“No, it’s fine,” I heard myself say even before I had made up my mind. “I can bring a sleeping bag and an air mattress.”
I nodded. “You can sleep in the study.”
Levi nodded back. “We’d best be going then.”
I drove Martha and Amos back to the farm that night. I packed up what I would need while Martha packed for herself.
Sara had greeted us at the door, desperate for word. Martha explained the trip to Portland, and Sara began to pack.
I think that if her father weren’t going in for triple bypass surgery, she would have been completely delighted.
An hour later we left for Portland. Sara sat in the front seat next to me, her nose pressed to the glass as the farmhouses disappeared. I began to relax when the streets became truly familiar and my apartment complex came into view.
We woke up Martha, who had fallen asleep in the backseat during the drive. Sara and I carried the bags up the stairs, I unlocked the door, and everyone walked in.
My apartment seemed colder than I remembered. Granted, I hadn’t had the heat on for more than a week, but it was colder in a different way. It didn’t feel like home.
Levi called a few moments later, telling us he’d be there shortly.
I had Martha and Sara sit on the couch while I tried to get my room ready for their use. Not that it was bad, per se, but certainly not the standard of cleanliness I’d experienced at the Burkholder farm.
You wouldn’t want to eat off my floor. And maybe not the table, either.
I remade my bed with fresh sheets and checked the floor for stray underwear. I especially looked through the study before turning it over to a certain carpenter.
A knock sounded at the door, and I knew Levi had arrived.
He had a backpack over his shoulder, a sleeping bag under one arm, and a pillow under the other. “I really appreciate this, Jayne.”
I gave a crooked smile. “You’re welcome.”
“Sorry I was running late. I didn’t want to keep you up—you’ll get little enough sleep as it is—but I figured you didn’t have a whole lot in the way of groceries.”
Hadn’t gotten that far. “No…not really.”
“I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some staples.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You didn’t have to take care of my family.”
“So where are they? Did you fit them in that backpack?”
“In the truck. I’ll get them in a moment.”
“I can do that—”
He tossed me the keys. “Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Didn’t know quite why he said that. How much food did he buy?
I understood once I saw the bags piled atop each other in the cab. I unlocked the door to find milk, eggs, flour, sugar, shortening, butter, sausage, ground beef, baking soda, baking powder, deli meat, sandwich rolls, an assortment of condiments, and a lot of other things I’d have to dig through the bags to discover.
“I didn’t know what you had,” he said, coming up behind me.
“A little more than stale Pop-Tarts and beef jerky.” Although not much more.
“Like I said, I didn’t know what you had. And knowing my mom, she’ll want to cook.”
I’d give him that. “It’s fine. I really appreciate it. Truly.”
Between the two of us, we managed to haul all of it up the stairs in one trip. “Did you leave any food at the store?”
“The day-old sushi. I turned that down.”
“Right.” I set the bags on the kitchen counter and began loading appropriate items into the fridge.
“I’ll finish this,” he said, stacking boxes and cans. “You go to bed.”
“Bed’s over there,” I said, pointing at the couch not ten feet from the kitchen. “I have trouble sleeping when someone’s rummaging in my kitchen.”
“Doesn’t look like you’ve gotten yourself any blankets. I’m okay here. Go take care of yourself.”
I was too tired to argue. I grabbed my college-era comforter from my closet as well as an extra pillow.
Sara and Martha were already fast asleep in my room, two in the morning being far past their bedtimes. I snuck in quietly and found what I hoped were matching pajamas.
As soon as I was in the bathroom, I discovered I had a cupcake-print top with Harley-Davidson logo bottoms.
Oh, well. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, and then I looked at myself in the mirror. Circles were already under my eyes, yet I was still completely keyed up. I found some sleeping pills—I would need them if I was going to be able to sleep with Levi around.
I made up my makeshift bed while he puttered in the kitchen, finding homes for baking items I’d never used and likely never would.
“Almost done,” he said, wadding up empty plastic sacks.
“Not a problem.”
“Does it feel good to be home?”
“Mmm.” I climbed into my couch bed and snuggled against my pillow. The sleeping pill was kicking in.
“Thanks again for letting me stay.”
“You bet.”
And with that, I fell asleep.
Chapter 16
I blinked a few times, confused. Where was I?
Couch. Home. Gideon. Surgery…the last 24 hours filed into my memory like little marching soldiers.
I heard the clink of metal in the kitchen. Was Levi still putting groceries away? How long did it take?
My eyes opened a bit wider, wide enough to read the time on the wall clock. Half-past eight. I hadn’t slept this late in more than a week.
I sat up and peered into the kitchen.
Martha, not Levi, stood in the kitchen. A collection of apple peels sat in a pile to her left; her forearms flexed as she rolled out what had to be dough.
Curious, because I didn’t think I owned a rolling pin.
I swung my legs to the floor. “Good morning,” I said.
Martha nodded. “Morning.”
“What are you making?”
“Apple dumplings, hash browns, and sausage. For breakfast.”
