Lorie's Heart (15 page)

She chewed on her bottom lip as indecision lit her brown eyes.

A big fist squeezed his heart. “I've put you in a bad position. I'm sorry.”

“I want to. Really I do.”

“But you can't.”

She sighed. “I can. Of course I can.”

His heart lifted. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

 

 

It would only be two more days until she got to see him again, but Lorie couldn't wait. Friday afternoon, when she got home from the restaurant, she snuck out to the phone shanty just down from their house. Unlike the one she hid in when she was meeting Zach, this one had a working phone. Three of her neighbors used it regularly, though most times her family called who they needed from the phone in the restaurant.

She held her breath as the phone rang on the other side of the line. She told herself it was all in the name of leprechaun pudding, but she knew better.

Still that would be her first topic of conversation when he picked up the phone instead of how badly she missed him.

“Lorie?” he answered, surprise coloring his voice.

“How did you know it was me?” She perched on the hard wooden bench as she waited for his answer.

“Caller ID.”

She wasn't entirely sure what that was, but she wasn't about to ask. It really wasn't important how he knew it was her, rather that he seemed so pleased to be talking to her.

“How did the leprechaun pudding go over?”

“The lime-mint stuff?” He sucked in a breath. “Some liked it. Others not so much. But it wasn't Betty's leprechaun pudding.”

“Too bad. I was hoping.”

“Yeah,” Zach said. “Me too.”

“Did you try any of it?”

“Uh, no.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Chicken,” she teased.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should have a taste-off.”

Lorie wrinkled her nose even though he couldn't see her. “What do you mean?”

“I'll try the mint-lime pudding thing if you try . . . sushi.”

“Sushi? Isn't that raw fish?”

“It doesn't have to be raw.”

“If you'll eat the lime and mint pudding and I don't have to eat raw fish, then I'll do it.”

“You will?”

“
Jah.
Sure. Why not?” She was feeling particularly adventuresome.

“Sunday?”

“Deal.”

“I'll see you then.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

Lorie hung up the phone and tried not to float back home.

She had two more days before she saw Zach again. Two more days before she could take him up on his sushi dare.

Sushi. It seemed so sophisticated and stylish. So
Englisch.

She wrapped her arms around her middle and gave herself a small hug of joy as she crossed the road and started up the drive. She wouldn't spoil her mood by trying to figure out exactly how she would get away on Sunday. She just would.

His buggy came into view first. She saw it before she saw him. But she had spent enough time in that buggy to know. Jonah had come calling.

She hadn't seen Jonah since their argument last week after church. She should feel bad that he had hardly crossed her mind since then, but they had argued so often she was used to the cross feelings by now. At least she thought she was. And it wasn't like they had broken up. Just had a disagreement. Jonah was busy helping his father on the farm these days while she was working at the restaurant and . . .

Running off to Tulsa with strange
Englisch
boys.

She pushed the thought away.

Jonah was her Jonah and nothing was going to change that. Not even walks in the park, sushi, and a long-lost grandmother.

He was sitting on the porch waiting for her, watching for her. He returned her wave and smiled.

She hadn't seen him in so long she'd forgotten how handsome he was. Tall and slender with wheat-blond hair and eyes the color of sweet maple syrup.

“Hi,” she said as she drew close enough that he could hear her.

“Hi.” He stood, stretching out his pant legs and adjusting the suspender galluses over each shoulder. “I would have come sooner, but it's been pretty hectic at the house.”

“I understand.”

He tilted his head to one side and studied her. “What's going on with you, Lorie?”

Her hands flew to her knot of hair. Did she look different? Could he tell? No, he couldn't. Surely he couldn't. But she felt a little conspicuous as he continued to survey her with searching eyes. “
Nix,
” she said. “Nothing.” She patted the back of her prayer
kapp
as if checking to make sure it was in place, then slowly lowered her arms.

“What's that?” he asked.

“What?” Lorie looked down her front, afraid that she had forgotten part of her dress or that somehow Jonah would know that she had been dressing
Englisch
on her days off.

“That.” Jonah pointed to the braided threads that made up her friendship bracelet.

“
Nix.
”

“Everything can't be nothing, Lorie.”

