A Plain & Fancy Christmas Read online

  On the phone with her parents right after her visit to the Kings, she presented a highly edited, bland version of the day, feeling bad that she was denying them the details they clearly craved. This was something she needed to mull over for a while, without allowing their feelings to muddy the waters. Before they could probe more closely about Ellie’s reactions, she told them that Rachel had a child, their granddaughter. Shock immediately turned into a thrilled fascination, and for the rest of the conversation they kept Ellie busy recalling every detail she could about little Katie.

  When Jason called this morning to suggest dinner with him tonight, it occurred to her that he might be the one to lend a sympathetic ear. Big mistake, she thought now, noting the mirth in his eyes, even as his laughter died down. The waitress looked at him curiously as she set two plates of sushi in front of them.

  “Oh, honey,” he said, smiling, “you can’t be Amish. Tough New York career girl wielding a pitchfork. Not you, Ellie, that’s not you.”

  She looked at him without amusement. “That’s not the point.”

  “Oh?” He picked up a piece of a complicated-looking sushi roll with his chopsticks. “What is the point?”

  “Jason, come on,” she said in exasperation. “I have a different identity than the one I grew up with. Don’t you think that might mess up your mind a little bit?”

  “I think the point is that you’re thirty years old, and it’s a little late for this. It might be good to know your background, for medical records and stuff. But it’s like finding out you were adopted. You don’t have to make it into a huge deal. You can just know it.”

  “Is that how you would handle it?” Such a simple approach. Could anyone actually do that, she wondered.

  He poured soy sauce into a small side dish while he considered her question. “Yes, definitely. I’d go take a look at them, like you did. If they weren’t people I could get along with, or if they were part of some weird group like this, then I’d take it in stride and move on.”

  “ ‘Move on.’ Just like that.” Ellie realized that moving on was what Jason did in every situation he had ever told her about, from his jobs to his friends, so why wouldn’t he do the same in this one? That’s who he was and what he did. She could never be as detached from people as he was, or from life generally.

  She pressed on, not sure why she was bothering to continue the conversation. “Remember there’s the other baby from that hospital, who’s also now a thirty-year-old woman. She’s the real child of my parents. What about her?”

  “Do you know for a fact she wants to get involved with your family?”

  Ellie shook her head. “Not at all. I haven’t heard from her since I went there. Although that was only two days ago.”

  He gestured with his chopsticks. “Well, then. She may have washed her hands of the whole thing.” He grinned. “Using cold water, of course. You know—the no-electricity thing.”

  He chuckled at his joke. Ellie regarded him in silence as it suddenly dawned on her that she simply didn’t like him very much.

  “Okay, okay, I shouldn’t have said that,” he conceded, reading her expression. “It’s just—what are you going to do? Convert? Why would anybody want to go back to living like some peasant in the Middle Ages? Can you even do that, convert to Amish, or however you’d say it?”

  “I don’t know.” Ellie pushed her mostly untouched plate away from her. She had lost interest in pursuing this with him any further. “I’ve got an early morning. We should get going.”

  He looked startled. “Hey, come on. You’ve got to give me some time to get adjusted to the idea. Let me sleep on it and we can talk about it again tomorrow.”

  Too little, too late, Ellie thought. Jason had shown his true colors before he had thought to hide them. She might not be in a serious relationship with this man, but whatever their relationship was, if she was going to be with him, he at least had to be a decent human being. She’d been trying to make Jason appear to be one, when he wasn’t. Simple, really. Pushing back her chair, she started toward the door.

  He put down some bills on the table and followed her. Outside on the street, he took her arm. “Ellie, don’t be angry. This is a lot to ask someone to take in. I promise to give it the gravitas it deserves. But don’t lose your sense of humor, okay?”

  “Sure, Jason, whatever you say.” She just wanted this evening to be over.

  “Come on,” he said with a smile, “I’ll hail you a buggy.”

  She stared at him. Then, without another word, she turned and strode in the direction of the subway station. Interesting, she thought, that without even trying, her Amish family had helped her face the truth about a relationship that had gone on in her life far too long.

  Chapter 12

  Rachel tried to ignore the stares from other passengers as she searched for an exit. She was used to being stared at by tourists back home, but here in New York, she seemed to stick out even more. Maybe, she thought, she was overly sensitive because this entire day was so unbearably nerve-wracking.

  The street outside was crowded. She saw a line of taxis by the curb and went to the first one. Settling inside, she ignored the curious stare of the driver in his rearview mirror and told him the address she now knew by heart. At times, the car crawled along in traffic, and she felt she was being enveloped by the humid air and car exhaust coming in through the open window. Then the taxi would pick up speed, and the streets went by at what seemed like breakneck speed, too fast for her to take in everything—or hardly anything.

  By the time they got to their destination, she had a headache. When she got out at the curb, she paused to stare at the enormous gray building before her. It took up much of the block and rose majestically, with columns beneath intricate carvings of faces and cherubs lining the façade. She found it strangely beautiful and a bit scary at the same time.

  “Miss?” The doorman was holding open the door for her.

  “Good morning.” She entered the dark, air-conditioned lobby, disconcerted by how cold it was after the July heat outside. “Thank you.”

