Plain Jayne (18 page)

“But you can't ride right now anyway.”

“Rub it in, why don't you?”

“What else do you miss?”

“Oh, I don't know. Good coffee. Noah's Bagel. Central heating…”

“It can get pretty chilly at my parents' house.”

“No kidding. But, I have to say, there are a lot of things I'll miss when I leave the farm.”

“Like what?”

“The sense of family. Getting to do new things.”

“Such as working with wood?”

“Such as baking. Spending time with children. Doing things by hand and feeling that I've accomplished something concrete, you know?”

“I do. They're good kids, aren't they.”

“Your siblings? The younger ones, anyway. Amos and Elam still think I'm weird. But Samuel and the girls are terrific. I used to think I never wanted kids of my own. Now…” I shrugged. “I think I could live with it.”

“That's a vote of confidence you don't hear every day.” Levi rolled his eyes before attacking another bite of ice cream.

“Listen. I never thought I'd want kids. But now, I don't know. I guess I'm open to it.”

“Raising kids isn't easy.”

“You think I don't know that? My parents reminded me on a daily basis. Probably why I wasn't wild about the idea in the first place.”

“You have a sister, right?”

“Beth. She's older.”

“What's she like?”

“Imagine the good kid.”

“Okay.”

“That's Beth.”

“Ah. You're not close?”

“We can't relate. She listens to Sandi Patty, I listen to Sam Phillips. I went to school, and she got her MRS degree.”

He laughed at my joke.

“Seriously,” I said. “It's not like I've really tried with Beth. I need to be better about that. She's the only sister I've got.” I caught a melted drip with my tongue and pondered that thought.

When I finished my cone and Levi finished his dish, we walked back to the shop.

“Thanks,” I said, swinging my purse, feeling happy and full of ice cream. “That was fun.”

“Thank you for joining me.”

By the time we'd returned, Spencer and Grady were nowhere to be seen. Levi followed me back to his office where my laptop sat, as satiated of power as I was of sugar.

“I'll be praying for you and your family,” he said as I wound up the laptop cord.

“I appreciate it,” I said honestly.

He held my computer bag open as I slid the computer inside. “I know how much rejection can hurt,” he said softly.

I felt myself grow teary again, but tilted my head downward so Levi wouldn't notice. “Yeah.”

“Know that you're talented, funny, and a hard worker. You've earned my parents' trust, and that's not easy. Don't base your self-worth on what your family has told you over the years.”

Levi's speech didn't help the impending waterworks, and this time I couldn't hide it. He frowned. “I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

I shook my head. “No. You said everything right, and it was one of the nicest things someone's ever said to me. I'm sorry…”

And the tears fell, despite the fact I'd apologized in advance.

I slung my laptop bag over my shoulder. “I should go.”

“Jayne—”

Levi reached for my arm. The feel of his hand stopped me in my tracks. “Everything will be all right,” he said, and with the utmost care he caught one of my tears with his finger.

And then, as far as I can tell, I kissed him.

On the lips.

It was just a little kiss, more like a brush. At least it started that way. It started as the tiniest nothing, but Levi wrapped his arm around my shoulder and the kiss deepened. I responded; he tasted like cookies and cream and smelled like cedar. My hands dug into his hair

This is nice
, I thought. I had stopped crying, focusing my attention on Levi and that moment until a single thought entered my consciousness.

Shane.

I stepped back, ending the kiss and disentangling myself from Levi's inviting hold.

I couldn't make excuses—I had started it. Couldn't apologize, because a kiss that good shouldn't be apologized for.

Levi looked at me, flushed and slightly stunned.

There was nothing to say. I left as quickly as my feet could move.

Hormones. I chalked it all up to hormones. If I thought about it, I remembered my monthly happiness should arrive next week, which would at least partially explain my erratic emotions and inexplicable behavior.

I dug through my bag until I found my phone. I plugged in my headset and then pressed buttons until I found Gemma's number.

“How's Amish country?” she asked when she picked up.

“Not there yet. Driving. If I get there and I still have reception, I'll tell you.”

“You sound upset.”

“I kissed someone.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Who? I'm guessing it wasn't Shane, or it wouldn't be newsworthy.”

I winced. “Levi.”

“The guy who drove your bike back?”

“That one.”

“Kim said he was cute.”

“Gemma!”

“What?”

“You're not supposed to encourage me!” I braked behind a slow truck. Why did trucks drive so slow when I was in crisis?

“If he was ugly, I wouldn't know what to say.”

“It doesn't matter if he's ugly or cute, the problem is that he's not Shane.”

“True. Are you guys still together?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want to be together?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then why did you kiss Levi?”

“I was emotional. He bought me ice cream…”

“Right. That makes complete sense. I always kiss men after they buy me ice cream.”

“Gemma!”

“Our eyes lock over the mocha ripple, and I just can't help myself.”

“Be serious.”

“No,” Gemma said, her voice turning serious, “you need to be serious with yourself. If you really like Levi, then maybe you should do something about it.”

