by Amy Clipston
She moved to the window and pushed back the shade, taking in the beautiful scene of the waves crashing on the golden sand. When she was a child, Lindsay loved to come to this house and spend hours on the beach, building sand castles and body surfing in the salty water. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered those long hot days on the beach with Jessica, their parents, and the McCabes. Somehow it felt like another lifetime, and maybe it was since her life had changed so drastically after her parents died.
Lindsay yawned, and a wave of exhaustion crashed down on her. She glanced at the queen-sized bed and felt the urge to take a nap. She carefully removed her prayer covering and placed it on the dresser next to her comb and brush before she climbed onto the plush comforter displaying a beach scene and snuggled down into the pillow. Her mind raced with thoughts of her family back in Lancaster. She wondered how Rebecca was feeling. Her thoughts moved to the cadence of the waves crashing outside her window, and soon she fell asleep.
Lindsay’s eyes flew open and she glanced around the room, unsure of where she was for a moment. Memories of the past twenty-four hours flooded her, much like the surf pounding the beach below. Sitting up, she stretched and then turned to the digital clock, which read 5:30. With a gasp, she popped out of bed, grabbed her cookbook, and rushed toward the kitchen. She passed through the den and found Trisha lounging in the recliner, staring at an evening news commentator talking about a robbery at a convenience store in Norfolk.
“Hey, Lindsay-girl,” Trisha said with a weak smile. “Did you nap well?”
“Ya,” Lindsay said. She shook her head. “I mean, yes, I did sleep well. Thank you.”
Trisha’s eyes moved to the cookbook in Lindsay’s hands. “What do you have there?”
Lindsay held it up. “This is one of my aunt Rebecca’s favorite cookbooks. I thought I could pick out something nice for you and Frank, depending on what you have in the kitchen.”
Trisha gave an expression that was a mixture of surprise and amusement. “You were planning on cooking tonight?”
Lindsay nodded. “Of course I was. I didn’t expect you to cook in your condition.”
“I obviously can’t cook, but Frank went out to get us a pizza from your favorite place.” Trisha gestured toward the sofa next to her. “Have a seat. We haven’t had much time to talk yet.”
Lindsay lowered herself onto the sofa and placed the book on the coffee table. “You didn’t need to spend the money on pizza. I love to cook. Aunt Rebecca and my other aunts have taught me how to make some delicious meals, and eating out really is a waste of your hard-earned money. I’d be happy to cook every night.”
Trisha’s expression turned to surprise. “It isn’t necessary for you to cook every night, Lindsay. We’re used to getting takeout every now and again.”
Lindsay nodded, but she didn’t feel right letting Frank and Trisha spend the money at a restaurant when she could cook something healthier and less expensive at home. She wasn’t used to eating out much anymore, even though her parents also enjoyed eating out frequently.
“I’ll plan to cook tomorrow,” Lindsay finally said. “But I’ll have to see what you have in the kitchen first.”
“You do that.” Trisha yawned, cupping her hand to her mouth. “These painkillers are taking a lot out of me, and I can’t seem to get comfortable.” Biting her lip, she gingerly shifted her weight in the chair, wincing as she moved her injured leg.
Lindsay stood. “Do you need anything? A drink maybe? Or do you need help getting to the bathroom?”
Trisha shook her head. “Will you please sit down? I’m fine. Tell me what’s been going on with you.”
Lindsay dropped back onto the sofa. “What did you want to know?”
“How are things in Pennsylvania?” Trisha asked.
“Things are really good. Emma just started talking,” Lindsay said. “Rebecca just found out that she’s expecting another baby in January, so we’re really excited.” She reached up and touched her head. She bit back a gasp when she found it uncovered. She started to stand and then stopped. She knew Trisha wouldn’t understand why it was so important to her to wear it.
“Something wrong?” Trisha asked.
“I forgot to put my covering back on after my nap. I should go grab it or get a kerchief to wear.”
Trisha raised her eyebrows. “You can’t take it off in the house?”
