Plain Jayne

by Hillary Manton Lodge

  He smiled. “Me too.”

  I couldn’t read the expression on his face. He seemed happy, but…guarded? Was that it? Hard to say.

  Sara gave him a hug. He ruffled her hair; she made a face. He looked around. “Smells good in here.”

  I gave a careful smile. “We made pie.”

  “What kind?”

  “Peach, apricot, and marionberry.” Sara tugged on his sleeve. “Take off your coat.”

  He began to shrug out of his jacket. “I don’t think I’ve had that before.”

  “It’s Jayne’s specialty.” Sara took the jacket and hung it up in the closet.

  I began to panic. What was I thinking, that he would walk into the apartment and I’d suddenly know what to say? In front of Sara? It was one thing to try to make amends with the man who could very well be the love of your life, but another thing entirely to do it with his sister in the room.

  Awkward.

  I jumped when the microwave timer went off. The pie was really done this time—we’d removed the foil ten minutes ago. I walked to the kitchen and started to pick up every hot pad I could find.

  “Sure you don’t want me to do that for you?” Levi asked. I turned in time to see the glimmer in his eye. I knew he was remembering the time I’d set the hot pad on fire at the farmhouse.

  I handed him my stash. “Be my guest.”

  He kept two and discarded the others. He beamed when he saw his name. “I don’t think anyone’s made me a pie with my name on it before.”

  I pulled out plates and forks. Sara frowned. “Doesn’t it need to cool for a while?”

  “I like my pie a bit runny,” Levi said. “Makes the fruit stand out.”

  He waited while I carved it into wedges; I handed him the first slice.

  “What, no ice cream?” he teased.

  “It’s not a perfect world.”

  He didn’t need to know that we’d essentially cleaned out my freezer with this pie.

  We took our dessert to the living room and sat down while it cooled on the plates.

  Sara ate hers with surprising speed before lifting a hand to her forehead. “Oh.”

  I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “I…I just got a headache all of a sudden.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s like a throbbing behind my forehead. It’s really bad.”

  Levi looked to me. “Jayne, do you have any painkillers?”

  Sara held up a hand. “No, I don’t want to take anything. I think I should just lie down.”

  With that, she got up, went into her bedroom, and closed the door.

  Levi leaned back. “And then there were two. She’s always been a terrible liar.”

  “What? How can you tell?”

  “Her ears move when she lies. Always have.” He looked out the front window. “It’s a gorgeous day outside. Want to go for a walk?”

  My hand itched to hold his. I dug it farther into my jacket pocket.

  “The position is a good one,” Levi said, as we walked under newly leafing trees. “I’ll be doing what I love. Pay’s all right. Certainly enough to where I can help pay for some of Sara’s living expenses while she’s starting out.”

  “I wouldn’t tell her that just yet. I think she’s liking independence.”

  “You think she’s doing okay?”

  “I do.” I recounted to him the spiritual conversation Sara and I had had the other night.

  Levi nodded. “I felt the way she did when I left. I’m glad she had you to talk to.”

  “Me?” I scoffed. “I’m the last person she should be talking to about spiritual matters.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve only recently gotten my life back on track. I spent too much time giving God the cold shoulder, pretending that if I didn’t believe He existed, He might leave me alone.”

  “Did He?”

  I snorted. “No.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Maybe this was my moment. I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Levi, I—”

  He held up his hand. “Jayne, before you say anything, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  “That night I left? I’m sorry. I handled things badly. I shouldn’t have left like that.”

  “You had every reason to.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I hurt you. You told me you loved me and I…I was afraid. And here I was thinking I was going to stop living out of fear. Look,” I said, trying to piece together a coherent thought. “I know I made a mess of things. Badly. Could you…forgive me?”

  “Of course.” His answer was immediate. He pointed to the right. “Let’s go this way,” he said, indicating a quiet alleyway.

  Fine with me. I hated feeling as though I were having this conversation with an audience.

  “What I’m trying to ask,” I said, starting again, “is if you’d be willing to start over. With me.”

  “Start over?”

  “Yes.”

  “All the way? Meet each other all over again?”

  “Start over from where I screwed things up.”

  He stopped and turned to face me. “I want to, but I need to know you’re not going to freak out on me again like that.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t promise I’m not going to get scared again.”

  “Will you at least talk about it with me when you do?”

  “Just don’t leave.”

  “I won’t.” He cupped my face.

  Not caring that we were standing in a Portland alleyway, Levi pulled me close and kissed me. Kissed me like a man who had lost his love and found her again.

  He pulled me closer when the kiss ended, as if he were afraid I’d slip away.

  “I missed you,” I whispered.

  “I missed you.”

  “You’ve driven me crazy for the longest time,” I said with a sigh.

  He stroked my hair. “Back at you. Ever since you rode away on your motorcycle.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He squeezed my hand. “Let’s go back and tell Sara she doesn’t need to have a headache anymore.”

  “Okay.”

  We walked back into the sunshine, hand in hand.

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Sara, Levi, and I watched from the window as the mail van parked to the side of the complex’s mailbox unit.

