Wednesday morning, William showed me how to ring up a purchase. To William’s consternation, I insisted on writing notes for myself as I learned how to do batches and get the little cash tray to pop out on purpose rather than by accident. By the end of the teaching session, I could run through a purchase, a return, an exchange, and even a gift card without a hitch. I think William was disappointed.
Trickier, though, was the fact that now I was working with the customers. Before, my work conversations were between me and stacks of books. Now, William wanted me to chat with people.
“If someone comes in and says they want something thoughtful, moving, and appropriate for a plane ride, what would you suggest?”
I hesitated. I’d never ridden on a plane. What sorts of books did people read when they traveled?
William shook his head. “No, you can’t freeze up like that. Have you been keeping up with the new releases?”
“Not lately,” I hedged. Between work and projects, I hadn’t had much reading time lately.
“We’ll have to fix that. I’ll send you home with a stack to preview. You can’t recommend books blind. Maybe they do that in larger stores, but not at Cameron’s. If someone’s looking for something to read on a trip, ask where she’s going. Asia? Suggest The Last Chinese Chef. Or if she reads nonfiction only, as some people do, Three Cups of Tea is a solid suggestion.”
“A clichéd suggestion.” Zach called from across the room.
“People buy clichéd suggestions,” William called back. “That’s why Dan Brown has a job.”
“Touché,” Zach replied without looking up.
“No one expects you to have read everything in the bookstore,” William began again.
“Except you,” Zach threw over his shoulder. “Just saying.”
William rolled his eyes. “It’s smart to be versed in what we stock.”
“I do read,” I said, feeling the need to defend myself.
“I didn’t say you didn’t read. I just need you to read lots of different things. Books by someone besides Stephanie Meyer.”
“Fine.” I resisted the urge to cross my arms. It was just as well that I didn’t know who Stephanie Meyer was. “Just give me a stack. I’ll read whatever you want.” Now that I had the power of the register, I wasn’t going to let William’s opinion of my reading habits stop me.
William didn’t need any more encouragements. “Try this one,” he said, grabbing a book from the front display table. “This one,” he said as he chose another, “got a good review in Publishers Weekly, this one is being filmed, this one…” he flipped the book over and scanned the back. “Actually, I hated this one. Never mind. But this one,” he picked up the one next to it. “This one wasn’t bad. Actually pretty good, if you don’t mind a bit of Nietzsche-esque fatalism.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, I nodded and reached out for the growing stack of volumes William held.
“Take a week for those,” he said. “I’ll give you another stack next week.”
Could I finish a skirt by hand, read a stack of books, and sound like I knew what I was doing during my Art Institute interview, all in one week? Thank goodness I enjoyed a challenge.
“Is everything okay?” I asked Jayne as she drove me home.
“Hmm? Yeah. Fine. Everything’s fine.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Completely fine. Want to drive with Levi tonight? He’s coming over for dinner.”
“That sounds good. So…how are things with you? And Levi. Together.” I winced. “My family dated by climbing through windows. I’m not very good at asking about relationships, but I’ve heard that English women talk about them a lot.”
“If by English women, you mean Gemma, Kim, and Joely, then yes, we do like to talk about relationships. At least everyone else’s.” Jayne sighed. “There’s something to be said for windows. Less of an audience, fewer people wanting to know every detail.”
Jayne smiled. “Very good.”
“Are you going to get married?”
I waited as Jayne inhaled and then exhaled.
“I want to be with Levi, get old and wrinkly with him, and get fat with his babies. We’re engaged. I wear his ring. I love him, it’s just…” she sighed. “The idea of marriage still terrifies me.”
“Really?” The thought surprised me. But then, very few Amish girls didn’t marry.
“Some days I’m fine. Other days…I spent most of my life never wanting to marry, barely able to have anything resembling a long-term relationship. Old habits die hard, you know?”
“You’re not going to break up with him, are you?”
Jayne shook her head. “No. We tried not being together. Not fun.” She shot me a smile. “It’s a process. Don’t worry about us.”
How could I not be worried? Levi was the only sibling I saw anymore, and Jayne was my closest friend.