“I’m not supposed to.”
“Oh, well, you don’t need to worry about it here, but if you’re uncomfortable, you can go get it.” Trisha smiled.
“It feels strange and almost uncomfortable not to wear it,” Lindsay said. “But I’ll be okay.” She’d become accustomed to keeping her head covered at all times. Therefore, it felt as if something was missing to not wear her covering.
“Do you have summer clothes to wear while you’re here?”
Trisha asked. “I’m sure you remember that it gets really hot and humid here. We’d all melt without central air conditioning.”
“Dresses like this are all I own.” Lindsay glanced down at her lap. “I gave all of my other clothes to Jessica.”
“It’s so much warmer here than Pennsylvania,” Trisha said. “I know you don’t have English clothes anymore, but you may feel more comfortable in something lighter. Why don’t you let me buy you some clothes to wear just while you’re here?”
“There’s no need to waste your money,” Lindsay said. “I’m comfortable in these clothes.”
“I don’t see it as wasting money, Lindsay. I want to do this for you as sort of a thank-you. You’re making such a sacrifice to be here with me, and I want you to be happy while you are here,” Trisha said. “I’ll have Frank take you out shopping. He has tomorrow off, so you two can go out for a little bit. I can make it on my own for an hour or two, as long as I visit the bathroom before you leave.”
“Are you sure?” Lindsay asked.
“Of course I am, sweetie. I want you to be comfortable while you’re here helping us out.” Trisha reached over and picked up her glass from the table beside her. “Oh, it’s empty. Would you get me some more ice water?”
“Of course.” Lindsay jumped up and carried the glass into the kitchen, where she flipped on the faucet.
“Honey, we use the water from the fridge,” Trisha called.
“Oh.” Lindsay turned toward the refrigerator, opened the door, and searched the shelf for a pitcher of water. She pushed aside a carton of milk and a container of orange juice but didn’t spot any water. Further down on the shelf, she found cans of soda, but no bottled water. “I’m sorry, Aunt Trisha, but I don’t see any water in the refrigerator.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Trisha called. “I didn’t mean a bottle of water. I meant from the tap on the front of the refrigerator—on the door.”
“Oh, that’s right.” The big, stainless steel refrigerator was a far cry from the propane refrigerator at home. Lindsay stared at the buttons and pushed one for water. She then placed the glass under the tap and pushed it back, causing water to squirt down, filling the glass. She grinned, wondering how excited Emma and Daniel Junior would be to see the water shoot out from the front of the refrigerator. For a brief moment, she contemplated how Daniel would feel about having a luxury like this, but she quickly shooed away the thought, knowing the bishop would never approve it.
“You okay?” Trisha asked.
“Yes,” Lindsay said with a little laugh, heading back to the den area. “I forgot.”
Trisha smiled as Lindsay handed her the glass. “Thank you.”
“Would it be okay if I set the table?” Lindsay asked.
Trisha sipped her drink and then waved off the question. “That’s not necessary. We’ll eat in here on paper plates.”
“Okay.” Lindsay glanced around the den area, remembering all of the times she’d eaten casually there with her parents, Jessica, and the McCabes.
Trisha sighed. “It will be more comfortable for me in the recliner. We still keep the snack
trays in the closet.” She pointed across the room. “Would you mind getting them out?”
Lindsay crossed to the closet and found a set of wooden snack trays jammed behind a curtain of bulky coats. She pulled three out, one at a time, and set them up in front of the sofa. She knew that Rebecca and Daniel would never consider eating in the den, except after church services when they had the benches set up and it was necessary in order to feed everyone. A grin formed on her lips when she thought about Frank’s arrival. She hadn’t had pizza in a long time.
After setting up the snack trays, Lindsay grabbed paper plates, forks, knives, and napkins from the kitchen and placed them on each of the little tables.
“Thank you,” Trisha said between sips of water. “Frank should be back any moment now.”
“What do you think he’ll want to drink?” Lindsay asked.
