“How did your meeting go today?”
Wendy looked up from the canned chicken noodle soup she’d made for supper several minutes ago. Not exactly a gourmet meal, but it was enough. Her mother had said she wasn’t that hungry, and neither was Wendy. “Fine,” she said, blowing on her spoon. When she tasted the watery broth, she frowned.
“Kind of a disappointment, isn’t it?” Mom crumbled a few crackers into her bowl.
She set down the spoon and started to get up. “I’ll make something else.”
“Oh no, don’t do that.” She motioned for her to sit. “I wasn’t complaining. Just stating a fact. After having Charity’s homemade soups, canned doesn’t compare. But I don’t mind eating it.” She consumed a spoonful. “‘Mmm! Mmm! Good!’”
Wendy chuckled and sat back down. “This was my favorite soup as a kid.”
“I remember.” She touched Wendy’s hand. “If your meeting was fine, then what’s bothering you? Or am I overstepping my boundaries as a mother to an adult child?”
She hesitated. She was legally obligated not to discuss the Yoders’ business with anyone, including her mother, whom she completely trusted. Even if she wasn’t bound by lawyer-client privilege, she wouldn’t reveal what they had talked about anyway. But the conflict mediation with Barnabas and his daughters wasn’t what kept her at her office for the rest of the afternoon. “I’m thinking about closing my practice,” she finally said.
Mom dropped the two crackers she’d just picked up. “Really?”
“Yes.” She left her spoon in her bowl. Although she’d contemplated it more than once, this was the first time she’d voiced her thoughts out loud. “I don’t know who’s more surprised—me or you.”
“But you love being a lawyer. Ever since you were in junior high you wanted to go to law school. You achieved that dream and more.”
Monroe, always present under the table during mealtimes, lay down on top of Wendy’s feet. She didn’t nudge him to move, enjoying the warmth of his fur through her socks. “I know. And for years, that’s all I wanted.”
“But things change,” Mom said.
She stared at the soup again. In this case, she was changing. She wasn’t sure how, why, or what the end result of her metamorphosis would be. She knew only that she didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, although she still wanted to help people. The fulfillment she had from today’s meeting with the Yoders proved that, even though she didn’t know if they would take her advice and tips or continue on the same path. She couldn’t force them, or anyone, to do anything.
But after they left and she started organizing her files—a long overdue task—she looked at her minuscule caseload and balked. In the past she would have spent hours working on a case, determined not only to help her clients but also to come out on the winning side . . . even if it wasn’t the right one. Her stomach lurched.
“Wendy.”
She lifted her gaze, seeing the concern in her mother’s eyes.
“There’s something we haven’t talked about since you moved in with me, other than you mentioning it when you first left New York. I didn’t want to bring it up or pry, and you can tell me to buzz off if you want, but I must ask, does this have anything to do with Parker?”
Parker Williams. At least she didn’t flinch at the mention of his name anymore, and when he dumped her almost two years ago, she refused to call him Parker, even in her mind. Cretin, jerk, scumbag, lowlife . . . the negative adjectives were endless. And fitting. “He’s not part of my life anymore,” she said.
“I know.” Mom’s voice was gentle. “But whatever happened between the two of you had a strong effect. I could tell, especially after you first moved here.”
She nodded. She couldn’t deny that when she left New York initially to check on her mother because she’d been worried about her and didn’t quite trust Charity at the time, her breakup with Parker was a factor. She’d even admitted to her mother that she needed her because of how hurt she was—and it was the first time since she’d passed the bar that she acknowledged she needed anyone but herself.
“Like I said, if you don’t want to talk about this—”
“It’s okay.” She’d just been an eyewitness to a family willing—some reluctantly and some eagerly—to face their pain and conflict. Maybe it was time for her to do the same. “It’s just hard to admit I was such a fool.”
Mom shook her head. “I doubt that. You’re one of the savviest people I know. I raised you to be.” She smiled.
“In the courtroom, sure. But not when it comes to romance.” She leaned back, and Monroe moved off her feet. “I spent so much of my life trying to be the best. I worked hard to get the best score on the SAT, to be valedictorian, to ace college and get into law school.”
“You worked very hard,” Mom said, still smiling. “Your dad and I were proud of you. I still am.”
The words were nice to hear, and she never doubted her parents’ pride. They weren’t shy about expressing their amazement at her achievements, but they never put any pressure on her to be number one. She’d done that all on her own. “But my single-mindedness came at a price. Didn’t you and Dad ever worry about me not getting married?”
“‘Worried’ isn’t the right term. But we did wonder. And, full disclosure, we always wanted grandchildren.”
“You never told me that,” Wendy said.
“I’d seen plenty of my friends put pressure on their kids to marry and have families. I didn’t want to do that to you. Your father and I trusted God. If he wanted you to marry and have children, it would happen, regardless of what we said.” She adjusted her glasses. “What we did worry about was you working too hard and not enjoying the fruits of your labors.”
