My back must have been turned. Maybe Sonnet was standing in the way. All I knew was that one moment, I was talking to William, and the next, there were wrapped gifts in the middle of the living room.
I began shaking my head. “This…this is too much.”
Jayne shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. They’re just going to take up room on your floor unless you open them.”
William tapped my knee. “You heard her. Tear some paper for me.”
I followed instructions for once and knelt in front of the pile. From the corner of my eye, I could see Gemma passing out cupcakes. Zach helped.
The tag on the first gift read, “To Sara from Joely.”
Gifts from Jayne and Levi, that was one thing. A part of me wanted to tell everyone else that it was really, truly okay, I didn’t need anything—but I knew that particular conversation would be as fruitless as an apple tree in January.
Inside the bag, wrapped in tissue paper, I found pepper spray, a whistle, and a very heavy flashlight.
“It’s a Maglite,” Joely explained, looking satisfied with herself. “Part flashlight, part heavy object. Every woman should have one.”
“Thank you,” I said, wondering what she intended me to do with it. For better or for worse, I had been raised a pacifist. I wasn’t accustomed to hitting potential assailants with heavy objects. If that’s what she intended. Maybe it was supposed to be a paper weight or a doorstop. A doorstop that rolled.
I moved on to a large box with a tag that said it was from Gemma. I moved aside packaging peanuts to find a large stock pot, complete with fitted lid, a copper-bottomed frying pan with a lid, and a three-quart saucepan. I stared at them in disbelief.
“Before you get worried,” Gemma said, “remember that I can order kitchen things through the restaurant at a discount. I know Livy has a fair amount of her own kitchen things, but I thought you’d enjoy having your own proper kitchenware.”
I felt my eyes grow wet with tears but willed them away, partly because I didn’t want Joely to see me cry over Gemma’s gift when I hadn’t cried over hers.
A box from Kim revealed a Corningware baking dish set of a variety of sizes. “I don’t cook—you know that—but I’ve heard they’re really great for baking and casseroles and stuff,” she said, by way of explanation. “And I thought the white was nice.”
From Jayne, a large box and a gift bag. Inside the bag I found a boxed set of silverware, two more bath towels, two Pyrex measuring cups, and a set of baking measuring cups. “I need to know you’re eating,” she said with a smile.
“Though it’s probably Jayne we should be worried about,” Gemma said.
“Hey,” Jayne protested, eyebrow raised. “I can boil pasta with the best of them. Don’t slow down, Sara, you’ve still got some to go.”
I opened Jayne’s box to find a 30-piece set of dishes. “They’re from Fred Meyer. Nothing fancy, but I thought you’d like the pattern,” Jayne said.
I nodded, studying the picture on the box. The dishes were a creamy white with a lacy, scalloped pattern around the edge. Simple, but definitely not plain. “They’re beautiful,” I told her, humbled I had a friend, roommate, and future sister-in-law who, let’s face it, had friends who knew my taste and wanted to make sure I would go into the world prepared. “I can’t wait to eat off of them.”
“Last gift’s mine.” Levi took a huge bite of his cupcake. “These are good, Gemma.”
“You already brought me a quilt frame and a bookcase,” I protested, sitting back on my knees. “You should probably stop giving me things at some point.”
Levi couldn’t contain his smile. “I should. I’m mostly done—don’t worry.”
I reached into the oversized gift bag and began to pull out items. I found two baking sheets, and between them sat a rolling pin, a pin cover, a pastry cloth…The last bits I had difficulty grasping. I giggled when I realized what they were. “Pie and tart pans,” I said, holding one of each up for everyone to see. “A ceramic pie pan, a deep-dish glass pan, and a tart pan with a removable bottom.”
“A who what?” Zach asked. “That just sounds…wrong.”
“A tart. Pastry without a top, baked in a pan that serves as a mold. You can get the pastry out without destroying the shape if you use one with a removable bottom. I like to set a baked tart on top of a glass bowl that’s a bit smaller and work the edge part off. Does that make sense?”
A look at Zach’s face told me no.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll bring one into work sometime.” I looked to Gemma, Joely, Kim, and Jayne, and my brother. “Thank you,” I said, fearing my words were too simple.
Simple was all I had though. My heart was too full to say anything else.
After the gifts were opened and the food was eaten, people left in small groups as they moved on with their Saturday. Sonnet, Meg, and Britta left to work on their design projects, and I needed to work on mine as well. Kim, Gemma, and Joely left, and Zach rode with them in Kim’s car back to Jayne’s apartment.
“We should get the van back,” Levi said after my new home goods had been put away.
One glance at his expression told me he wanted Jayne with him. I didn’t blame him. I gave her a hug and thanked her yet again for my gifts, gratified when she gathered up her jacket and purse to leave with my brother.
Mission accomplished.
William gave me a look I couldn’t read and said he should leave as well, and he offered to drive the van back to Jayne’s apartment. With a strange reluctance I said goodbye to him as well, giving an awkward wave as the three drove off, Levi and Jayne in the truck and William in the van.
I watched from the window as the three drove away.
When I turned around, I fought the urge to run down the street after them. I was alone in the apartment.