“Probably a soda,” Trisha said. “He loves his Coke and pizza.”
Lindsay went back into the kitchen and returned with a Coke for Frank and a can for herself.
The door opened, and Frank appeared, carrying a large pizza box. “Dinner is served!” He grinned at Lindsay. “I got your old favorite.”
“Sal’s Pizza?” Lindsay asked, and her stomach growled in response.
He tipped the box and she read the familiar logo. Sal’s was her father’s favorite place to eat on Friday nights. Memories washed over her, and she bit her bottom lip.
“Let’s eat!” He placed the box on the coffee table and opened the lid. Steam wafted up from the large pie dotted with pepperoni.
Lindsay’s stomach growled again from the delicious smell. She moved a wooden tray next to Trisha’s chair and then sat on the sofa. Bowing her head, she began to silently pray, thanking God for the delicious meal and asking for His healing hand to touch Trisha.
“Would it be okay if I offered a prayer?” Frank asked from across the room.
“Oh.” Lindsay glanced up and found Frank settling in a wing chair across the room.
“That would be nice,” Lindsay said with a smile. “Please do.”
“Okay.” Frank bowed his head, and Lindsay and Trisha followed suit. “We thank You, Lord, for bringing Lindsay to us. We also thank You for this delicious food and our time together again as a family. Please bless Trisha with a quick and easy recovery and watch over us, our family, and our friends. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen,” Lindsay whispered.
“All right,” Frank said, lifting his piece of pizza from his plate. “Grab a piece while it’s hot, Lindsay-girl.” He lifted the remote and flipped the channels, settling on the news, turning it down so that it was low enough to carry on a conversation.
“This pizza is heavenly,” Trisha said while leaning back in her chair and holding the pizza in one hand and her plate in the other. “Good choice, Frank.” She turned to Lindsay. “Go on and grab a piece before Frank and I eat it all.”
Lindsay slapped a large piece of pizza onto her paper plate and then sank into the sofa. She stared at the television and bit into the pizza, which was hot and delicious. She wondered if Matthew and Katie had ever had pizza this good.
“Thank you for getting Sal’s,” Lindsay said. “It’s wonderful. I wish my friends were here to have some.”
“You need to bring them here sometime to visit,” Frank said. “Then we can take them to Sal’s.”
“That’s a great idea,” Lindsay said with a grin. “I’ll have to tell them.”
“So, Frank,” Trisha began, “I was thinking you and Lindsay could go shopping tomorrow. I’ll be okay if you go for a quick trip.”
“Shopping?” Frank placed his Coke on the table. “Do we need groceries?”
“I think we’re okay for a few days with groceries,” Trisha said, wiping her mouth. “I think Lindsay needs some lighter clothes to wear. It gets awfully hot here, and I thought she might feel better in summer clothes.”
Lindsay nodded. “She’s right. I gave all of my casual clothes to my sister awhile ago.”
“I thought that if Lindsay goes for a walk on the beach, she might feel better in shorts and sandals than a heavy dress.” Trisha turned to Lindsay. “Also, you might feel more comfortable walking on the beach in English clothes since people might stare at you. You know how some people can be. But it’s only if you’re okay with dressing more casually. It’s up to you, Lindsay. You do what feels right for you, okay?”
“I see what you’re saying,” Lindsay said. She was thankful that Trisha was so understanding.
Frank nodded. “That makes sense.” He looked at Lindsay. “I’d be happy to take you out.”
“Maybe you can run to Lynnhaven Mall real quick tomorrow,” Trisha said. “Just be sure to help me to the bathroom before you leave.” She wagged her finger.
“Of course,” Frank said with a smile. He turned back to Lindsay. “Does that sound good?”
Lindsay shrugged. “Sure.” As she lifted her can of soda, she hoped she could find something decent to wear that was more appropriate for the hot weather. However, she also didn’t want to feel as if she were disappointing Rebecca.