  He was an older man in a gray uniform and hat. His eyes were kind. “How may I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Gilbert and Nina Lawrence, please.”

  He went behind a small desk. “Who may I say is calling?”

  “Please say it’s Rachel Yoder.”

  The doorman finished talking on a telephone and gestured toward the elevator. “Apt 11C. When you get out, make a right.”

  She thanked him and went toward the elevator. She had ridden in an elevator before, but not one as luxuriously appointed as this one, nor as fast. Her stomach seemed to flip over repeatedly as it ascended.

  Ringing the apartment’s doorbell, she thought she might actually be paralyzed with fright.

  The door started to swing wide, a woman’s voice speaking brightly before it was fully opened. “Welcome, Rach—” The name died in her throat as she took in the visitor before her.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  Rachel was confronted by a woman with short black and gray hair, wearing black cotton pants and a white tunic. Her mother. Rachel felt as if her heart had leaped out of her chest. This woman had the same dark eyes as Rachel’s, the same shaped face. A flash of recognition passed between them. This woman was a total stranger, but totally familiar to her. Suddenly, she understood why Ellie and Leah King had been frozen to their spots when they first met.

  “Nina, did you get the door?”

  A man’s voice filtered down the hallway, and Rachel heard his footsteps approach. He came up to stand behind his wife. Rachel saw he was a nice-looking man with thinning gray hair, dressed in khaki pants and a white shirt. When he reached the doorway, he stopped short and stared.

  “Oh, my,” he murmured. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Gil?” Nina Lawrence’s voice was unsteady. Suddenly recovering, she stretched out an arm to Rachel. “Please, forgive us. Come in. It’s just that you look … W
ell, I guess you know.”

  She put her hand on Rachel’s arm and Rachel saw that even their skin coloration was identical, not as fair as the rest of her family’s back in Lancaster. She allowed herself to be brought inside, trying to find words.

  “I’m glad to meet you,” she got out.

  “This is incredible,” Gil said. “I never dreamed …”

  “Come in, please,” Nina said. Words started tumbling out of her. “Ellie isn’t here today. She thought you might want to meet us without having her around. That it would be easier for you. Our other children are here to meet you. My daughter, A.J., brought her husband Steve, as well.”

  Rachel remembered the shopping bag she had brought and extended it to them. “This is for you. I made it.” She wished she didn’t feel so awkward.

  The woman’s face lit up. “Did you really? That was so nice of you.”

  They reached the end of the hall where Rachel saw a young woman and two tall men standing up in the living room. It was easy for Rachel to pick out which were the brother and sister. They looked exactly like her. And they regarded her with the same shocked fascination that she imagined was on her own face.

  Nick stepped forward and they shook hands. “Welcome. It’s quite a surprise and pleasure to meet you.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” A.J. shook her hand as well. She gestured toward the other man in the room without taking her eyes from Rachel’s face. “This is my husband, Steve.”

  He extended his hand. “I’m very glad to see you, Rachel.”

  Gil Lawrence joined them. “Why don’t we all sit down and get acquainted?”

  “Let me get something to drink for everybody,” Nina said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Rachel looked around the room, noting its rich-looking sofa and chairs, intricately worked lamps beneath large pleated shades, the enormous Oriental rug. She saw numerous paintings in groupings on the walls, and objects interspersed with books lining the bookshelves. So many things. Too many to look at.

  “Please make yourself comfortable.” Gil Lawrence led her to a club chair upholstered in a dark green silk, and gestured for her to sit down as the others settled in on the sofa. “We’re all somewhat tongue-tied, I think, but I’m sure we’ll get over it.”

  Rachel sat a bit stiffly on the edge of the chair’s thick cushion.

  “We’re also afraid of making idiots of ourselves,” Nick added, with a smile. “We wouldn’t want you to start out hating us.”

  “Or worse,” A.J. picked up his thread, “we don’t want to do anything that would offend you in some way. We aren’t exactly well-versed in Amish ways.”

  “You’re not going to offend me,” Rachel said. “Please don’t worry about such things.”

  Nina entered the room carrying a large silver tray laden with ice-filled glasses and a pitcher. As she set it down, she shook her head. “Rachel, it’s so strange. Coming in from the kitchen, I could have sworn that was A.J.’s voice. You even sound like her.” She looked from one girl to the other. “Like your sister.”

  Rachel shifted uncomfortably.

  “Okay, Mom, let’s not scare her too much.” A.J. picked up the pitcher and starting filling glasses.

  Nina set one of them down on a table beside Rachel. “I hope you drink iced tea … Is that okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  Nina retrieved the shopping bag Rachel had given her.

  “Our guest was kind enough to bring us a gift.” She smiled at Rachel as she extracted the bag’s contents. It was a small quilted pillow, white stitching in an intricate design over bright pieces of fabric. Rachel hadn’t had enough time to prepare anything bigger, but she was proud of the fine stitches and detailed work.

  “We do a great deal of quilting,” Rachel explained, “and I make quilts, bags, things like this. We sell them at a shop. It’s all mostly handmade.”

  “You made that by hand?” A.J. asked in disbelief.