I’d been alone before. I had. But I always knew that Jayne would be home—or I could drive somewhere, not that I did very often. But I didn’t have a car, and though I was trying to use MAX more often, the truth was that public transportation terrified me. I was happy to walk places, but aside from a small grocery store and a coffee shop, there wasn’t much to walk to.
More specifically, I think, there wasn’t anyone for me to walk toward. Jayne, Britta, Meg, Sonnet, Levi, everyone at the bookstore…They were only within walking distance if I didn’t mind walking for a very, very long time. And my family—well, I couldn’t even think about that.
One thing was certain though. If I didn’t want to sit around alone all of the time, I’d need a car. And before I could buy a car, I needed money.
Between class and making quilts to sell, I had a lot of sewing to do. Maybe I was alone, but there was work to be done.
Over the next several hours, I made all of my plans for my assignment and drew up a quilt design. The quilt was unlike something I would have necessarily made at home and closer to what English people expected Amish quilts to look like. Solid, bold colors, despite the fact that most everyone I knew at home enjoyed quilting with prints.
Whatever. I needed the quilt to sell, and sell fast. If quilting more “Amish” would make it sell, that’s what I was going to do.
I took a break for dinner, enjoying leftover lasagna, salad, and toast with butter. None of Livy’s things in the kitchen looked like a toaster, so I made the toast in the oven.
I tried watching Livy’s television but couldn’t figure out how to get the sound to come through. Rather than calling Levi to ask his advice, I put the remote down and went back to work, adding the details to my quilt design. After I bought fabric, I could complete the project without stopping to make adjustments.
I already had the fabric for my class project—a skirt with unique detail. I started in on the construction, making sure my edges and technique were perfect.
The sky grew dark as I worked. Unsatisfied with a seam, I ripped it back and meticulously did it over, pinning and pressing it before running a new line of stitches.
To my horror, I watched as the thread bunched up six inches in. I blinked, realizing my eyes were dry. I looked at my watch. It read 11:35.
How had it gotten so late? I removed the nearly mangled fabric and turned off the sewing machine before washing my face and preparing for bed. Levi had offered to pick me up for church the next morning.
I crawled into bed in my new room, turned off my bedside lamp, and waited for sleep to come.
It didn’t. Rather than sleep, I could only think about how I had never spent the night in a house or apartment alone. Every nighttime noise intensified. The apartment creaked as it cooled, sending my nerves on edge. I heard footsteps on the stairs and my neighbors’ doors slamming shut. An ambulance siren blared nearby and faded as quickly as it had come.
I turned over.
I was fine. I was safe. The door was locked and bolted
Maybe things would be better if I had a dog. I’d never had a dog, at least not one indoors with me. But I’d read books with female characters who had dogs, and Joely had told stories about women whose dogs had protected them until the police arrived. It seemed like something to consider, if only I lived in a place appropriate for a dog that would surely need exercise and a place to do its business.
I tried to pray. God seemed so quiet lately. I recited a Dutch prayer in my head before moving on to an awkward English prayer of my own.
I was cold. I thought about turning on the heater, but it was the kind that would continue to heat the room until I turned it off. I didn’t relish the idea of finally falling asleep and then waking up covered in sweat.
The thought of socks occurred to me, and with that thought a stray memory that maybe William’s socks just might be in one of the boxes we’d temporarily stored in my closet.
I switched on my lamp, climbed down from my lofted bed, and stumbled snoozily to my closet.
Nothing in the first box.
Nothing in the second box.
In the third box I found my old clothes, the ones I’d come to Portland in, a GED study guide, and finally, William’s socks.
He wouldn’t mind if I wore them again, I knew he wouldn’t. I could wash them again. I worried for a brief moment about overwashing and the knit fabric becoming threadbare before its time, but I reasoned that William was a bachelor and probably had plenty of socks so he wouldn’t have to do laundry too often.
I tugged the socks over my feet and padded back to bed.
The socks protected my toes from the chill, but I couldn’t stop hearing every noise that came from inside and out of the apartment. Had Jayne’s place been this noisy? Had I not paid attention because I knew she was nearby? I thought of the time she’d stormed into my room back home about a year ago. Had it really been so little time? A young man had been at my window, and I’d been preparing to leave with him. That was the way things worked in the Amish community.
But Jayne hadn’t known that, storming into my room in her nightclothes, armed with a shoe. I think it was a shoe. At any rate, the young man fled, fast. I felt bad for him, but in that moment I decided I truly liked Jayne, even if she was awkward and completely out of place in our plain world.
About as out of place as I was in her fancy one.
I snuggled deeper into the covers. Being English meant being independent. Being independent meant being able to be alone and get sleep at the same time. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.
And jumped when another siren roared by.
My phone was on the shelf next to my bed. I reached for it and dialed Levi’s number.
It didn’t even ring, but went straight to voicemail. I tried again, waiting until I heard his voice again reminding me to leave my number.
I didn’t. There wasn’t a reason to. He’d probably realize in the morning that his phone battery had died overnight.
My heart beat faster as I began to panic. I needed to hear someone’s voice.
My bedside clock glowed 12:16.
Before I realized what I was doing, I called William.