  “Can you see anything?” Sara asked.

  Levi stretched to stand on his toes. I tried not to giggle. “No, he’s behind the unit. I can’t—wait.”

  “What?” I craned my neck.

  “Sorry, wrong box. Yours is the one in the middle, right?”

  “One of, yes.”

  “He stuffed something into one of the end ones.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, guys, let’s back away from the window and check the mail like normal people.”

  Levi kept his eyes on the mail van. “I’m not normal.”

  Moments passed in silence. Finally, Sara straightened. “He’s gone. Let’s go.”

  We hurried down the stairs, probably annoying the downstairs neighbors in the process. I carried the mailbox key; Sara plucked it from my fingers. When we got down to the boxes, she unlocked the door while Levi made an adept grab for the contents.

  “Envelope from Portland Community College?” Levi fanned his face with the envelope in question.

  Sara squealed and snatched the envelope from him before carefully tearing along the top fold to open it.

  I crossed my arms. “The Apocalypse is ever nearer, Sara. Just open the thing.”

  “I don’t want to tear anything that’s inside.”

  I looked to Levi. “Just think. If today weren’t Saturday, we would have missed this.”

  Sara awarded my sarcasm with an elbow to the ribs. In the time she’d spent living with me, she’d certainly learned to fend for herself.

  She grinned. “I passed. I got it.
I got my GED!”

  Levi wrapped her in a bear hug. “I knew you could!”

  “Let me see!” I managed to pry the letter from her fingers. “You scored well too.”

  She nodded. “It’ll help with my entrance to the Art Institute.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. “You should set up that entrance interview.”

  “I’m going to go call Gemma!”

  Levi and I watched as she ran back inside.

  “She did it.”

  I nodded. “I knew she could.”

  “And it’s design school from here.”

  “Yup.”

  “Does she ever talk about the family with you?”

  “Nope.”

  He exhaled. “I offered to take her to visit Grandma a couple weeks ago. She declined.”

  “Give her time. She’s still Plain in her heart, as much as she doesn’t want to be. I thought she’d cut her hair months ago.” I hugged my arms to myself. “I lost out on time with my dad. I hate to think of what she’ll miss.”

  “Not every story has a happy ending. I tried to make peace with him—it didn’t work. You were there. I don’t know that he’d treat her any different.”

  “God can change hearts.”

  “Yes, He can. My dad’s is particularly stubborn, though.”

  I made a face.

  “Until that time,” Levi continued, rubbing his thumb over my diamond-and-garnet engagement ring, “we’re her family.”

  I squeezed his hand. “People can change.”

  “Yes, they can.”

  “Sara passed.”

  “She did.”

  I looked up at him. “Let’s make her a pie.”

  The stories of Jane, Levi, the Burkholder family,

  and especially Sara continue in

  Simply Sara.

  Here’s a sample…

  Chapter 1

  With the letter still clutched in my hands—the letter that told me I had passed my GED examination—I walked to my room at Jayne’s apartment. My hands pushed the door closed; I sank against it.

  Me, Sara, an Amish woman, passed her GED. Not only passed, but scored highly. I allowed myself to feel a little pride.

  A little would not hurt.

  Instead of calling Gemma, Jayne’s friend and now mine, with the good news, I crossed the room, sat in my desk chair, and thought about what this GED meant.

  I knew without thinking too hard.

  I had to stop hiding.

  After moving to the big city of Portland, Oregon, six month ago, I worked with the singular purpose of earning my GED. My brother, Levi, got a job at a business and moved to the city shortly after I ran away from home.

  I don’t know why people say “ran away,” because for most people I don’t think there’s a lot of running involved. I think a lot of people take the bus. I hid in the trunk of Jayne’s car.

  She’s still not very happy about that. Says it wasn’t safe.

  It probably wasn’t. Maybe that’s why I’ve been extra safe ever since.

  I’m not the person I thought I would be after I left. I look in the mirror in Jayne’s bathroom (so funny that it’s called a bathroom, because Jayne’s apartment doesn’t even have a tub), and I think the person in the mirror is the same person who hid her fashion magazines underneath the floorboards.

  I know in my head I’m not the same person. I don’t even much know what I looked like before; I didn’t grow up with many mirrors. But the image in my head and the image in the mirror seem the same.

  The same, even though I have earned my GED and live in the city with my brother’s girlfriend.

  I must stop hiding. I must change.

  I want to find clothes I like, not just modern versions of the things I wore all my life. I want to learn to drive. I want to find a job so Levi can stop leaving money in my purse when he thinks I’m not looking. I want to apply for college.

  College. The idea makes me sit up straighter. I, Sara Burkholder, an un-baptized Amish girl, could go to college.

  “Of course you passed,” Gemma said when I called a few moments later. “Listen, do you have plans for dinner? It’s Saturday night—come on down to the restaurant this evening. We’re trying a new special.”

  Gemma’s parents’ restaurant tried new specials a lot. I think it was Gemma’s excuse to get everyone together and made sure we all ate properly. By telling us there was a new special, we felt a bit less like culinary charity cases.