“Stop worrying,” Jayne said.
I sat back into the seat and took deep breath. “I’ll try.”
My efforts continued until we reached the apartment.
Jayne pushed her key into the lock above the doorknob. “You’re still worrying.”
My shoulders slumped. “I’ll try harder, really, I—”
I stopped talking. Levi stood at the kitchen table, grinning. His hands rested on an electric sewing machine.
“Surprise!” Jayne clapped me on the back. “Are you surprised?”
I had no words.
Jayne frowned. “Are you happy?”
“I think she’s working on it,” Levi said, coming around from the table to sling his arm over my shoulders. “What do you think?’
I patted his arm absently. “There’s a sewing machine on the table.”
“True.”
“It’s an electric machine.”
“All the rage with the hep kids these days.”
“And it’s…” I tilted my head. “On the kitchen table.”
Jayne gave a small smile. “We didn’t know where you wanted it.”
My head whipped around. “It’s mine?”
“You didn’t think I was really going to start sewing those quilt squares together, did you?” Jayne put a hand on her hip. “It’s all yours. Don’t you dare sew that skirt by hand.”
“But…” I leaned over to examine the machine. It read Janome on the side. I looked at a switch on the side and flipped it without thinking. A small light bulb burst into life. I leapt back. “It has a light!”
Jayne swatted Levi on the chest. “You shouldn’t have plugged it in.”
“The light comes on only when it’s plugged in. I thought she’d be impressed with it.” Levi lifted an eyebrow and turned to me. “Are you impressed?”
Rather than respond, I crouched down and investigated the pedal. I figured that depressing the pedal would start up an electric machine just like it would a treadle machine. I gingerly reached out with a finger and…
The machine roared to life. The instantaneous reaction startled me so much I smacked my head against the table as I fell backward. “It’s…alive!”
Jayne and Levi didn’t stop laughing for twenty minutes.
“I’m serious,” Jayne told everyone Friday night. “She said, ‘it’s alive!’”
I nodded. “After falling over.”
“Your head feels fine now, right?”
“Oh, it’s fine. You have to understand, treadle machines are very gentle.” I looked around at everyone. “They’re much slower.”
Gemma rubbed my back. “You’re adjusting so well. I’m glad you’re laughing at yourself. And glad only Jayne and Levi were there to witness. If it were my family, the story would be told at every future birthday, your wedding, and at the birth of each of your children.”
“The trade-off for eating well.” Kim reached for one of Gemma’s crostinis. “These are good, by the way.”
“My brother gave me the idea. So, Jayne, you’re the master of ceremonies—remind me what we’re watching?”
“West Side Story, West Bank Story, and Toy Story. Next week, I’m thinking about a couple Pixar shorts, White Christmas, and Elf.”
Kim frowned. “No It’s a Wonderful Life?”
“We will, but I was saving it for Christmas Day.”
Joely shook her head. “Can’t believe it’s the Christmas season already. Fall just flew by.” She stretched her legs out and propped her arms behind her head. “I should probably think about my Christmas shopping.”
I leaned forward. “Christmas shopping? How does that work?”
Everyone looked at each other. Gemma spoke first. “How do the Amish celebrate Christmas?”
“Well…” I had to think for a moment. How could I explain something I’d always taken for granted? “Christmas Day itself is very solemn I suppose, as we think about the birth of Christ. The day after is for visiting family, seeing friends…we eat a large meal and celebrate together.”
“Do you exchange gifts on Christmas?” Jayne asked.
I nodded. “We do, but not until the day after Christmas. Small gifts, usually. Nothing fancy. It’s a simple time,” I said with a shrug. “Like everything else Amish. The children do have a school program that everyone enjoys. They give recitations, sing songs…” I felt pricks of tears sting my eyes. Leah, Samuel, and Elizabeth would be participating. For the first time, I wouldn’t be there to see them. Did they miss me?
Gemma reached over and rubbed my back. I blinked back tears and looked away.
“So no Santa Claus?” Joely asked.
I shook my head. “Santa Claus is for Englischers who don’t want to pay attention to the Christ child.”
“And Christmas lights?”
“A little difficult without active electricity.”