As I came closer, I saw that she was using two aluminum cans duct-taped together as a rolling pin. “I’m sorry. My kitchen isn’t very well equipped.”
“Most English kitchens aren’t.”
“Well, my friend Gemma has about every kitchen tool known to man…” She’d probably be willing to loan some of them out, at least for a few days.
“Have you heard anything from the hospital?”
“My phone hasn’t rung. They said they’d call when he’s out of surgery.”
Martha nodded. I watched her. Her movements were jerky, her muscles taut. Dark circles had taken up residence beneath her eyes. In a moment, I understood. Making breakfast—a breakfast for nine that would be eaten by four—was her coping method.
And far be it for me to get in her way.
I heard a rustling from the direction of the study. I turned in time to see the door open and Levi emerge, face stubbled and hair mussed.
He gave a crooked smile. “Mornin’.”
“Hey.”
I was suddenly very aware that my pajamas didn’t match.
Martha turned. “Levi.”
“How’d you sleep, Mom?”
“Well enough.”
“Is Sara still sleeping?”
“She is.”
Levi turned back to me. “Mind if I use your shower?”
“Go right ahead,” I said, even as I considered my towel situation.
“I brought my own towel.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I lied. I could only hope I had two other clean towels for Martha and Sara. Even if I tried to run a quick load of laundry, my dryer took a good two hours to finish drying even a single towel.
Everyone froze when my phone rang. I dove for it, nearly tripping on my shag carpet. “Hello?” I was embarrassed to hear my voice shake as I answered.
The nurse on the other end of the line asked for Martha. I p
assed the phone over.
Martha held the cell phone awkwardly in her hand, but the awkwardness faded as she paid complete attention to the words coming from the tiny speaker.
“I will be right there,” she said, before ending the call.
Or trying to end the call. Levi reached over and helped her close the phone.
“He is just out of surgery,” she said, reaching for her apron strings and untying them. “He is well, the surgery went well. He is not awake, but we can see him.” She looked from me to Levi. “We can see him!”
Clearly, breakfast was forgotten.
I looked at Levi, hoping he wouldn’t miss the fact that I was unwashed, clad in mismatched pajamas, and not ready to be taken seriously by hospital staff.
“I’ll shower really quick, Mom, and drive you down.”
“And Sara?”
“Sara’s not awake yet.”
“She needs to be woken.”
“Even then, she’ll need to get dressed and put together. Jayne can drive her down.”
“Yes,” I chimed in. “I’ll drive her down shortly.”
“Okay.” Martha brushed the flour from her hands and walked back down the hall.
“Cereal?” Levi said.
“Cereal,” I agreed.
Levi showered while Martha woke Sara up, and then he took his mother to the hospital. I showered and dressed in clothes that matched.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Sara asked when she saw me.
“Yes,” I said warily, suddenly understanding what it would be like to have a teenager in the house.
“But it’s so…”
I raised my eyebrows.
“…dark.”
“You’re wearing a blue dress and a black apron.”
“Because I have to. You can wear anything you want, and you’re wearing a black sweater with jeans?”
“Gemma helped me pick out this sweater. It’s one of the most stylish things I own.”
Oops. Shouldn’t have said that. Sara’s eyes narrowed. “But…you’re English.”
“Yeah, well, just because someone’s English doesn’t mean they dress like they do in magazines.”
“But you live in Portland.”
“The Portland uniform is jeans, a sweatshirt, and Chacos.”
“What are Chacos?”
“They’re sandals…and beside the point. We need to meet up with your mom and Levi.”
Sara looked down. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you’re excited about being in the city, but your dad’s not out of the woods yet.”
“People have bypasses all the time, right?”
“Yes, but it’s still major surgery.”
“Do you think he’ll be okay?”
“If the doctors say the surgery went well, that’s a very good sign.”
“Okay.” She cast one more look toward me. “You don’t even have a printed scarf you could wear with that?”
I put my arm around her shoulders. “If your dad’s fine and we have time at some point, I’ll take you to Gemma’s closet. The two of you will be very happy together.”
I was afraid Sara would fall out of the car, her nosed pressed so hard to the glass as we drove up Terwilliger to get to the hospital.
“Do you want to stop by the gift shop on the way up?” I asked her. “We could pick up some flowers or a card or something.”
Sara shook her head. “Flowers? He wouldn’t know what to do with them.”
Okay, then. “When we get inside,” I said, deciding to broach the subject, “you need to tell the receptionist who you are.”
Sara frowned. “I have to talk to them?”
“Yes, you do. Tell them you’re Gideon’s daughter and ask to see him.”
“Can’t you ask?”
“I’m not a relative.”
“Oh.”
“Technically, I should wait in the sitting area for you.”
“I’m not going alone!”
“I didn’t think so. That’s why you have to talk.”
Sara sulked for a little while, but when we reached the desk, she gave a concise speech to the receptionist that included the importance of my presence.
The receptionist nodded and directed us to Gideon’s room. Our feet quickened when we saw Levi waiting outside.