“It's a friendship bracelet.” Best to stick as close to the truth as possible. She wasn't doing anything wrong, not really. But that didn't mean Jonah would understand.

“I'm not going to ask where you got it or why. You've been having a hard time lately. I understand that. But I do need you to do one thing.”

She managed not to wilt with relief. “What's that?”

“Talk to the bishop about your troubles.”

“My troubles.” It wasn't quite a question.

Jonah took her hands into his, lightly squeezing her fingers in reassurance. “Death is a natural part of life, but that doesn't mean it's easy to accept. I know how close you were to your
dat.
”

She squeezed his fingers in return. “
Jah.
Okay, then.” How could she refuse him? He was only worried about her. But Lorie didn't need to talk to the bishop. She just needed a little more time. Once she joined the church, it would be harder and harder to justify going to Tulsa with Zach. After she and Jonah married, it would be impossible.

Marrying Jonah. The thought didn't fill her with excitement like it once did. She was being ridiculous. She knew from early on that she would marry Jonah, despite all their arguments and differences of opinion. No couple got along all the time.

He leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” But the words felt thick and uncomfortable.

“I only want what's best for you.” He rested his chin on her head, keeping her close, but not completely in the circle of his arms. That was Jonah. So traditional. He hadn't even kissed her lips, preferring instead to save that pleasure for when they were married.

“I know,” she whispered in return.

“Walk with me?” He released her as she nodded and took her hand into his own.

Together they started off down the path toward the small stock pond behind the barn. The Kauffmans only kept their horses and a few chickens. The restaurant business didn't allow for a lot of time to care for livestock and the pond was a remnant of the previous owner.

They walked side by side and another walk popped into Lorie's mind. Her and Zach on the Riverwalk. Such a fun day. So different than this walk since there were people all around, some skating, others jogging or biking. It was like going for a walk with the entire city and not, all at the same time.

“I've been talking with
Dat,
” Jonah said as they walked. “About where we will live after we're married.”

She stumbled a bit, but recovered her footing quickly.

“Are you
allrecht?
”

“
Jah. Jah.
” She had not given any thought to
after
she and Jonah married. All of her plans had centered around the
getting
married.

“He thinks as the oldest, I should stay there at the house with him and
mamm.
That way I'll be close for the fall harvest and replanting.”

It seemed logical enough. But living with Jonah and his
eldra
meant leaving her own family behind. Sadie, Melanie, Cora Ann, Daniel. The thought made her heart ache. But that was her duty. As Jonah's wife her place was at his side. The Bible was very clear on that. So why did the thought fill her with dread?

“You're quiet,” he said as they reached the small pond.

A couple of plastic lawn chairs sat close to the water's edge, so Cora Ann and Daniel could easily fish with minimal effort.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. It's just . . .”

“Go on,” he urged.

“That's so soon,” she said. “And so many changes. Maybe we should wait.”

“I don't understand.”

“Maybe we should wait until next year to get married.”

He blew out a quick breath and released her hands to prop his on his hips. “I understand that. I don't get why you said it.”

“It's been a hard year on my family.
Dat'
s gone. Everything is changing. Maybe too many changes in one year. I mean, Melanie is waiting until next year to marry.
Mamm
wants her to finish out her mourning before she joins her life with another.”

“Did Maddie ask you to wait?”

Lorie shook her head.
Mamm
hadn't asked her to wait. And she hadn't questioned why until now. Why did Melanie have to postpone her marriage and Lorie didn't?

“So you're saying you don't want to get married.” Hurt tainted his words.

“I'm not talking about never getting married. I'm just talking about not getting married this year.”

“What's the difference?”

“A year,” she said.

“Not funny, Lorie.”

“I'm not trying to be.”

“Then what are you doing? Breaking up with me?”

“I never said that.” Anger rose inside her. Why couldn't he understand? He was as bad as
Mamm
wanting to forget everything the minute her father died and moving on like it was no big tragedy. Well, it was a tragedy, and it was important to her.

“I've been waiting so long for you to join the church so we could get married. I don't want to wait another year. I'm twenty-four years old. Most of my friends have two kids now and here we are just about getting married.”

