Susan entered the bakery to find the lunch line forming.
“It took longer than I expected,” Susan whispered, slipping behind the counter.
“Don’t forget your apron,” Laura said.
“Right. I almost forgot.” Susan looked down at the still unusual sight of polka dots down the front of her dress. She grabbed an apron and thoroughly washed and dried her hands before returning to the counter.
The next two hours both women worked steadily as customers came in for a simple lunch snack of their favorite pastries and coffee. As soon as one party left, Laura or Susan had to hurry out to bus the table for the next set of customers wanting a table.
Finally, just after two thirty, the rush died down.
Susan sat catching her breath as Laura poured two cups of coffee.
“We need a break!” Laura announced. “And we’d better take it while we can. Besides, I’m anxious to hear about your visit to Teresa’s.”
“The place they live in is awful,” Susan said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Of course, how would I? I’ve lived on the farm in the country all my life.”
“I imagine the country has its dumps too,” Laura said. “But they might not be near an Amish community. Now tell me, how are we to help Teresa?”
“I met her mother, Maurice. She’s still skeptical of any way this can work out well. I think she wanted Teresa to take up the baby’s father’s offer to abort the child, but Teresa knows better. As to how we can help, I’m afraid Teresa really wants me to find an Amish couple to take the baby. To my own shock, I agreed to at least write Mamm and Daett and have them ask around.”
“Do you think someone will step forward and take the child?”
“I really don’t. But how could I tell Teresa that? It would break her already hurting heart. But I had to offer to try. Everything went by so fast. Both Teresa and her mother were in tears. I just couldn’t walk out with the girl’s heart broken. She’s apparently seen stories about the Amish on TV and thinks that would give her child the perfect life she never had.”
“So the mother and daughter played on your emotions?”
Susan shrugged. “They got to my emotions all right, but I don’t know about playing. It seemed pretty genuine.”
“You do have to be careful, dear. We Englisha have our characters,” Laura said. “And I wouldn’t put much past people if they get their minds set on something.”
Susan wondered if perhaps she was being hoodwinked—acting like a country bumpkin who couldn’t see through the scam. She decided to trust Teresa’s story.
“I’m still going to write home,” Susan said, “and see if they know anybody from the community who wants to adopt. It’s a long shot because it’s not like everyone has a lack of children. The children are all wanted among the Amish—but wanted as Da Hah gives them. And that’s not usually through adoption.”
“I imagine that would be a good attitude to have if a person didn’t believe in birth control.”
Susan smiled at Laura’s bold words. The Englisha just came right out and said things.
“So Teresa and her mom will accept our help?”
“Yes.” Susan sipped her coffee. “I told Teresa’s mom about your offer to arrange and pay for a doctor’s visit for Teresa. She said we can stop in anytime and pick up Teresa for the appointment. They aren’t gone much, I guess.”
“I’ll make some calls and see what can be arranged. The sooner the better, I suppose. I didn’t get that good a look at the young woman, but I’d say she’s pretty far along.”
Susan nodded. “From how my sisters all looked, I’d say so too.”
“All the more reason to get her to a doctor right away. If Teresa wants to give the child up for adoption, the paperwork should be started. And there are plenty of people lined up to adopt. Finding a good, decent couple shouldn’t be hard at all.”
“She has her heart set on an Amish couple,” Susan reminded, turning to glance outside at the bustling traffic. How did such a dream as Teresa’s get planted in her head with this big city all around her? Perhaps the city made country life look so much better? Teresa made one giant leap and landed squarely in my life! Daett would say Da Hah was in such things. But is He? Yah, I will write the best letter I can, even believing the answer will probably be no. Surely no harm can come out of an attempt to help Teresa, she decided. Mamm and Daett won’t think ill of my helping an unwed mother. Nee, there is something else troubling, in the back of my mind but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“I think the girl will come around eventually,” Laura was saying. “Once we get her to the clinic and she gets into the flow of things, she’ll see the reality of the situation. Especially when she hears about all the local couples waiting for babies. Dreams tend to fit reality at the end. I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you.”
“Still, I have to write the letter,” Susan said. “I promised.”
“You do that.” Laura patted Susan on the arm and got up from the table. “Here comes Robby. I just saw him go past the window.”
“Robby?”
“He told me not to tell you,” Laura whispered. “He’s coming by to take you on another driving lesson.”
“You’re kidding! After what happened last time?”
“I don’t know about that,” Laura said. “I never heard the details. But whatever it was you put him through, he’s willing to take you out again.”
“But where?” Susan asked.
The door opened.
Laura said, “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”
Susan stood and stared at Robby. “You’re taking me driving?” she asked.
“I have evaluated my life,” he said, bowing low and sweeping his arm across his knees. “And I have decided the princess is worthy of my dedication and loyalty. Even unto death. Which, under the circumstances, may be the case.”
Laura laughed. “You two are the limit! Now scram before anyone sees your antics.”
Susan was suddenly cold all over. The traffic going past the window looked like missiles coming toward her, ready to crash into her.
“You ready?” Robby asked. “Let’s go!”
“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?” Susan asked, as they went out the door. “We’ll look at the car, and then you’ll back out and tell me it’s a joke.”
“It’s no joke. Really. I’m up for this.”