“Is Martha inside?” I asked, pulling off my jacket.
He nodded. “Sorry,” he said in a whisper. “I’m trying to keep a low profile.”
I pressed my lips shut and followed Sara into the room.
Martha sat beside the bed, holding Gideon’s hand. His eyes opened wider when he saw me.
“Ah,” he said. “Jayne’s here.”
Martha patted his hand. “She’s been very kind, letting us stay with her.”
“Sit down, Jayne,” he said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the bed.
I sat.
“The doctors tell me that if I had gotten to the hospital just a little later, my heart would have died. But it was not God’s will that I die yet. He sent you to call the ambulance. Thank you.”
I nodded, a stab of guilt piercing my heart. He might have had even more time, had I not been eating ice cream and kissing his son. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “I don’t know that I’m feeling better. I’m full of needles. But at least I can breathe, right?”
“We’re glad you can breathe,” Martha echoed.
I checked her grip on his hand—her knuckles were white. It must have terrified her, seeing her husband so close to death.
I thought of Levi outside the door. “I’m glad you’re still here with your family.” I tried to think of something clever I might say about second chances and reconciliation, but everything sounded as though it belonged on an inspirational billboard.
A shadow passed over Gideon’s face. Maybe I hadn’t needed to say anything after all.
While Sara and Martha kept Gideon company and Levi brooded outside, I excused myself to make a phone call.
The mention of Gemma’s closet had made me think of Gemma’s other talents. Namely, completing meal preparation without setting the kitchen on fire. At some point, members of the Burkholder clan would have to eat, and I didn’t know how they would respond to Chinese takeout or the concept of beef-a-roni.
“Wow,” Gemma said when we connected. “This is the clearest the line has been since you’ve been gone. I don’t know what part of the field you’re in, but remember it, will you?”
“Um, well, I’m not in Albany any more.”
“Oh? Where are you?”
“OHSU.”
“What! Why? Are you okay?”
“It’s not me. Gideon had a heart attack, but listen. He had to come up here to have bypass surgery, and now I have three people staying in my apartment who can’t live off crackers.”
“Any vegetarians?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Any food allergies?”
“None that I’m aware of.”
“How many people?”
“Four, including me.”
“Four?” Gemma checked.
“Martha, Sara, me…and Levi.”
“Levi’s there?”
“Gem—”
“Levi, you kissed him, Levi?”
“There just aren’t a whole lot of Levis in this world. Yes, same one.”
“He’s staying in your apartment?”
“In the study.”
“Oh, that’s kind of cute.”
“Not helping!”
“Right. How about if I bring over some food from the restaurant?”
My shoulders relaxed. “Have I told you you’re fantastic?”
“Not in the last ten minutes.”
“Feel free to invite yourself over. Sara will want to analyze your outfit.”
“I would, but I have study tonight.”
“Oh.” Study as in Bible study. “Well, have fun with that.”
“I will. H
ave you talked to Shane recently?”
“I haven’t.”
“Just wondering. See you tonight?”
“Tonight,” I agreed, and hung up.
Shane. Shane, Shane, Shane. Didn’t know what to do with Shane. Didn’t know what to do about Shane. I wanted to talk to him—well, catch up at least. But I didn’t particularly want him to know I was back in town or to know I had houseguests.
If only I hadn’t kissed Levi.
If only I could kiss him again.
“Everything okay?” Levi asked when I returned.
“Yeah. I just secured us food for tonight.”
“You didn’t need to do that. I can cook.”
“You can cook? Like what, toast?”
“Pasta. Jambalaya. Chicken Cordon Bleu.”
“I’m impressed. I thought most bachelors ate noodles with butter and salt.”
“I do that too.”
“No poor-person pasta tonight. My friend Gemma is either cooking or bringing food from her family’s restaurant. Either way, we’ll eat well.”
“You have good friends.”
“I do.”
“Holding up okay? It was a late night.”
“You’re asking me? It’s your dad hooked up to the machines in there. How are you?”
Levi sighed.
I gave him a sad smile. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”
Gemma arrived promptly at six thirty that night, and I wondered if she’d kicked up her wardrobe a bit to make up for not staying. Despite the fact that she was carrying an armload of casserole dishes, Sara studied her ensemble from head to toe.
It doesn’t hurt that Gemma’s half-French, half-Italian, and wholly striking.
“Whatcha got there?”
“Rosemary chicken lasagna, rolls, salad, soup from the restaurant—”
“What kind?”
“Italian Wedding, I think. Maybe potato and leek.”
“I confuse the two all the time.”
“I just had Niko throw some into a container. I wasn’t involved in the soup choosing.”
“If it’s good enough for your brother, it’s good enough for the rest of us.” I turned to my houseguests, assembled as they were in the dining alcove. “This is my dear friend Gemma. Gemma, this is Martha, her daughter Sara, and her son Levi.”
“Good to meet you,” she said, possibly paying more attention to Levi than Martha or Sara. “Let me get the food and get out of your way.”
Plain Jayne Page 13