“This is life, Jonah. Not a competition.”

“I feel like I compete. I compete with Daniel and the others for your time. I compete with your father for your love and attention. I compete with anything and everything in your life because you keep putting it all ahead of me.”

“I do not.” He was wrong.

“You do.” Did she?

She crossed her arms and squeezed, needing a hug in the worst way. “I don't mean to.”

He blew out another breath, this one frustrated. “I feel like you're shutting me out, Lorie. I'm trying to give you time and space and whatever else it is you think you need. I've been more than patient, but it's wearing thin.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to get married this year, Lorie. I want to work on my father's farm and start a family with you. Is that so much to ask?”

“What about what I want?”

“I thought that's what you wanted too. I guess I was wrong.” He turned to leave.

“Jonah, I—” she began, but she wasn't sure how to finish.

He pivoted around to face her once again. “I'm done waiting, Lorie. The longer you keep this up, the harder it's going to make it in the future.”

“Are you saying the wedding is this year or not at all?”

His eyes clouded over with pain and regret. “
Jah.
So what's your answer?”

Tears stung the back of her throat. How could she explain? It wasn't that she didn't want to get married. She just didn't want to get married
now.
This year had brought so many changes, one more would make her crazy. It was too much. It made her heart pound and her mouth dry. Why couldn't he understand? Why couldn't they wait?

He gave a sad nod. “That's what I thought. Good-bye, Lorie.” He turned and left her standing by the pond. She was numb with grief and something else, something she couldn't name.

She watched him go, wishing Zach was there. He'd know what to do.

“You're awfully quiet. Are you sure everything's okay?”

They were halfway to Tulsa, and so far, Lorie had barely said a word.

“I'm fine.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Jonah and I broke up.”

He was nearly embarrassed at the surge his heart gave, and he was certainly glad she couldn't read his mind.
Down, boy.
The fact that she was no longer promised to another didn't mean jack. They were still from two different worlds. Worlds that had no overlap. “I'm sorry,” he murmured.

“For good this time. I mean, we've broken up before over the years, but this time he meant it.”

“This didn't have anything to do with me, did it? Or the trips to Tulsa?”

“No. Sort of.” She laid a hand on his arm. Her touch warmed and comforted, but after a second it was gone. “It's not your fault. It's no one's fault.”

“You sure about that?”

She smiled then, that sunshine smile that brightened even the cloudiest of days. “Positive.”

After her confession, she seemed more at ease. Zach was grateful. He enjoyed her company more than she would ever know.

They stopped for her to change. He loved it when she wore her flower-print dress and cowboy boots, her hair loose and free.

“I almost forgot,” she said as she got back into the car. “I brought you something.” She held out a small container filled with something green.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Lime and mint breakfast pudding.” She shot him a sweet smile like it was the best thing in the world. Or maybe that grin was devious.

“Are you sure I have to try this?”

“Only if you want me to eat raw fish.”

He cleared his throat and prepared to pull back into traffic. “I said you didn't have to eat raw. What I usually get is cooked.”

“We had a deal. You try this, and I'll eat sushi.”

He sighed. “Fine.” After all, how bad could it be?

 

 

Lorie wasn't sure what to expect from an
Englisch
church. She had passed by them, seen the ones in Wells Landing with their big white steeples with crosses on top that reached toward the sky. But she had never actually been inside one.

Zach parked his car and walked hand in hand with her to the front of the church. She told herself that he was only being supportive, but she enjoyed the feel of his strong fingers wrapped around hers.

“Hi, Zach.” The man standing at the door shook Zach's hand and gave him a bright yellow paper. It was folded in half, and Zach didn't bother to look at it. Lorie wondered if they passed notes like this every Sunday. “Good to see you today. Who's this?”

“Pastor Bennett, this is my friend, Lorie.”

Pastor Bennett shook her hand and gave her the same yellow paper that he had given Zach. “Glad to have you visiting today. Do you have a regular church home?”

“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”

The pastor smiled. “Good, good. Hope you enjoy the service.”

She nodded and stepped into the church. It was beautiful, this house dedicated to one purpose. The Amish believed that having church in the home reinforced the importance of family and togetherness, but she felt like God was watching her as she looked around His house.

