Plain Jayne (37 page)

“What are you thinking?” Levi asked as we were driving back to my mom's.

“Just woolgathering,” I answered.

Truthfully, I couldn't get my mind past the conversation we'd had on the beach. I felt myself moving toward the ideals of the Amish: simplicity, family, faith. I craved the way I'd felt at the Burkholder farm—for the first time, I didn't feel my life was spinning out of control. Since then I'd restructured my own life, repairing my family relationships and reconciling with a God I'd ignored for too long. I was learning to quilt, bake, and make my apartment mold resistant.

Basically, I was moving from big-city life to the simple life.

And now Levi wanted to move in the opposite direction.

I knew he wasn't about to abandon his faith; he was stronger than that. The idea that we were otherwise moving in different directions scared me.

My mind took it one step further.

What if he did move to Portland? What stood in the way of us having a real, serious, adult relationship? The kind that led to “save the date” cards?

Nothing.

I was terrified.

I remained terrified through dinner, and our family-sans-Emilee viewing of
Witness
, with Levi pointing out all of the inaccuracies.

“An Amish woman would never be so forward toward an English man,” Levi said. “Ever. Even if she were in one of the least restrictive communities, she wouldn't speak like that with a man she'd just met.”

“Sara would swoon for clothes so tailored,” I added.

Levi chuckled.

“What was it like, growing up Amish?” Beth asked, not caring that the movie continued.

“I have a wonderful family. We were very close. I was raised to be a farmer, but I didn't want to be one.”

He explained how he left, turning his back on everything he was raised to be, and how he returned to be near his family.

“Now you're leaving them all over again.” Suddenly all eyes were on me. “Well, he is.”

“Jayne—” Levi started.

“And it doesn't matter that they need you or that they're your family. You're outta there, because they weren't smart enough, or old enough, to follow you.”

My mom stood. “Why don't I check on dessert?”

“I'll help you,” Beth said. Gary joined her.

Outburst over, I took that moment to study my hands. In detail.

“Thanks, Jayne. Appreciated that.”

“Sorry,” I said, although I knew a part of me wasn't.

“Does it bother you that much that I want to leave Albany?”

I didn't know what to say.

“Your family has welcomed you with open arms.” Levi's brow wrinkled. “You show up on the doorstep, and they let you in. I go home, and my brothers won't look at me. They won't look at me!”

“Your sisters look at you.”

“My father pretends that I am dead. I don't exist to him.”

“Your mother misses you.”

“But I'm not welcome in her home.”

“Sara talks about leaving.”

“If she leaves, she'll be just like me. She'll never see her older sister again; Rebecca's husband will see to that. And why do you care if she leaves? You're mad at me for leaving a second time.”

“I…” Anything I said made me look like a hypocrite.

“I need to take a walk.”

“It's raining outside.”

“I don't care.”

He stood, crossed the room, and retrieved his jacket. In an instant, he was out the door.

I stood and walked to the kitchen.

“You can stop skulking now.” I ran a hand through my hair.

“We didn't want to interrupt,” Mom said.

“If you'd interrupted, I might have stopped talking, and that might have been for the best.”

“Communication is the key to relationships,” said Gary, his sage words punctuated by a swig from his root beer.

“We should take Emilee home,” Beth said. To my amazement, she reached out and gave me a hug. I forced myself to relax. “Everything will be okay.”

I was glad she thought so. I wasn't so sure.

Levi returned half an hour later. I was on the couch reading Mom's
Reader's Digest
when he came back, jacket soaked, hair dripping.

I studied his face. “I'm sorry.”

He hung his jacket on the closet knob. I heard tiny pats of water hit the tile.

“Beth and Gary went home?”

I nodded. “And Mom's in bed.”

“Do you really want to be with me, Jayne? Or do you just like the idea of me? I'm not a quilt. I'm not your path to a more simplistic existence or whatever else you think you need.”

“I'm just trying to figure things out.”

“So am I. But you didn't answer my question.”

Beth's words at the mall floated back through my head. I was crazy for
Levi. I knew it. That scared me to death. What I didn't know, exactly, was
why
I was so crazy for him. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was the human version of my quilt squares.

