Only God knew why she wanted to stay—if there was a God. Skylar pushed all thoughts of God aside, an increasingly hard topic to ignore in a home such as this.
After everyone had left this morning, she walked to the community phone and called Jax. Her plan was to nonchalantly assure him who Quill was, and maybe she’d called because she needed to tell someone what she’d done to Ariana. But Jax told her about helping with a community outreach program for children today because it was Valentine’s Day. He asked if she was busy.
She’d quipped, “My social life looks like Arendelle after Elsa lost all control of her superpower, so of course I want to go.”
Jax’s laughter still had her smiling. He asked about Quill, and she clarified that he was a friend of Ariana’s.
Loud clatter and people talking drew Skylar from her thoughts.
The Brenneman women started flooding through the door. The men would put the carriages away, and with so many hands they would make short work of milking the cows.
Lovina spotted her and smiled. “This is not at all the condition we left this kitchen in. Thank you.”
“Not a problem.”
The family had gotten out the door late this morning, and the usual cleaning had not happened. The Amish had a few things right. Quietness mixed with hard work was good for the soul. Digging in the dirt and harvesting food for so many from a small plot of land was amazing, although she doubted she would be very inspired by it if she’d had to work the garden during the heat of the summer. Following her arrival last October, she had sat outside on church Sundays and watched the leaves change from green to red and orange and gold.
While Lovina removed her coat and winter bonnet, Skylar moved in closer and waited. Susie, Martha, Salome, and Ariana were busy hanging up their coats and bonnets and those belonging to the younger children. Skylar liked this part also. The chaos, the laughter, the constant sharing of tidbits of wisdom from the older generation to the younger one. Things like different ways to respond to an annoying sibling or why they shouldn’t play in their Sunday best.
But this life wasn’t for her. Those were the positives she’d uncovered while trying not to share her disrespect for the negative parts. This kind of family life was too simplistic. She felt children should be better educated. If they had a talent in sports or music or academia, they should be encouraged and supported in pursuing it. Her Englisch parents would fully agree with her on that. Then again, Skylar and all her peers had lived that go-for-it life, and it hadn’t worked out too well for her or many others. So maybe the Amish weren’t as wrong as she thought. What did she know? Seriously.
There was something clean and honest about staying focused on the inner person, accepting an old-fashioned job as a worthy goal, and valuing love over striving for the ever-elusive, ego-stroking self-fulfillment.
After her coat was removed, Salome cradled six-month-old Katie Ann in the nook of her arm, ready to nurse her. Ariana picked up a whiny Esther, cooing to her and kissing the top of her head while carrying her up the stairs.
Lovina put the last pair of winter gloves in the cubbyhole. “Is something on your mind?”
“Yeah, Jax will be here shortly to pick me up.”
Lovina’s eyes widened. “Jax?”
“You remember, the Englisch guy Abram roofed houses with. He picks up the groceries that Susie orders and delivers them to the café. Susie and Abram have mentioned him a lot.”
“Ach, ya, I remember now. You have a date?”
“No. We’re just going somewhere”
Lovina looked amused. “And on Valentine’s Day, but it’s not a date. Amish men usually avoid taking a girl even for a simple buggy ride home on Valentine’s Day unless the relationship means something. Is it different for the Englisch?”
“No. The same, I think, but I called him this morning and…” Skylar would never get used to answering so pointedly about simple matters.
“You walked to the community phone on a Sunday morning?” Lovina frowned, her stern-mother look in place as she put her hands on her hips. “Skylar.”
“How is that any different than me sleeping in or cleaning up the kitchen?”
“Sleeping is justified because the Sabbath is for resting. Dishes are allowed because we eat. But Sunday morning is God’s time.”
“Yeah, I can see that, because the guy with no beginning or ending is very particular about how those nanoseconds on His radar are spent by a girl He forgot to get to the right parents for twenty years. Makes perfect sense.”
Lovina’s face etched with hurt.
Skylar wanted to crawl under the piles of snow and not be seen until the spring thaw. “Sorry. It comes natural to dismantle what seem to be silly stances of faith, and statements like that make it easy, but it was rude, and I’m sorry.”
Lovina reached into the closet and gently removed Skylar’s coat. “Forgiven.” She smiled. “Maybe while you’re out with Jax, you should ask ‘the guy’ how you should spend your nanoseconds on this planet.” She held out the coat to her. “Because you holding a grudge about your raw deal in life is a waste of precious time.”
Different words but the same message Ariana had given her last week. Had the two been discussing Skylar? It sure sounded like it. She started to respond, but someone knocked, and she knew Jax was here. About twenty minutes early.
She stuffed down her sarcastic reply and opened the door. “Hi.” As she slid into her coat, Jax peered around her.
He waved, and Skylar took a step back to let him in. He held out his hand to Lovina. “Jackson Montgomery. You must be the mom.”
Lovina shook his hand. “Lovina, and, ya, I am. You’re the boy who’s friends with Abram.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lovina,” Skylar chided, “he’s not a boy. He’s served in the military, for crying out loud.”