“But Shane—”

“Probably doesn't want to be with someone who's into someone else.”

“I'm a horrible person.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Thanks.”

“I'm a horrible person too. That's the story of being a sinner.”

“Yeah, I know. I was at that church service too. I got the memo.”

“You'll make the right decision. Either way, you need to talk to Shane.” I sighed. “I know.”

After the crazy afternoon I didn't feel like a verbal sparring match with Shane. I drove back to the Burkholder farm, parking the car next to the buggy.

A light drizzle coated my head and shoulders as I crossed the driveway to the small porch. When I opened the front door, I found the family in the living room, gathered around Gideon.

Gideon looked pale. Martha looked worried.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

“He's having trouble breathing,” Sara answered.

All my senses jumped to alertness. “Has this happened before?”

Martha shook her head.

“Gideon?” I asked. “Does your chest feel tight?”

He shook his head. “It feels like Shoe is sitting on it.”

“Same difference.” I looked at Martha. “We need to get him to a hospital. Now.”

T
hey say cell phones are best for emergencies, right? Ireached for mine and flipped it open. No service. “Why! Of all times—where is the phone?”

Martha looked at me blankly. “The phone?”

“We need to call an ambulance, Martha. Gideon needs medical assistance.”

Gideon shook his head. “I'm certain…I'm certain it will pass.”

Martha ignored her husband. “Couldn't you just drive him in your car?”

“They have access to equipment I don't keep in my trunk. Where is the phone?”

“In the shed,” Amos said, speaking up for the first time. “I'll take you there.”

I followed him out the door, around the house, and behind the barn. I felt as though I should pray. Hadn't prayed for a while. Was I still allowed? Would God laugh at me?

For the sake of Gideon's life, I took the chance and asked for guidance and protection for the Burkholder family.

The shed sat adjacent to the barn, looking more like a place for an out-house than a place to chat, which is probably why they didn't. I lifted the receiver, relieved to hear a dial tone in my ear.

Amos started walking back to the house. “Don't go!” I said, as I dialed 9-1-1. “I need the address, and they may ask me things I don't know.”

He stayed, and it was a good thing. He gave me the street address, as well as Gideon's age. The operator advised giving Gideon a tablet of aspirin to chew. I looked at Amos. “Does your family keep any aspirin?”

He shook his head.

“I have some in my bags—”

Amos' expression turned bewildered. I spoke again into the receiver, asking if it was necessary that I stay on the line.

The operator asked a couple more questions about Gideon's general health before clearing me to end the call. After hanging up, I strode back to the house, trying to remember where in my bags I'd packed the aspirin.

“Why does he need aspirin?” Amos asked. “He doesn't have a headache.”

“Aspirin also thins the blood,” I said, not slowing. “I think your dad is having a heart attack, which means his blood is blocked and can't get to his heart properly. Aspirin makes it easier for blood to reach the heart.”

I quickly found a plastic bag of miscellaneous vitamins and painkillers in my room and fished out an aspirin. I took it downstairs and gave it to Gideon, telling him the 9-1-1 operator said to chew it.

He must have started feeling worse, because he took the aspirin without an argument.

The EMTs arrived in a blaze of flashing lights; Elizabeth began to whimper. Sara pulled her up into her arms and spoke softly to her in Dutch. We watched as the EMTs loaded Gideon onto a stretcher and fitted an oxygen mask over his face. After the ambulance doors closed, the driver told Martha she could follow them to the hospital.

She turned to me. “Could you drive me?'

Amos stepped forward. “Us. Could you drive us?”

“Of course,” I said, pulling my keys from my pocket.

Following the ambulance was easy at first, but after a while—and several red lights I couldn't run through—it disappeared into the darkness.

I realized I had no idea where the hospital was. “Martha?” I asked. “Do you know how to get to the ER?”

She nodded and proceeded to give me directions via landmarks.

I really hate when women do this. Men give street names, direction, mileage, and everything short of GPS coordinates. Women tell you to turn left at the second garden gnome. But Martha's husband was heading toward the hospital, fighting for his life, so I told my irritated self to hush up.

As I had this conversation with myself, Amos interrupted. “Take Queen and turn left on Elm.”

I thanked him.

I pulled into the ER parking lot and performed what was not likely to be the best parking job of my life.

Inside, the administrative staff informed us that Gideon was having tests done and we would be informed when we could see him, and that we could take a seat and the coffee dispensers were around the corner to the right.

I stepped back. “That was a lot of hurry up and wait.”

Martha frowned. “Hurry up and what?”

“Don't worry about it. Do either of you want coffee?”

Amos nodded, and I offered to go and discover exactly how awful the hospital coffee was.

Martha sagged against her son. “I need to sit down,” she said.

“You both sit down,” I said. “I'll find the coffee.”

I followed the instructions and walked around the corner to the right. But the farther I walked the more I knew I needed to make a phone call.