bands. She had thrown in a red one every so often and the effect was . . . unique.

His attention shifted as the door to the rec room opened, and Amber stepped inside followed by . . .

“Lorie.”

He almost didn't recognize her in regular clothing. But she looked amazing. He half-stood as she came near.

Surprise lit her brown eyes as her gaze landed on him. “Hi.”

“Lorie has come to help with the crafts today.” Amber's tone was that of a kindergarten teacher. Zach liked the woman okay, but he hated that she talked to the seniors like they were children.

Fern pushed her glasses a little higher up the bridge of her nose and studied the newcomer. “I've seen you. You came a couple of weeks ago to visit with Betty.”

Betty raised her gaze from the knitting she had picked up the minute Zach started working on the bracelet. “Oh, Fern, you must be mistaken. I've never seen her before in my life.”

Fern let her glasses slip back into place and turned her attention to the loom on the table in front of her. “Uh-huh.”

For once Zach was glad that she didn't argue the point with her next-door neighbor. The two were like old hens when they started. But problems arose when Betty's confusion deepened and Fern insisted.

“Will you help me with this, dear?” Betty pushed the loom across the table in front of the empty chair next to Linda.

Lorie's smile was stunning.

“I think I'll go fill up the car.”

For the first time Zach noticed the dark-haired guy who'd been with Lorie the time before. Were they a couple? Did it matter? It might. She was dressed in normal clothes.

Wait, that wasn't fair. The clothes she had on the other times he had seen her were normal for her, but he didn't know how to refer to her change in attire.

Lorie looked panicked for a moment, then pulled out the chair and nodded.

Zach wasn't sure if she was more concerned about being left alone with strangers or the thought of helping Betty with the bracelet. Heaven knew he'd made a bigger mess of it than the sweet lady had.

“My name is Lorie,” she said to the table at large.

“Of course it is, dear.” Betty smiled at her. “You have your father's nose.”

She covered that nose with one hand and blinked a couple of times as if trying to decide how to answer and coming up short. She looked to Zach for direction, but he could only shrug. Who knew if Betty was truly remembering something or just making up her own reality? She had a tendency to do both regularly.

“You remember my father?” she asked. Her tone was offhand, like the answer didn't matter either way. But the tremble in her hands as she unwound the mess in the loom spoke of the emotions she was controlling.

“Of course, dear.” Betty handed her a handful of red rubber bands. “Put these every so often. It makes a nice color contrast, don't you think?”

“Very much so.” She sounded disappointed.

“He was my only child, Hank.”

“Hank?”

Betty nodded. “That's what I called him. Me and his father. Everyone else called him Henry.”

Lorie swallowed hard, tears misting her eyes.

Thankfully the rest of the seniors seated around them grew quiet as Betty continued to talk. “I have some letters that Hank wrote me years ago, I'm not sure why.” A frown puckered her brow as she separated out the bright green rubber bands from the darker green ones. “But since he's your father, you might want to read them.”

“
Jah,
” Lorie said. “I mean yes. Yes, I would. Very much so.”

Betty smiled and patted her hand. “You just wait right here, dear, and I'll go get them.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Zach asked. Sometimes Betty had a tendency to get sidetracked. She could come back immediately with the promised letters or sometime next week. It was anybody's guess.

“Oh no, dear. You stay here and visit with your new girl.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but got distracted by the pink flush staining Lorie's cheeks.

Linda put aside her bracelet loom and stood. “I'll go.”

“Thanks,” Lorie and Zach said at the same time.

Somehow the moment felt intimate, them both saying the same word simultaneously. Or maybe he needed to get some sleep, a new hobby, his head examined.

“She will come back,
jah?
” Lorie asked, looking around the table at the seniors.

“Linda will make sure she does,” Eugene said. He pushed his loom away and shook his head. “I give up. Someone without arthritis needs to do these.”

“You know anyone here without old Arty as a constant companion, you let me know,” Stan said.

“There's an easier way to do this.” Lorie's quiet words drew everyone's attention. She seemed uncomfortable with all eyes on her, but to Zach she looked cuter than ever.

“Show me.” Eugene nudged his loom closer to Lorie. “Please.”

“Sure.”

Lorie took the loom from him and started unwinding the rubber bands. In no time at all she had a completed bracelet. Betty hadn't even returned from her room with the letters she had promised.

Lorie removed the bracelet from the loom and handed it to Eugene.

“Well, I'll be.” He turned the piece this way and that examining it from all angles.

“Where'd you learn how to do that?” Zach asked. The Amish didn't wear jewelry. Did they? Then again, it wasn't like she was dressed particularly Amish today.

She shrugged one shoulder. “My sister makes them to sell to the tourists. She keeps a basket of them up by the register at the restaurant.”

The seniors continued to admire her handiwork. Zach leaned in close. “That guy you're with. Is he your boyfriend?”

“Just a friend.”

He gave a nod toward her. “And your clothes. Why were you wearing that dress at the auction and jeans today?” He asked his mother a ton of questions on the way home from Wells Landing. What she couldn't answer he'd looked up online. One thing was certain: the Amish were an interesting lot.

She looked a little panicked, and he realized his tone was a bit harsh.