Lovina’s face flushed pink, and she laughed. “Sorry, I just meant—”
“It’s okay.” Jax chuckled. “I wear Marvel Comics pj’s and have a room dedicated to model trains.”
Skylar hadn’t known either of those things.
“Hello?” Isaac had walked up behind Jax. “Can I help you?”
“Hi.” Jax held out his hand, looking friendly and unperturbed. “Jackson Montgomery.”
Isaac closed the door behind him. “And you’re here why?”
“Jax?” Susie called as footsteps clomped loudly on the stairs. “Is that you?” She rounded the corner, smiling. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Hey. Me either until Skylar called this morning. We’re going to that community service event I was telling you about.”
“Gut.” She nodded. “Sorry, I meant good.”
Jax grinned. “After all these months I know what gut means.”
“Daed,”—Susie took his coat—“this is the man who’s been delivering supplies to the café for the cost of a meal. I don’t know that Brennemans’ Perks would have survived without his help and Skylar’s know-how. He and Abram were friends before the café opened.”
“Ach, ya, good to meet you.”
“Same here. Is Abram around?”
“In the barn.”
“Well, I’ll see him tomorrow then. Skylar, you ready?”
“You’re going where?” Isaac asked.
“To a community benefit to give homeless children a little bit of a special Valentine’s Day. Their parents will be there too, but it’s geared toward the kids.”
“What will you do?” Isaac asked.
“Well…” Jax seemed to be searching for the right words. “We’ll serve food with a Valentine’s Day theme. The children will sing a few songs to their parents. We’ll play some games, and since for some reason the schools didn’t have their class parties last week, we’ll make sure the kids have those inexpensive Valentine’s Day cards to take to school, at least for those who go to school. Lots of them don’t, due to a lack of basic needs, like being able to bathe and such.”
Isaac stoo
d straight, using each foot to remove a boot from the other. “Sounds kind, but can I ask why Valentine’s Day even matters?”
“Most kids enjoy observances of special days. They get excited and look forward to whatever is going on—Halloween, Valentine’s Day, Christmas. But when they’re homeless, they just feel left out and hurt.” Jax shrugged. “So a group of former marines and their families are trying to make a difference for some of the homeless in our area.”
Isaac seemed confused by the notion. Unfortunately, Skylar also wondered why it mattered. Seemed like a silly holiday. No one was even off for it. Just another day.
Isaac set his boots to the side. “You’re in the military?”
“I was.”
Isaac stood straight, looking at Jax. “We don’t believe in war or fighting, but we know we’re safe because other people do believe in it. Thank you.”
Skylar couldn’t believe her ears.
Jackson nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“Do you have time to sit?” Susie asked.
“Maybe another time,” Jax said. “Skylar, we should probably go.”
Skylar told her family bye, and they left. After walking across the snow, he opened the door for her, and she climbed into his truck, noticing his cell in the console along with loose change, a receipt, and a bottle of red Gatorade. The seat was warm, and she assumed it had a heating device. She relaxed into it, realizing how much she missed having a vehicle. He went around and got in.
“You up for this?” He started his truck, pressed the clutch, and put it into gear.
“Sure. My dad does this kind of thing sometimes, helping out the less fortunate. I’ve lent a hand, often begrudgingly, to a few functions over the years, so I think I can be helpful.”
“Begrudgingly.” He chuckled. “Who admits to that, Skylar?”
“Just keeping it real.” If she had to repress every bit of who she was, she’d explode.
“I like that about you.” He shifted gears. “And I’m sorry for the overreaction to your question a couple of weeks back.”
“I know. Me too.”
“What you said was true, and I’ve been working on it for a while now. I just wasn’t ready for you to notice it.”
“If there’s one thing I’m particularly good at, it’s knowing what needs improvement in someone else’s life. I’ve only recently come to realize it, but I’m working on it. Air clear now?”
He nodded. “I’m surprised you called.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t kept things quite as real as you might think, and I need to talk to someone about it. There’s a house full of people and no one I can tell this to until I’m braced for the apocalypse.”
“Wow. Sounds serious.” He picked up his cell phone from the console. “Choose your favorite song or list.”
Didn’t he want to know what she’d done? She took the phone and was struck by how odd it felt to hold one again. She didn’t miss having a phone nearly as much as she’d thought she would. It was annoying and inconvenient not to have one, but she liked not being connected.
“It’s locked,” Jax said. “Needs six digits: 102715.”
She pressed the numbers, and his world unfolded in her hands. The screen had a background with the marine emblem and rows of icons, including apps for games, Amazon, a calculator, a camera, and e-mail. “Whoa, you have two thousand and fifty-two unopened e-mails and eight unanswered texts.”
“I ignore most e-mails, but I keep up with texts, so those probably came in while I was at your house. Could you read them to me?”
“You don’t mind?”
He snatched the phone. His quick motion startled her, and she burst into laughter. He gaped at her. “How dare you think of reading my personal stuff.” He mocked indignation.
“You’re very animated for a former marine.”
“Oh, just because in the ads on billboards and television we are straight faced and serious about our job, you think that defines who we are in social situations?”