That would be the easy answer. Life would be simple if I were crazy about him for all the wrong reasons.

Being with him for all the right reasons? That was serious.

He still waited for my answer.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you when I was with Shane. You, who you were. I don't know if how much of how I see you has to do with your job. I honestly don't know, Levi. All I know is that I couldn't get you out of my head.”

He took a step closer. “You need to see me for who I am. I'm not my job.”

“I…I want to see you for who you are. We just need time.” I took a step closer to him.

His hand glanced over my hair and then caressed my face. I closed my eyes. “I hope so,” he said.

I did too.

I
don't know anything about makeup sex, on account of my mother's voice in my head making me think about cows.

Makeup kissing on the other hand…hadn't really experienced that one either.

Until now.

We stood in my mother's living room, cradled in each other's arms. If I'd believed in ghosts, I might have worried about my father's disapproving glare. But Dad wasn't here. His body was in the urn on the mantle, and his spirit was in heaven.

My thoughts concerning Levi were wildly conflicting. I hated the idea of him selling the shop. I met him at the shop. I think I fell for him at the shop. I loved everything it stood for.

Without the shop, though, Levi was still Levi. He still smelled the same. His eyes still crinkled when he laughed. I knew he still cared about his family. I knew he still cared about me.

I knew this, because one of his hands was buried in my hair, the other nestled in the small of my back, holding me steady. His lips caressed mine, over and over.

We came up for air a couple moments later. His eyes burned into mine as he stroked my hair. “I love you,” he said.

I froze. I knew I was crazy about him. I knew I didn't want to be without him. But love?

Love was a big deal.

Rather than answer, I kissed him.

Kissed him and hoped he didn't think too deeply about it.

Before church on Sunday, Mom and I worked on piecing my quilt. It didn't take us long to get the whole thing pinned into strips. Levi checked in from time to time.

“Are things all right with you two?” Mom asked after Levi offered to bring us refreshments.

I didn't know how to answer. “How did you know that you wanted to be with Dad?” The question was difficult to ask, but I had to know.

“He was everything I was looking for—a believer, a leader. Handsome. I loved him very much. When everything fits together like that, you know.”

I wanted to ask a thousand questions. There were pictures of my dad smiling; I just hadn't been born yet to witness those smiles myself. Had he always been like that? What had happened—or who? Was there something about me that was so wrong?

“He loved you, you know,” Mom said, using the mind reading abilities she'd picked up the second she gave birth.

For a moment, I was confused. Did she know about Levi? But then my mind reoriented itself, and I knew she was talking about my father. My stern, unyielding father.

“He…he had trouble showing it. I know that parts of your childhood…” she took a deep breath, “couldn't have been easy. I'm so sorry about that. He was proud of you, though. Proud of your going to the university, proud that you had your job at the paper. Whenever you wrote an article, it spent a week on the fridge. After that, he put it into a notebook. It's around here, somewhere.”

“I didn't know.”

We both knew that I might have known, had I bothered to return home for more than a few minutes around the occasional holiday. My mom was gracious enough not to point that out.

I looked over my shoulder, checking the hallway for listeners. “Levi… told me he loves me.”

“Of course he does.”

“Not helping.”

“Do you love him?”

That's the question that frightened me. I didn't have a chance to even try to answer; as soon as I heard Levi's footfalls on the stairs, I turned my attention back to the prickly quilt.

After arriving at church, I received compliments on my flippy navy skirt, printed blouse, and tangerine cardigan, and reveled in the fact that I was the recipient of such comments. On my clothing, no less.

Sara would be so proud.

Miss Lynnie found me after the service. “Who is
this
young man?” she asked, not looking at all upset that I had a new husband candidate with me.

“This is Levi,” I answered, performing introductions.

Levi shook her hand carefully and complimented her brooch. Miss Lynnie smiled, delighted. “I like this one,” she said.

“Me too,” I answered. “He's also a believer,” I added, before she could ask.

“Of course he is,” she said with a wave of the hand. “How else would he know all five verses of
Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing
?”

She shuffled away after patting both of us on the cheek, her version, I think, of a blessing.