“Perfect!” Joely clapped her hands together. “Go get your coat—we’re going for a ride.”
“But…the movies…” Jayne looked around, bewildered.
“Hello? Christmas lights? We’ll go near downtown, drive up Northwest Twenty-Third, look at the huge houses all lit up, hit Peacock Lane…”
Levi stood. “Sounds good. We can all fit in my truck.”
“But…” Jayne’s expression deflated. “The movies…”
“We’ll watch them after. No reason we can’t do both. And we can pick up hot chocolate on the way back.” Levi retrieved his jacket from the coat closet. “Sounds like fun.”
“Hot chocolate.” Gemma’s eyes glazed over. “Hot chocolate from Moonstruck.”
I looked around for my shoes and found them under the couch. “Looks like we’ve got an itinerary,” I said, though I would only admit to myself how uninterested I was. I may be fancy now, but I was raised to believe that Christmas was about the birth of Christ, not lights and decorations.
With a reluctant heart, I joined everyone as they piled into Levi’s pickup. Jayne sat in the middle of the bench seat in the front, snuggled against Levi. Gemma sat next to her in the front, while Kim, Joely, and I squeezed into the backseat of the extended cab.
Jayne brought a Christmas CD from the apartment and fed it into the truck’s CD player. Ella Fitzgerald—whose music I had learned about a few months prior—began singing about a sleigh ride, and everyone else sang along, even when Ella said “giddyap” and it made no sense to me.
I realized I was cranky.
I just wasn’t sure what the fuss was about. I had seen some lights around town, lights strung in trees and around the edges of windows and rooflines. The logic of the lights eluded me. Some lights looked like icicles and blinked in spots. Didn’t people know that icicles don’t blink? Or they’d cover just the front of a house. That made no sense, because icicles grow from all sorts of ledges, all around homes and barns. When we visited our cousins in Ohio, I’d seen them.
I felt the same about blue icicle lights. Icicles weren’t blue.
The other Christmas lights that didn’t make sense were the deer-shaped things on people’s roofs. How did the deer get on the roof? Why would they go on to a roof—it wasn’t as if any sort of food was up there, unless putting food on the roof was some kind of odd English tradition.
I stopped paying attention to the view from the window, but when we approached Peacock Lane, I couldn’t help but stare.
Kim tapped my arm. “This whole neighborhood has been decorating since the twenties. It’s pretty famous. There is free cocoa, but Gemma’s a cocoa snob.”
“Hey!” Gemma protested.
“It’s true.” Joely patted Gemma’s knee. “Just accept it.”
“Horsies!” Gemma pointed out the window. “Let’s go on one of the horse-drawn carriages!”
“We should! I did that a couple years ago when I had a boyfriend—I think the carriage was more fun than he was,” Kim said.
“What’s so fun about a carriage?” I asked.
Kim, Joely, and Gemma all looked at me blankly. “The horsies,” Gemma repeated. “The whole experience, the romance of it, taking things at a slower pace…but I suppose they’re not a novelty to you.”
Looking at Gemma, I realized how much they wanted the experience to be fun for me, fun for everyone, and how easily I could ruin it with my attitude.
“I’ve never been in a…white buggy,” I offered, observing the carriages that rattled by. “Let’s try.”
Gemma cheered as Levi parked and we prepared to walk toward the lights. I had to admit, they were beautiful. The houses were built in an older style, with pointed roofs and long lines. “What style of houses are they?” I asked Kim.
“Tudor,” she answered. “It’s a style of architecture based on the English Tudor period. It became popular again during the twenties.”
“I like it.”
“Me too.”
There were people everywhere, laughing, walking, talking. I watched as they looked at the houses, each lit, most with additional decorations in the yard—nativity scenes, electric snowmen, and turning trees.
I hugged my arms to myself. I may have been raised plain, but I wondered how I could have missed out on something so beautiful.
“There’s a carriage!” Jayne rapped on Levi’s arm. “Run up and save it for us!”
Levi gave a goofy grin and jogged toward the carriage. Moments later, we all piled inside.
A horse was a horse, a carriage a carriage, but time with friends—I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.