  I told her I’d ask Jayne and promised I’d call her back shortly.

  “Gemma wants to feed us again,” I said, entering the living room.

  Jayne and Levi stood in the kitchen surrounded by mixing bowls, measuring cups, miscellaneous utensils, and a generous dusting of flour.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  They exchanged glances.

  “We’re making you a pie,” Jayne said, pushing her short dark hair behind one ear and leaving a trail of flour in the process.

  “Oh.” I brightened, and then I lifted the phone in my hand. “Gemma wants to feed us?”

  “Again?” Levi dusted his hands off. “Another special?”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Only if you can eat Italian food and pie.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll find a way.”

  Two of Jayne’s other friends met us at the restaurant—Kim, who also worked at the Oregonian with Jayne and Gemma, and Joely, a policewoman. Joely tugged on my braid. “How’s life, Ethel?”

  Ethel was her pet name for me. She thinks I’m an old soul.

  I gave her a hug, mainly because Joely isn’t a huggy person. “I passed my GED.”

  “I heard. Planning for college now?”

  “College.” I exhaled, mentally steadying myself. “Yes. But I would also like to find a job.”

  “Really?” Kim asked as she slid into the restaurant booth. “I may be able to help you with that.”

  Before I could answer, Gemma’s father arrived at the table with a steaming platter of appetizers. The conversation broke off and everyone dove in.

  “You guys are really quiet eaters,” Gemma said, a slice of crostini in her hand.

  “We’re chewing,” Levi answered. “With our mouths closed. Doesn’t lend itself to easy conversation.”

  “Italians don’t let a little chewing slow them down,” Gemma retorted. “You need to speed it up a bit. Talk, chew, swallow, and repeat.”

  “And repeat.” Jayne took a sip of her water. “Repeat, repeat, repeat.”

  “I never said my family wasn’t dinner and a show.” Gemma lifted her water glass. “A toast for Sara, to her courage and success.”

  Everyone else raised their glasses and clinked them around.

  It was sweet of Gemma to say so, but I didn’t feel that courageous. Or successful. Finishing my GED was like crossing a creek when I had a river ahead. Just thinking about it made me dizzy.

  But I had determined I wouldn’t hide anymore.

  “What are your plans?” Kim asked.

  “I need to start on my school applications,” I began. “I want to see more of Portland than Powell’s and Elephants Deli.”

  “Not a bad combo, though.”

  “And learn to drive. I would also like to find a job.”

  “Any particular kind of job?”

  “Something that would fit around a school schedule.”

  Kim pointed at me with her fork. “My mom’s cousin Rich owns a book-store. It’s pretty close to the Art Institute’s campus, and he’s always looking for good help. I’d be happy to introduce you.”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “A bookstore? Really?”

  “She’s been reading like crazy ever since I found her in the trunk of my car,” Jayne said.

  Levi elbowed her.

  “Well, it’s true!” Jayne protested. “I found her in the trunk of my car and she started reading everything I own.”

  “That’s a lot of books,” Kim said, smiling. “Anyway, I’d be h
appy to introduce you. We can go over tomorrow, if you’re available. We’ll just leave out the part about you and the trunk when we talk to Rich.”

  About the Author

  Hillary Manton Lodge graduated from the University of Oregon’s School of Journalism. When not working on her next novel, Hillary enjoys photography, art films, and discovering new restaurants. She and her husband, Danny, reside in the Pacific Northwest.

  Check out Hillary’s website at

  hillarymantonlodge.com

  Acknowledgments

  Writing acknowledgments for a book is hard. At least I think so.

  It takes a village to write a novel, and two villages to get it published.

  I couldn’t have written this book without my husband, Danny (who also took my fantastic author photo), whose calm suggestions helped me climb my way out of writer’s block. He knew I was a writer and married me anyway—that’s how great he is.

  Exceptional thanks to the people in my life as I began my writing journey—my parents, Scott and Ruyle Manton, who filled my childhood with books and stories. Thanks to my brother, Geoff, who keeps me laughing, and my sister, Susannah, who reads my chapters every week.

  Many huge thanks to my dear friend Kara Christensen, for reading aloud chapters with me and asking critical questions.

  Many thanks to Bobbie Christensen (mother of Kara), who took me to Oregon Christian Writers’ conferences, advocated for me, and introduced me to wonderful people like Kara Christensen and Bonnie Leon.

  Many thanks to Bonnie Leon, who read my manuscript when I was sixteen and told me I was “publishable,” helped me with my book proposals, and answered my questions about publishing houses.

  Many thanks to my parents-in-law, Ray and Denise Lodge, whose assistance with wood and coronary bypass knowledge proved invaluable.

  Thank you to my draft readers: my mom, my sister, Aimee, Diane, Rachel, Kara, and Bobbie.

  Many thanks to my agent, Sandra Bishop, for all of her help and encouragement, and to the Harvest House team as they’ve seen this project through. Kim and Carolyn—I couldn’t ask for better editors!