“You were right to be concerned. I did work too hard, and I started realizing that a few years ago.” She remembered the exact day—her fortieth birthday, after she’d celebrated it with legal briefs and law books instead of cake, family, and friends. But it wasn’t until two years ago when Parker Williams entered her life that she decided to do something different.
“When Parker first joined the firm, it was hard not to notice him. He was so handsome, smart, and had a brilliant legal mind. When he asked me out on a date, I could hardly believe it. Me, the old maid lawyer who rarely left her office, had caught his eye. If I had more experience dating—any experience, actually—I would have seen the red flags. If I hadn’t been so consumed with work, I would have paid attention to the grapevine. I detest gossip, but in this case it was true.”
“He was a womanizer?”
“I’m sure he still is.” She took a sip of her water. “Mom, he had this way of making you feel like you were special—the only woman he could possibly be with.” Her throat caught. “I was so stupid. Turns out there was even a betting pool going on. No one believed I would engage in anything outside of my work.”
“Oh, honey.” Mom took her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
The humiliation she’d felt that day when she discovered he not only didn’t think she was special, but he was just trying to win a big pot of money, hit her full force. Tears welled in her eyes. “What I told you about getting passed over for partner several times was true. It was also true that my boss told me I was a workaholic. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that after I’d fallen for Parker, he broke up with me, and I was the laughingstock of the firm.”
“I—” Mom’s lips pressed together, her eyes blazing. “How could a top law firm have so many immature employees?”
“They were mostly junior lawyers, some fresh out of law school and clerking for others. Surprisingly, there were a few women who participated too.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Several of them apologized to me later. And I had plenty of fellow employees who stuck up for me.” She managed to smile. “It wasn’t all horrible, but it was bad enough that I knew I had to leave for a while. I just didn’t expect it to be this long.”
Mom squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you told me about this, and I can see why you haven’t until now. If I were younger and in better shape—”
“You’d stay right here and enjoy your soup. Or at least try to. I’m glad you have my back, though.”
“Always, sweetheart.”
She pulled her hand from her mother’s. “I’m not excusing Parker or anyone else for what they did, but it was a wake-up call for me. I only knew one way to live—competitively. But living in Marigold, reading my Bible every day, and being closer to the Lord has shown me that’s not the way.”
“You can still be a lawyer, Wendy. Just don’t work so hard, or so much.”
“I thought about that. It was one reason I opened up the office in Barton. But I can see I don’t want to practice law anymore. I’m burned-out. I don’t want to spend my days cooped up in an office or a courtroom. I’ve had a taste of freedom here in Amish country and I like it, particularly the slow pace and the focus on faith. I’ve felt a peace I’ve never experienced. I can see why you and Dad were eager to move here.”
Mom’s eyes were glassy. “I wish he were still here to see this,” she said, her voice thick.
“Me too.” She sighed, but it was filled with relief. Revealing the most humiliating and hurtful experience in her life to her mother had been more freeing than she’d anticipated. She probably should have done it sooner. Or maybe this was the exact time she needed to face what happened.
She glanced at their bowls. “Our soup is cold,” she said, standing up and taking the bowls. “I’ll warm them up.”
“How about a sandwich instead?” Mom grinned. “I’m in the mood for PB&J.”
She paused. “Oddly enough, so am I.” She walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Mom. For having my back and always being so supportive.”
“You make it easy, honey. And no matter what you decide to do about your career, I’ll always support you.” Mom removed her glasses and wiped her eyes with her napkin. She looked up with a wry smile. “Extra jelly?”
Wendy almost laughed. Leave it to her mother to try to wrangle some bonus calories. Considering how diligent she usually was with her diet, what would be the harm? “Yes, but just a little.” As she dumped out the soup and made the sandwiches, a thought occurred to her. “Do you think Charity could teach me how to make some Amish dishes?”
“I’m sure she would,” Mom said. “She loves to cook.”
Wendy nodded and brought the PB&Js to the table. After they ate and her mother went to the living room, Monroe at her heels, she thought about their conversation. At the beginning of supper, she was on the fence about closing her practice. Now she was positive it was the right thing to do. She still had a lot of savings—she’d also been single-minded when it came to having a strong financial portfolio—and she could afford to take the loss on shutting down her business and continuing to explore her current interests. First sewing, now cooking, and in a few months, she would start her new garden. She grinned. Now this is the way to live.
* * *
For the rest of the week, Nelson was in a mental tailspin. He’d been in such a hurry for his new start he hadn’t checked with his family to see if they were available to help clear out part of the woods so he could begin building his house. While his father’s point that Nelson would have plenty of support was sincere, it turned out everyone had made end-of-year plans. Daed had told him to wait, and now he knew why. His parents and brothers had gone south for an overdue three-week vacation, leaving the farm in Owen’s hands, with help from Jalon, his cousin Adam, and his other brothers who lived nearby. They were also working on their own home and land improvement projects that were easier to do during the less busy months of the year. That included Malachi. Strange, since he’d expected his nephew to take full advantage of Nelson being less than a baseball throw away from his true love. But when he asked him to help clear out some of the trees behind the warehouse, Malachi declined without saying why.