The building was trimmed in beautiful oak wood with a smooth finish to rival the work of Abe Fitch. Mossy green carpet covered the floor and long benches lined each side. Stained glass windows graced the outside wall, letting in shards of colored light. A dove, an ark, even the three crosses of Galilee were depicted.

“What do you think?” Zach asked as he led the way down the center aisle.

“It's amazing. Beautiful.” Maybe even the prettiest building she had ever seen.

“Here.” He stepped aside and waited for her to make her way down the bench, then he followed behind her.

Her eyes grew wide, but she tried her best to hide her confusion. “You're sitting here with me?”

“Of course.” The warmth of him filled the space next to her. “Do Amish men and women not sit together at church?”

She shook her head.

“That's a shame. How can you share the Word together if you're not side by side?”

“I don't know.” She had never thought about it before. And she had never asked. The men sat on one side and the women on the other, and that was just the way it was.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers. She loved the intimacy of his hand over hers. Zach was much more open with touches. Most
Englisch
were, she had heard, but she loved it. Instead of making her uncomfortable, it made her feel special, cared about. She wanted to go on holding his hand for as long as possible.

He let go of her hand as a man in a dress shirt and slacks stood behind the tall desk up front. “That's the music director,” Zach explained. He pulled a book from the slats in the back of the seats in front of them and handed it to her.

“Now, if you will all turn to page one sixty-eight.”

A woman started playing a piano and another a similar instrument that seemed to magnify every sound she played. The people all around them began to sing. Lorie tried to follow along and soon got the hang of it, reading the words and singing as she read.

So many differences. So many things alike. She loved having music in church and being able to sing along to it. And she especially loved sitting next to Zach during the service. If the preacher said something particularly interesting, he squeezed her hand to let her know how he felt about it. This unspoken communication was new to her and intriguing.

They prayed out loud, which was different for Lorie, but she liked having someone put those words to God. And they stood while doing so, which seemed odd, but natural all the same. About an hour into the service, they sang another song, passed a couple of plates around to collect money, then the preacher led one last prayer and dismissed them.

The congregation rustled around collecting their things.

“That's it?” Lorie asked, hesitant to get her bag in case it was not really time to go.

“Yeah.” Zach shook the hand of the man in front of them, then grabbed his Bible. “Are you ready to get something to eat?”

“Just an hour?” Lorie looked around. Everyone seemed serious enough. The preacher had taken up his position at the door once again and was shaking people's hands as they left. The children came back into the church from who knew where. Lorie hadn't realized there were no kids at the service until they came back.

“How long is Amish church?” Zach asked.

“Three hours. At least.”

Zach whistled under his breath. “I guess if you add in Sunday and Wednesday nights it's about the same amount of time.” He took her elbow and led her toward the church exit. “But I wouldn't want to sit in one place for that long each week.”

“Every other week,” Lorie reminded him.

“That's right.”

They shook the preacher's hand. He invited Lorie to come back anytime and the two of them walked through the parking lot toward his car. People waved good-bye, made lunch plans, even shook one another's hands as they prepared to leave. All in all, it was an uplifting experience and not at all like she thought it would be.

 

 

Terrible. Worse than terrible. Lime-mint pudding was as close to poison as Zach had ever eaten. He swallowed the bite as quickly as he could, nearly choking as it slid down his throat. They were seated in the sushi restaurant, waiting on their orders to be delivered to their table. Lorie had insisted that he try the pudding while they waited.

He managed to hide his grimace.

“Do you like it?”

“It's good,” he managed. “Real good.”
Lord, please don't strike me down for lying.

She laughed. “No, it's not. It's terrible.”

“Wait. What?” He took a quick drink of water to wash the rest of the pudding from his mouth.

“It's awful.”

“But you said you liked it.”

“No,” she said slowly. “I said it was better than you think.”

“But—”

“I never said I liked it.”

“If it's so terrible, why did you make me eat it?”

She smiled. “I dunno. Just to see if you would, I guess.”

“That was a mean trick, Lorie Kauffman.”