“So will it be in that park again?” Susan asked. “Because I don’t have the time to go all the way up there. I have a dinner date with Duane.”
“Then you’ll drive here in the city,” Robby said.
“I’ll kill you for sure.”
“I’m not worried.”
Susan thought about it. I can do this. I can do this! she repeated, hoping it would give her confidence. Driving was a great privilege, and she did want to learn. It really wasn’t that hard. It likely was mind over matter. After all, she could drive horses from on top of a wagon-load of hay and live to tell about it. Why was an Englisha automobile such a fearful thing?
Robby unlocked the door and motioned her inside. “Behind the wheel you go.”
Susan climbed in, now muttering softly, “I can do this. I can do this. Think horses. Think horses. Think horses.”
“Saying your prayers?” Robby asked as he climbed into the passenger side.
“Very funny,” she said.
“Actually, we might need prayer,” he said.
“Your seat belt,” she said, taking charge and snapping on her own. She would show him!
“Done,” he said. “Remember, it’s brake left. Gas right.”
“Shhh…” She put the vehicle into drive, her foot on the brake. “I’m thinking buggies and hay wagons right now. Leather reins and wind blowing across the fields with the hay-loaded wagon swaying under me.”
With that, Susan saw a space in the traffic and eased out, her fingers tight around the wheel. “Here we go!” she said hopefully. Think farm. Think farm and pulling left and pulling right. No backward jerks, just stomping the brakes, gently, and gas for forward. Think lines out and lines in. Feet not hands.
“There’s a light coming up,” Robby warned. “And it’s red.”
“I know…and I’m stopping.” Susan pressed the brake, seeing past the red light to the glare of the advancing sun toward the west.
How many times had she squinted into the sun to steer the horses at home, pulling into the exact position for the grain elevators? She had stopped many times with only inches separating the sides of the wagons.
“That was a nice, smooth stop,” Robby said. “You’re doing okay.”
“Thank you!”
“The light has turned green,” Robby said.
“I know.” Susan kept her eyes on the car in front of her and eased on the gas. It was a little like letting out the lines, only with a car you pushed them.
“Keep going straight,” Robby said. “Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad today.”
“Like that helps. It only takes one other car for me to have an accident.”
“Now turn left at the next light. You need the practice.”
Susan pushed the turn signal down as she slowed down.
“The light’s green,” she said, making the turn in one smooth motion.
There was a pothole ahead—like a groundhog hole the horses could get their hooves caught in, which wasn’t gut. She steered slightly to the left, missing the bump. She glanced at Robby. He was looking in the side mirror.
“You should have gone through the hole,” he said. “If we’d been on a four lane, swerving might throw you into the car beside you.”
“The horses could have caught their hooves,” she said, slowing for another light.
“Horses? What has that got to do with driving a car?”
“Tires. Horse hooves. Aren’t they about the same?”
“No, Susan! No.”
“Horse hooves break and car tires blow,” Susan continued, pressing her point.
“Just drive!” he commanded. “And you can fix tires. You can’t fix horse hooves. Remember that. Turn again.”
“Yah,” she agreed. “Horses have to be put down if they break a leg.”
“Enough with the horses already, okay? This is a car. Remember that.”
“It helps me drive,” Susan said, as a car horn blew behind her. She jumped.
“Slow down,” Robby said. “There’s another light ahead. And don’t worry, the honking horn wasn’t about you.”
“It’s green now,” she said, rattled. “What if it turns red?”
“The light turns yellow before it turns red.”
“It’s yellow now.”
“I know that, but you have time. Keep going.”
Susan saw the light disappearing over the top of the windshield glass, the color still yellow.
“You’re doing okay,” Robby said. “But that was cutting things a little close.”
From a distance behind them they heard the squeal of brakes followed by a dull thud of metal crashing.
“Oh no! Did I do that? Did I cause a wreck?” Susan gasped, stomping on the brakes, thrusting Robby forward as his body strained against the shoulder harness. “What did I do? I was driving carefully!” Susan asked, the words coming out in a rush.
“You didn’t do anything,” Robby said. “It wasn’t us. It was the guy behind us. He must have tried to make it through the light and got hit.”
Susan glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a car behind them, steam rolling out from under its hood. It had been knocked in the side by another vehicle coming from the cross street. An angry man was getting out the driver’s side of the car, his muffled shouting filling the street.
“It wasn’t us, and we didn’t see the accident,” Robby said. “You don’t really want to be involved in city accidents.”
“But we saw it happen. Perhaps the police will want to hear our story?”
“We saw it after it happened,” Robby said. “Even I wasn’t looking in the side-view mirror when they hit.”
“The light was still yellow when we went underneath,” she said. “I remember that much.”
“So you want to tell the officer that? Who says it was or wasn’t yellow for the other guy? See, you’d better leave those things to the people who can figure them out. You didn’t see him drive under the yellow light, so you really didn’t see anything. Besides, both drivers are out of their cars. No one was hurt.”
“Well, okay…I guess,” Susan said, removing her foot from the brake, preparing to move on.
“Wait! I’ll drive back,” Robby said. “This has been enough practicing for one day.”
“But we hardly started,” Susan complained.
“Even so, we’re finished for today,” Robby said.