He wondered if he should mention that to Ella but decided against it. He’d agreed to chaperone them on a date, not get deep into their personal business. If Malachi and Junia were still meeting in secret, they would have to face the consequences. Besides, due to his lack of foresight, he had to work alone for a while until some of his family members could pitch in. He should have listened to his father and not been so impulsive. If he’d had a schedule, he’d be behind instead of ahead, like he initially wanted.
Wednesday and Thursday he worked on felling a few trees, and the hard physical labor not only wore him out but also helped with his stress level. By Friday, though, he knew he had to get his thoughts and lists down on paper, so he went next door to the grocery store. There was a small stationery section in one corner where he could pick up a notebook and a few pens. He’d been in the store so many times he had the layout memorized.
When he walked inside, he was greeted by Ella and her smile. He ignored the jolt to his system and smiled back. If he pretended not to be affected, eventually he wouldn’t be. I hope.
“Hi, Nelson,” she said. “Wie geht’s?”
He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he was overwhelmed, so instead he said, “Gut. Just need some paper and pens.” He headed in that direction.
“What kind of paper? Is there a certain type of pen you like to use?” She followed him straight to the stationery section. “If we don’t have it here, we can order it for you.”
Glancing at her, he said, “Just a notebook and a pen. Nothing fancy.” He did have to give her credit for good customer service, something he noticed she always displayed, regardless of her mood. Today she seemed to be in a good one. He hadn’t seen her since he’d stopped by her house late Tuesday afternoon. That didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about her. In between trying to pin down his family, chopping wood, and attempting to come up with a plan, he was keenly aware that when she wasn’t upset or cranky and he wasn’t annoyed or trying to get away from her, they were able to have a decent conversation. She wasn’t his enemy, and he wasn’t hers. That made his life a lot easier.
She stood next to him and picked up a plain yellow pad and a pack of twelve ballpoint pens. “Here you geh,” she said, starting to hand them to him. Then she paused.
“What?” he said, ready to take the objects. They were exactly what he wanted.
She put the pad and pens back. “You should pick out your own,” she said.
“Okay.” When he grabbed what she had chosen, she put her hand on his arm.
“Are you sure?”
Confused, he turned to her. “Ya, Ella. I’m sure I want these.”
“You don’t have to take them because I said so.”
“I’m not.” He faced her. “What’s this all about?”
She folded her hands in front of her and stared at her feet. “I’m trying not to be so bossy,” she said in a low voice.
There wasn’t anyone else in the store, so he didn’t know why she was whispering. “That’s gut, but you weren’t being bossy. You were helping me.”
She looked up at him, frowning. “I can’t even tell the difference anymore.”
“I tell you what,” he said, taking the pad and pens. “I’ll let you know if you’re being bossy, at least around me.”
Her gray eyes brightened a little. Then she smirked. “I think you might enjoy doing that.”
He couldn’t help but grin . . . because she was right. “I promise not to enjoy it too much.”
That made her laugh.
He stilled. She had a great laugh too. Light, but hearty and genuine.
The bell above the door chimed and she turned as a customer walked through. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
Nelson nodded and he couldn’t resist watching her walk away. She was trying to change an unpleasant quality in herself and that was admirable. He made his way to the counter to check out, stopping to pick up a package of beef jerky for a snack. In the past he’d made his own deer jerky, even before he became a butcher, but he had learned new and improved ways to prepare it when he was training with Samuel. Commercial brands didn’t compare, but they weren’t bad either.
Ella was still helping the customer and Barnabas came out from the back to ring up Nelson’s purchases. “Saw you chopping down some trees the other day,” he said as he wrote down the items on a ticket pad. “If you need some help, let me know. Been a while since I faced a tree, but I could use the exercise.” He looked up and leaned forward, glancing at Ella, who was definitely being helpful to her customer as she showed her different brands of laundry detergent. “Mei dochders think I’m old and feeble,” he said with a wink.
Nelson didn’t think Barnabas looked old or feeble. He also couldn’t refuse assistance. “I’ll take you up on it. Whenever you’re free, just come on over. I’ll be there.” Other than going to Jesse and Charity’s for meals, he was solely committed to working on his property.
He paid for his purchases, and when he got back to the warehouse, he sat on the edge of his bed and made several lists of tasks and supplies. Then he turned to a fresh sheet and stared at it. What should he tackle first? Ordering the supplies was a no-brainer, but some of them he couldn’t purchase until he finished other tasks first. Why was this so hard for him to figure out?
He shut the notebook and went back outside to work on another tree. At least he knew how to do that, and he was accomplishing something. He’d figure the other stuff out later.