Preparing for my shopping day with Valerie made me almost as nervous as getting ready to go out with Josh. I looked carefully through my clothes, hoping she’d approve of what I wore. I put on the pink blouse with a pair of white shorts, and then stepped into the sandals. It felt funny going out with all of my toes showing.

I opened up my purse and felt for my new checkbook. Yesterday afternoon, Rachel had taken me to the bank to open an account, and she showed me how to deposit my first week’s pay. With her help, I wrote a check to my parents to go toward what I owed them for my clothes, and the rest was mine to do with as I pleased. It seemed like a vast sum of money.

Waiting at the front door, my thoughts strayed to what everyone at home would be doing right now. Services would be over and the Plain people of the district would be gathering together at the home of this week’s host, to have lunch and discuss the sermon.

And I was going to the mall.

Valerie pulled up and honked the horn. In the car I felt her watching me as I fastened my seat belt. “So,” she said. “Have you ever been to a mall before?” When I shook my head, she said, “Then where did you buy your clothes?”

“At a store near my house,” I said. “It’s called Walmart.”

There was a change in Valerie for just a moment, a little intake of breath, a subtle shift in expression. It was clear Walmart was not a desirable place to shop. I made a mental note.

We didn’t talk much for the rest of the drive. Valerie had the radio turned loud, and she drove with one hand hovering over the buttons, ready to change to a new song, often before the one we were listening to was over. Her shirt ended just above the waistband of her shorts, revealing a narrow slice of skin around her middle section, and her long blond hair flew about the open window.

We parked outside the mall, which was bigger than I had imagined. I knew that it was one building that held a lot of stores, but once I stepped inside I realized that it was like a town with a roof over it.

Valerie’s pace was fast and determined as we passed stores selling everything from toys to jewelry to shoes. One store sold only undergarments, and another only purses. Valerie walked right by several clothing stores without a glance before pulling me into one where loud music was playing. Inside, the walls were lined with racks of clothing, much fancier than what I had bought with my mother. Valerie stepped over to a rack of skirts and began to flick through them, sliding them past her, one by one, occasionally taking one out and holding it up to view more closely. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. At Walmart my mother had showed me what to try on. I stepped closer to the rack of silky-looking shirts and reached forward tentatively. “That’s cute,” Valerie said. The top was cluttered with flowery designs, and I realized that I didn’t know if I liked it or not. Valerie had moved on, and now stood before a rack of blue jeans. “Do you need jeans?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I already have a pair.”

Valerie made a snorting sound. “A pair?” she said. “You can’t have only one pair of jeans. I have, like, five pairs. And it still isn’t enough.”

I moved away from the shirts and started looking at the jeans, surprised to see how different they all were. Some had long billowy bottoms; others had pencil-thin legs. The shades varied from deep blue to the color of a December sky. I looked at one of the price tags and was shocked to see that the jeans cost over a hundred dollars. Suddenly my bank account didn’t seem so large. I was about to ask if all the clothes were this expensive when I saw that Valerie had already moved to a rack of dresses. A lavender one caught my eye, and I lifted it tentatively. It had embroidery around the neckline and hem, and looked like it would hang just above my knees. The price tag had a line through it with a less expensive number written by hand, a price I could afford.

“That’ll look good on you,” Valerie said. “You should try it on.” I followed her to a row of doors and stepped inside a room that was so small I could barely turn around in it. I took off my clothes, pulled the dress over my head, and looked in the mirror. The fabric was soft, and the dress clung to me in a pleasing way. I opened the fitting room door to show Valerie, who nodded firmly when she saw me. “You have to get it,” she said. It didn’t sound like I had a choice.

Back in my own clothes, I waited while Valerie stepped in and out of the fitting room, turning this way and that in each new outfit, scrutinizing herself in the mirrors set up to show several different views at once. Sometimes she asked my opinion, but more often she seemed to just be eyeing herself with criticism or approval.

When Valerie was ready, we stood in line at the cashier together. I wrote a check for the dress, figuring out how much money I had left and how little I could still afford to spend. Valerie was just getting started. I trailed after her from store to store, watching her try on shorts and tops and dresses. I was amazed at the way she navigated the mall, walking with confidence and surveying the array of choices each store offered. Every time we left a store and stepped into the main corridor of the mall, I was always a little surprised that there was no sun shining down or wind blowing my hair.

While I waited for Valerie to check out at one store, some small disks of color under the glass counter caught my eye. They looked like they belonged on a painter’s palette. I looked up to see Valerie watching me. “That’s eye shadow,” she said. Then she pointed to her own eyelids, brushed lightly with a pale blue color. “I know a place where they show you how to put makeup on. Do you want to go?”

I looked back down at the colors displayed beneath the glass. The girls in the magazines had painted eyelids, and so did Jess and Caroline. I had never thought about decorating my eyes, but suddenly it seemed necessary, something I couldn’t go another day without.

When I looked back up at Valerie, she wore an amused expression. “Come on,” she said. “The makeup lesson is free. You just have to pay for what you buy. It’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” I agreed, happy to follow Valerie to yet another store. Inside, I saw aisle after aisle of tubes and containers and tiny packets of color before Valerie led me to a counter, where we perched on high stools. “Are you here for a demonstration?” asked an older woman whose cheeks and eyelids were heavily tinted.