“But funny.” She laughed, and he decided he liked the sound. He hadn't heard her laugh much. He supposed losing a father and finding a long-lost grandmother could do that to a person. As terrible as the lime-mint pudding was, he would gladly eat it again if it would make her happy.

 

 

“What is this one again?” Lorie used the chopsticks to pick up a piece of the sushi roll. She was getting the hang of this eating with sticks. This time she didn't even drop it.

“California roll,” he replied.

He had ordered them two variety platters that had different kinds of sushi for her to try. It was fun to eat something so exotic, though everyone in the restaurant looked just like her. Did that make her exotic too? “I think I like it best,” she said after she swallowed the bite.

“Everyone does. Did you try the volcano rolls?” He pointed to the piece with one chopstick. “Those are my favorite.”

She shook her head. “That one's too spicy.”

“Good,” he said, popping a piece into his mouth. “More for me.”

Sushi wasn't half bad, she decided. She picked out another piece. Nirvana roll she thought he'd said.

“So,” he asked, “What do you think?”

“I like it.” It was surprising. Sushi was so different than anything she had ever eaten. Her family's favorite place to eat—aside from their own restaurant—was a fast-food chicken place in Pryor. But they only ate there when they took someone to the doctor. Even then,
Mamm
would protest until Daniel joined in the persuasion. She always gave in to him.

“Now don't you feel bad for giving me that green poison?”

Lorie took another bite of the sushi and savored the many flavors bursting on her tongue. She acted like she was thinking about her answer. “No,” she finally said.

Zach acted like he was mad.

Lorie laughed. How many times had she laughed since her father died? Once? Twice?

“You should laugh more often,” Zach said, his eyes suddenly serious.

Lorie ducked her head. The moment between them quickly turned more intense than any one before.

“Sorry.” He flashed her a sheepish grin. “It's just you're so pretty when you laugh.”

He thought she was pretty? No one had ever said sweeter words to her before.

She would surely be cackling like a hen if she spent much more time with Zach. Being with him made her happier than she had ever been before.

The fact was frightening as well as thrilling all at the same time.

 

 

Lorie floated around all day Wednesday. Only one more day and she would see Zach again.

Despite the lightness in her heart, she had to control her giddiness. Word had gotten around the district that she and Jonah had called an end to their relationship. To appear too carefree would raise suspicions and send tongues to wagging. Nor would it show the conflicts in her heart. She loved Jonah, but it was hard to concentrate on those feelings with all the other things going on in her life. Had they already been married, their bond would have survived. But having to support their relationship, worry about joining the church, and deal with all the revelations this summer had brought . . . well, it was just too much.

She tripped around the restaurant, filling the napkin holders and trying to not appear as if she was falling in love. Because the person who filled her thoughts was not the man for her. “Lorie,” Sadie called from the kitchen entrance. “Phone's for you.”

Phone? She never had phone calls at the restaurant. Most everyone she knew was close enough to walk down and talk if they needed something. She hoped nothing was wrong with Caroline or the kids. Or Emily.

Flashbacks from the police calling to tell them that her father had been in an accident whizzed through her mind as she wound her way around the tables back to where her sister waited.

Sadie frowned, but Lorie couldn't tell if it was from confusion or consternation. Maybe it was sadness.

Her mouth went dry as she took the receiver and pressed it to her ear. “
Jah?
”

“Lorie?”

“Zach.” She hadn't meant her voice to be so loud. “Zach?” she whispered.

Sadie's frown deepened.

“I'm sorry to call you at the restaurant. I hope that doesn't cause problems with your family.”

She turned away from Sadie's hard stare. “No, it's fine. Is everything okay?”
Lord, please don't let it be Betty.

“My car won't start. I took it to the shop. They think it's the alternator.” He gave a small chuckle. “That doesn't mean anything to you, does it?”

“Not a thing.”

“Don't feel bad. Most regular girls don't know what that means either.” He paused. “That didn't come out like I meant it. Not regular girls. Non-Amish, I mean.”

“
Englisch,
” she supplied, hiding her smile.

“Oh, okay. Anyway, I won't be able to come get you. My mom needs her car, and my sister's husband is out of town.”

“I didn't know you had a sister.” Just one of the many things they never got around to talking about.