“I was just wondering,” he tried again.

“I'm not turning
Englisch
if that's what you mean. I think I confused Betty the other day.”

He wasn't sure what turning English meant, but he could understand confusing Betty.

He didn't have time to ask anything else as Betty and Linda returned.

“Here you go, dear.” Betty set a shoe box on the table at Lorie's elbow.

Zach wasn't sure if she was going to open it or toss it in the trash. From the look on her face, he'd think it was full of snakes instead of letters from her father.

“He died, you know.” Betty sighed. “Well, that's what the therapist said. He told me that my granddaughter came by to tell me. Oh, how wonderful would it be if the two of you could meet!” Betty clapped her hands excitedly. “Maybe she'll come by again, and you can meet her then.”

Lorie snagged his gaze again. “Maybe,” they both said at the same time.

“They're serving lunch soon. Can you stay?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “I should get back.”

“Lunch!” Betty seemed equally excited by the thought of it and her granddaughter. “Oh, I do hope we have leprechaun pudding today.”

“There's no such thing as leprechaun pudding,” Stan groused.

“You've never lived until you've eaten leprechaun pudding,” Betty continued as if he hadn't spoken. “I wonder why we never have it.”

Stan and Eugene shook their heads in unison.

Lorie pushed herself to her feet. “
Danki
for the letters. I mean, thank you.”

“Is that German?” Linda asked.

“Pennsylvania Dutch,” Lorie said.

“Well that explains it,” Fern added.

“Explains what?” Betty asked.

“Why she was dressed Amish when she came last time,” Fern explained.

Betty's brow wrinkled into a delicate frown. “Vickie?”

“Lorie,” she corrected.

“She's never been here before.”

Fern shook her head. She knew better than to argue with Betty when she got like this.

“Have you, dear?” Betty asked.

Lorie looked to Zach. All he could do was shrug. Who knew how Betty would react when faced with the truth. Sometimes she was calm as a kitten murmuring her standard, “of course” while other times she would argue until lights out.

“I have,” she said gently. “But it's been a couple of weeks.”

“Of course,” Betty murmured, then her eyes brightened. “When you come back, will you bring me some leprechaun pudding? They never seem to have it here.”

 

 

Lorie picked up the box of letters, its weight reassuring and stressful all at the same time. She wanted to rip it open and search through the contents to make sure it really contained the promised correspondence from her father. Betty was flighty at best. For all Lorie knew the box could contain useless scraps of paper.

She wanted to say a small prayer that it contained the words of Henry Kauffman—or Hank Mathis, whichever was his true name. Her stomach fell at the thought that she might not have even known her father's real name. Her head swam with the notion, and her feet tripped over themselves.

“Whoa, there.” Zach reached out a steadying hand.

His fingers were warm and strong. Just what she needed at the moment, and she had to resist the urge to lean into him and gather some of that warmth and strength for her own. What would he think of her then? she wondered. Maybe nothing at all. English girls were more forward. But he knew she wasn't English.

Before she could give in to her weakness he released her. “I'll walk you out.”

Lorie smiled, thankful to have him at her side. “I didn't have the heart to tell her that I have no idea what leprechaun pudding is.”

“None of us do. I even searched on the Internet. Nada. We've decided that it has to be something she dreamed up in her head. One of the cooks even made vanilla pudding and colored it green with food dye, but she said that wasn't it.”

“Poor thing.” Lorie didn't know what else to say.

They made their way down the hall toward the front of the center. “What time is your friend picking you up?”

“I don't know. He's probably waiting in the car.”

“He should have come back in.”

“He thinks you like me.” Lorie slapped one hand over her mouth. These
Englisch
clothes must be getting to her. Why else would she say something so forward to a man who was practically a stranger to her?

Zach stopped, forcing Lorie to do the same. His eyes deepened until they were as blue as the twilight sky. “He's a smart guy.”

“W-what?”

“I do like you, you know.”

“
Nay.
I didn't.” Well, she had sort of hoped, but then realized the futility of that wish. Why did it matter if he liked her? She was going back to Wells Landing. This was her last visit to the center. She would spend the rest of the summer attending her baptism instruction and doing everything in her power to go forward with her life.

“Well, I do.”

Her breath lodged in her throat. “I've got to go.” She didn't know if Luke was even in the parking lot waiting for her, but she had to get out of there. She turned on the heel of her sassy new shoes and hurried toward the door.

“Lorie, wait.”

His footsteps sounded behind her, increasing the speed of her steps.

“Lorie!” He caught her at the door.

“Zach, I—” She gulped.

He turned as a small cough sounded behind him.

Carol and Amber were watching their exchange with interested eyes.

“Come on.” He clasped his hand around hers and pulled her out into the warm midday sun.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he tugged her through the rows of cars.

“Someplace where we can talk for a minute.”

She planted her feet and refused to go any further. She might not be knowledgeable in the ways of the
Englisch
world, but she knew better than to get in the car with a man she barely knew. “No.”

He must have sensed her fear or maybe it was the determined slant of her jaw. Whatever it was, he stopped. He released her hand and shoved his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It would be cooler in my car. I could start the air conditioner.”