Blueberry Muffins
½ cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten
1 cup milk
2 cups flour
4 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 cup blueberries
Cream butter and sugar. Add blueberries and egg, then milk and flour sifted with baking powder and salt. Bake in muffin tins at 350 degrees for 25 minutes.
10
Lindsay carried a large shopping bag from the Suburban into the beach house late the following morning. Frank followed close behind her with another couple bags. She had spent nearly two hours at the mall with Frank, searching for new clothes.
Walking into Lynnhaven Mall was almost surreal. Lindsay felt as if she’d stepped into a time machine and entered an alternate lifetime. In order to remain a little less conspicuous while shopping, she’d left her prayer covering home but still wore her hair in a tight bun. While she shopped, she’d felt eyes studying her, and she frequently spotted strangers staring at her.
As much as she hated to admit it, she realized Trisha had been right about getting clothes that looked more English. Yet, the shopping wasn’t as easy as Lindsay had hoped it would be. Picking out clothes had been a tedious chore.
Frank held open the door, and Lindsay stepped into the large family room. Sunlight flooded in from the large windows facing the beach, and the waves pounded the sand with a loud cadence that Lindsay was starting to get used to. The noise had lulled her to sleep last night, like a warm lullaby from her childhood. She decided that she needed to make time to go for a long walk on the beach when Trisha was settled and she could get away.
“You’re back,” Trisha called from the recliner. “Just in time to help me to the bathroom.”
“I’ll help you.” Frank moved past Lindsay and lifted Trisha from the chair with ease. “How are you feeling?” he asked, while carrying her toward the hallway. Instead of using the wheelchair as Lindsay did, Frank seemed to like carrying Trisha to the bathroom.
Lindsay flopped onto the sofa. Spreading her bags out beside her, she shook her head. While fashion was never her thing, she knew Jessica would’ve loved the opportunity to traipse through the mall in search of a new wardrobe. She heaved out a sigh while wondering how her sister was doing in New York City. She made a mental note to call her later.
She glanced toward the mantel across the room, opposite the large flat-screen television. Her eyes focused on a familiar family photo that she hadn’t noticed last night. She crossed the room, lifted the photograph, and studied it—the events of that evening coming back to her as if it had been only yesterday. The picture had been taken nearly five years ago at Frank’s company Christmas party. Posed with genuine smiles, her parents sat with Frank and Trisha while Lindsay and Jessica stood behind them, their hands on their parents’ shoulders.
Lindsay studied the photograph, memorizing her parents’ faces. She wished she could go back to that night and hear her mother’s laugh and touch her father’s hand just one more time.
“So, what did you buy?” Trisha asked, breaking Lindsay’s trance.
“Oh,” Lindsay said, placing the frame back onto the mantel. She found Trisha leaning back in the recliner, a curious expression on her face. Lindsay wondered how long Trisha had been back in the room. She crossed to the sofa and lifted one of the bags. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed that photo last night.”
“I’ve had that photo there for quite a while,” Trisha said. “If it upsets you, I can put it in my bedroom.”
“No, no.” Lindsay sank onto the sofa. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“I’m dying of curiosity,” Trisha said. “Frank told me that you picked out quite a bit at Penney’s.”
Lindsay pulled a stack of clothes from the bag. “I did find a few things, but it wasn’t easy.”
“What do you mean?” Trisha looked surprised.
“Clothes just aren’t my thing, I guess.” Lindsay held up a plain white blouse and then a dark blue jumper. “I would look out of place here wearing my Amish clothes, but I also didn’t feel comfortable buying typical English summer clothes either.”
“Oh.” Trisha smiled. “That jumper is cute. What else did you get?”
Lindsay held up two more jumpers, three plain blouses, and a plain skirt.
“Very nice.” Trisha nodded with approval. “It’s going to be very hot soon, so you might want to get something lighter too for those really humid days. Did you get any shorts or a bathing suit?”
Lindsay shook her head. “I haven’t worn pants or shorts outside of the house in so long that I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable wearing them. I only sleep in shorts sometimes, but I never wear them in public.”