“I guess I did.”
He held the phone toward her again. “Have you heard the Jeff Foxworthy bit about ‘here’s your sign’?”
“Who?” She looked through his favorite songs and was impressed. They liked a lot of the same music.
“Oh, tell me you did not just ask me who Jeff Foxworthy is. He’s a comedian, part of the Comedy Roundup channel on SiriusXM.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you, but we both know the answer.”
“You need some serious educating, Skylar. He has this bit he does about people saying stupid things, and then he says, ‘Here’s your sign.’ An example is this story he told about having the inside of his house repainted, and he had a grand piano in the corner, and the painter said, ‘Is that y’all’s piano?’ And Jeff said, ‘No, that’s our coffee table; it just has buckteeth. Here’s your sign.” ’
Skylar chuckled. “Okay, I get it. You’re passing me an imaginary sign because you asked me to read the texts, and I asked if you minded if I read them.”
“Exactly.” His laughter filled the cab, and when he finally stopped chuckling, he glanced at her and started laughing again.
“I’m going to remember this, and it’s not going to be pretty, trust me.” She pressed “Same Ol’ Mistakes” by Rihanna. The familiar beat moved through her veins, and she felt a bit of the old Skylar again, which was fun. And scary. Was fear the only reason she continued to give up all rights to her car, phone, and music while going with the flow of staying with the Brennemans?
Jax turned on a blinker. “Read the texts, Sky Blue. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Oh. Sorry. I was distracted by your song list.” She pressed the Home button. “But everybody has something to hide.”
“True. Everybody has personal stuff, and some of it’s really embarrassing. Not everyone feels a need to hide it from friends and family.”
“When I had to leave my phone at home, I made it so password protected that my parents would have needed the FBI to open it.”
“I’m sure some of that was drug related. Some of it is being twenty and not wanting your parents in your business.”
It was sort of nice to ride down the road with someone who knew the real her and accepted it without wanting to capitalize on it or make a big deal of it. It seemed as if she’d been the queen of picking guys who wanted to take advantage of her secret life, and her mom and dad made a big deal of drug use and bad boys, which was beginning to make sense.
She touched the icon for his texts. “The eight texts all appear to be from one person. Someone named Trixie.”
“She’s the leader for today’s event.”
Skylar touched the text, and it opened. She skimmed the lengthy messages and decided to summarize. “She sent apologies, hearts, smiley kisses, and promises to make it up to you, but she’s got the flu and is running a fever of 103 and can’t make it today.”
“She’s not going to be there?”
Skylar lowered the phone. “Here’s your sign.”
Jax laughed. “I deserved that, but you’re missing the gravity of this information. This isn’t good. At all. Not only does she run the whole program, but she’s been working with the children for a few weeks on the songs they’re going to sing to their parents. Do you have any idea how hard it is to coordinate practices for homeless children?”
“No, but we wouldn’t want all those practices to have been for nothing. Do you have a list of the songs they’ve been working on?”
“Yeah, somewhere in those two thousand unopened e-mails.”
“I’m sure I can do whatever is needed.”
“Really?”
“Your skepticism is disconcerting. You heard me play at the soup kitchen.”
“Knowing a song or two only means you know a song or two.”
“I grew up taking music and voice.” She touched the e-mail icon and began searching for messages from Trixie. “My dad is a professor of music, and if I hadn’t let boys and drugs throw me off trac
k, I’d be well on my way to having a degree from Carnegie Mellon, so, yeah, I definitely know enough to work with children on the spur of the moment.”
She was ready to do anything with music. But she hadn’t bought a keyboard yet. Since instruments were forbidden in the house, it would be problematic for the younger ones.
“Jackpot.” Skylar waved the phone near him. “One e-mail with two attachments: today’s agenda and the song list.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” She put her finger under some of the text in the e-mail. “It sounds as if the food is all taken care of except for serving it.”
“I hope so.”
“Trixie not coming has you a bit spooked, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I know my limits when it comes to volunteer work and children. I’m a helper, not a planner or a leader.”
“I’m not a leader either, unless it’s being the lead in musicals, but I know we can do this. Worst-case scenario we’ll make a food run and pick up hot dogs and chips.” She read over the song list. “Hey, Jax?”
He turned the volume down. “Yeah.”
“I doubt you’ll understand this since you’re a really nice guy, but the reason I called you is because I needed to tell you something.”
He looked from the road to her several times. “New or old news?”
“A few weeks old.”
“Then there’s no rush to share it now, and if it’s going to be something that’s likely to frustrate me, I’d rather wait. We have a long, busy afternoon ahead, and I’d like to enjoy and appreciate that your helping, not look at you and seethe.”
“I haven’t used drugs, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Good. It helps to know that. Still—”
“I got it. You don’t want fresh reasons to avoid me while we have to work together.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Change of subject. I stayed late at work the other day, and the boss walks in and says, ‘You’re still here?’ I said, ‘Nope, I left ten minutes ago. Here’s your sign.’ ”
Gathering the Threads Page 17