  “It’s absolutely lovely.” Nina ran her fingers over the stitching. “Look at this. What beautiful work.” She passed it over to her husband for his inspection.

  Rachel saw they both looked genuinely impressed, but all she could think was that the pillow could not have been more out of place in this apartment. There was absolutely no spot, at least in this room, where it would look as if it belonged. Like her, she couldn’t help adding.

  “Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Gil said, setting the pillow down. “Rachel, would you like to tell us about your family in Pennsylvania, and we’ll tell you all about us?”

  Rachel took a deep breath, then began. “Well, my family has a dairy farm. After my husband died three years ago, my daughter and I went back to live there.”

  “Ellie told us about your husband. We’re very sorry,” Nick said.

  “She also mentioned that you have a daughter. Eleven years old, right?” A.J. asked.

  “You know what, everybody?” Nina interjected. “We’re throwing a lot at Rachel all at once. Let’s go into the dining room to have lunch and we can take this a little more slowly.”

  They got up and filed into the other room, Gil walking at Rachel’s side. “We have a great deal to talk about, don’t we?” he asked her. “So much for us to learn.”

  Rachel went through a set of French doors into the dining room, where she saw a long table set with gleaming dishes and vases of pink peonies, platters of food already set out along a buffet table against the far wall. She took in the heavy chandelier and drapes at the window, pulled open to let in the daylight.

  “Please sit here next to me,” Nina said, pulling out a chair for her. “If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll get it.”

  Rachel appreciated the kindness in her voice. These people, though—it was as if she knew them, but at the same time they were complete strangers, and she didn’t understand or like the feeling. They weren’t Amish, and knew nothing about her or her world. They might be her relatives but she had nothing in common with them.

  Gil had said they had a great deal to talk about. Rachel wasn’t actually so sure.

  Chapter 13

  Rachel and Sarah settled down into two chairs in Laura’s backyard, waiting for her to join them. The three sisters and their families had just finished having supper. Moses and Laura’s husband, Lonnie, were off talking together, the children scattered about, with those old enough to be on their own having gone off, out of sight, and the littlest ones playing several feet away. The early stages of sunset were painting the clouds pink. Without speaking, the women watched the sky, as darkness began to assert itself to end the August day.

  Laura came out of her house and made her way to them. She pulled a chair closer and sat down. They continued to watch the clouds, not speaking.

  Sarah broke the silence. “Your cherry pie is my favorite.”

  Rachel nodded, her eyes still on the sunset. “Not too sweet, but exactly sweet enough.”

  Laura accepted the compliment with a simple “Good.”

  “It’s almost time to go,” Sarah noted.

  “Hmmm,” said Rachel, relishing the last few minutes of this warm night and the treat of sitting quietly with her sisters in the fragrant night air.

  “Rachel,” Sarah went on, “that means it’s time to talk.” She gave her a meaningful look. “We heard the official story of your visit to New York. Now tell us the rest.”

  “Sarah, don’t make her go over it anymore if she doesn’t want to,” Laura interjected. “She’s already answered so many questions.”

  “Oh.” Sarah gave a dismissive wave. “Their names, and a little information about lunch. This is meeting her real parents! I want to know more.”

  Rachel sighed and answered in a whisper just loud enough for the women to hear. “As I said at supper, they were very nice. They did their best to make me feel at home. But I definitely didn’t. It would be impossible.”

  Sarah looked thoughtful. “Whether you like it or not, you still have a connection wi
th these people. How do you see yourself fitting in with them?”

  Rachel paused. “I’m not sure how I could. Fitting in—I don’t know what that means.”

  “It’s not as if she’s going to become one of them,” Laura remarked.

  “Of course not,” Rachel replied. “But I don’t know what the right thing is here. Those people are my family, too. Should I ignore them? Say, ‘okay, we met, and that’s all, thank you’? Maybe that’s what they’re going to say to me. They don’t have any idea what it means to be Amish.”

  “What about what Ellie wants?” Sarah asked.

  “I don’t know that, either. She really surprised me, not being at lunch yesterday. They said she was trying to make it easy for me, but I thought she would come to introduce me, maybe tell me more about the family.” She was silent for a moment. “Of course, I didn’t help her out when she came here. Maybe she was paying me back.”

  “You really don’t know what to think about her—or any of them, do you?” Sarah asked.

  Rachel shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “It will be fine, you’ll see,” Laura said.

  Rachel smiled at her youngest sister. “You always have the right attitude about things.”

  “I have faith.”

  They turned at the sound of more children approaching. Laura’s two daughters were talking and giggling with Katie as they came into view.

  “Time to get home. Katie,” Rachel called out to her daughter, “say good-bye to your cousins. It’s late.”

  The three women rounded up the children and walked toward the two buggies that would take the guests back to the King farm. Sarah’s and Laura’s husbands were visible through an open window, their heads bent close together over something in The Budget, the newspaper read by so many Amish families.

  “Moses,” Sarah called as they passed the window, “we’re ready to go when you are.”

  He glanced up and nodded at her, then resumed conferring with Lonnie.

  Sarah hoisted baby Christine on one hip. “Rachel, we haven’t helped you.”