“For her, not me,” said Valerie. “And we’re starting from scratch here. She’s never worn makeup before.” I took a deep breath, the thrill of the unknown fluttering inside me.

The woman peered at me the way my grandfather looked at a piece of farm machinery before he bought it. Then she opened and closed drawers and set an array of brushes and tiny pots of color on the counter before me. “All right, then,” she said, her voice deep and throaty. “Let’s get started.”

For the next half hour I felt soft bristles tickle my skin, and listened to the woman explain how to choose colors for my eyelids, lips, and cheeks. She showed me techniques for spreading the color onto my skin so that it looked “natural,” as though it was normal to have blue eyelids or plum-colored lips. Sometimes Valerie chimed in, giving her opinion of a shade or pointing to a different color to try.

“What do you think now?” asked the woman, pointing to the mirror. I stared at my reflection and was surprised at the elegant girl who looked back. My cheeks were rose-tinted, as though I had been outdoors on a windy day. My eyelids were brushed from lashes to brow with a light shade of lavender, while a darker tint of purple formed a neat smudge across the crease of my lid. The mascara applied from a thin brush made my lashes look dark and luxurious. I could have stared at that fancy girl all day.

“So?” said Valerie. “Not too Amish, right?”

I forced myself away from my reflection. “Not at all.”

Valerie helped me decide what to buy, including a zipper bag to hold it all. The price was higher than I thought it would be, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to afford anything else today. But one more glance at my reflection in the mirror confirmed that it was worth it. I turned to Valerie. “Thanks,” I said. “I never thought I could look like this.”

“Well,” said Valerie, “I have to admit that you have a lot to work with.”

I looked down, feelings of pride swelling in me. It was wrong to be vain about my looks. But at that moment it felt just right.

“So, I think we’ve done enough damage for one day,” said Valerie, looking at our collection of bags. “Let’s get something to drink.” Minutes later, we were sitting at a table in a large food area, sipping cold drinks, our shopping bags on an empty chair beside us.

“You didn’t buy much,” said Valerie.

“I only got my first week’s pay yesterday,” I said. “And I still owe my parents for the clothes I bought at home.”

Valerie seemed to mull that over. “Okay, then. You’ll have to come back when you have more to spend.” I felt a little slice of disappointment that she hadn’t said we would come back together.

“So,” she continued, leaning forward, “what’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What’s your plan? Like, how long will you be here?”

“This is a summer job,” I said.

“Then what?”

Then I go back to the life I had before, I thought. The life I’d wanted to leave. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I said, “I’m not sure.”

“I don’t get it,” said Valerie, stirring her drink with a plastic straw. “So you just pop in for a while and live a totally new life, and then you go back to the old one?”

It did sound kind of silly when she said it like that. I tried to explain. “I met Mrs. Aster, and she was looking for a nanny, and I was looking to get away from home for a while. So it seemed to work out for both of us.”

Valerie nodded and leaned back in her chair. “And Josh?” she said. “Where is he in all this?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I just met him a week ago.”

Valerie looked thoughtful. “Well, this all seems to fit. You come here looking for something new, and that’s just what Josh has been doing.”

“He has?”

“Oh, yeah. This last year at school, it was like none of us were good enough for him anymore. He didn’t go out as much as he used to. He started hanging with a different group every few weeks, acting all aloof.” She paused and looked at me. “And then he finds you.”

“I don’t know Josh very well,” I said. “Everything’s still pretty new to me here.”

“Oh, he’ll like that,” she said. “He’ll want to be the big shot who shows you around. It’ll be one more reason why he’s not like the rest of us.”

I didn’t have time to think about what she meant, because just then two girls appeared at our table. They seemed to fall into Valerie’s arms, hugging her and talking too quickly for me to make out what they were saying. Valerie interrupted them, pointing to me. “Guys, this is Eliza,” she said. “She’s Amish.”

Heat pumped to my cheeks as the two girls turned to me with open curiosity. Valerie continued the introductions, pointing to a petite girl with dark curls framing a round face. “This is Jill,” she said, before turning to a taller girl with pale skin and long hair the color of polished copper. “And this is Carly.” I tried not to stare, but Carly had what appeared to be a small needle slicing through the edge of her eyebrow. Looking at it made me feel queasy.

“Really, Amish?” said Jill.

“Yes, really,” I said, turning away from Carly’s eyebrow. Searching for something light to say, I added, “I can show you my bonnet if you’d like.”

They all laughed, and I felt a little better. It was hard to be on display, but there was also something exhilarating about it.

“It’s her first time in a mall,” said Valerie.

“No way,” said Carly. “Did you buy anything?”

“A dress and some makeup,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“How was the party last night?” Valerie asked Carly.

“Fun,” said Carly. “I’m sorry you couldn’t come.”

Valerie looked at me as though we were in on a secret. Then she turned back to Carly. “I couldn’t come because I was out with Greg. And Eliza and Josh.”

Jill’s eyes widened at the mention of Josh’s name. “Yeah, you heard right,” said Valerie. “We got Josh out.”

Jill turned to me. “Nice move.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, but it seemed related to what Valerie had just told me about Josh.

“I know, right?” said Valerie. Then she started lifting out her purchases for Jill and Carly to admire. As I watched them, my thoughts returned to Josh.

Apparently he had a story, and Valerie thought I was a part of it.