I returned from my new employee orientation by midafternoon. My mind had wandered to Joel during most of the meeting. What was his problem with me? I couldn’t expect all of my employees to like me, but I hadn’t expected them to be antagonistic toward me either.
Lord, help me to understand Joel and get this department on the right track. If that doesn’t work, You might have to shorten my time here from two years. I couldn’t imagine working with Joel and his awful attitude for long.
I pulled the sack lunch of a ham sandwich, pickles, crackers, and chocolate chip cookies from my tote bag. If Becky kept feeding me like this, it would be hard to ask her to leave my house. It would also be hard to avoid gaining fifteen pounds like Harshberger’s freshmen. Becky’s food was delicious, but it packed more calories into one meal than I usually ate in three days.
As I ate lunch, I read the employee manual. A tap, tap on my doorframe caught my attention. Timothy smiled at me. “I see Becky’s made good use of the groceries I brought you.”
I gathered up the remnants of my lunch, tucked the sack under my desk, and stood. “Yes, she has. Thank you so much for the food. It was very kind of you.” As I sat on the corner of my desk, I knocked over the metal cup filled with pens and pencils. The cup rolled off the desk, its contents flying every direction. I stifled a groan. Between this and the bed frame incident, Timothy was bound to consider me a complete klutz.
Timothy started to pick up the writing utensils from the floor.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I can get it.”
He ignored me and finished gathering up all the fallen pieces.
I peeked out the door, happy to see the computer guys had left for lunch. At least my clumsiness was limited to Timothy’s inspection . . . again.
He placed the last pencil in the cup. “Becky tells me she’s living with you.”
I swallowed. “I said she could stay with me for a few days. We haven’t discussed anything permanent. She’s a nice girl and has been a big help as I get settled here.” I cracked a smile. “And my cat likes her. That’s no small feat.”
He didn’t smile back. “My sister needs to go back home. My parents are worried.”
“I can understand their worry. Maybe it would help if Becky explains how she’s feeling to your parents.”
Timothy shook his head. “It’s time for her go home, join the church, and marry a nice man.”
“You mean Bishop Glick’s son.”
“She told you, then?”
I nodded. The ham sandwich felt like a rock in my stomach.
His blue eyes narrowed. “This is none of your concern. It’s a private business. The church is important.”
“I agree. The church is very important. Becky told you I was a Christian.”
Timothy’s brows shot up and he took a tiny step back. “That’s what she said.” He spoke slowly, as if unconvinced.
His doubt stung. “You decided not to join the church, isn’t that right?”
He paused, as if weighing my question. “It is a decision you could never understand.” Then he turned on the heel of his boots and marched from the room.
He was right. I couldn’t understand. Not at all.
I was exhausted by the time I left Harshberger that afternoon to meet Becky downtown. When I pulled the RAV4 into a parking space in front of the bakery, it was after five, and many of the shops along the square were closed for the day. Buggies waited by the curbs ready to take shopkeepers home. I kept an eye out for any who may come along and roll up the sidewalks. Within two minutes Becky stumbled out of the bakery.
She jumped into my car, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Are you okay?”
“Just go.”
“Becky—”
“Please!”
“All right.” I shifted the car into reverse. Through the display window, a girl in a bright white apron and dark blonde hair watched us drive away.
When we reached the house, I pulled into the driveway, but Becky ran into the house before the car came to a complete stop.
Upstairs, I stood in her doorway. “Do you want to talk about it?” She was lying across her bed.
Becky mumbled into her pillow.
“I can’t understand you when you talk into your pillow like that.”
She flipped over. “No one will give me a job.”
I sat on the edge of her bed. “No one?
“I went to every shop in Appleseed Creek and no one would hire me.” She rolled over and clutched the pillow to her chest. “They wouldn’t even talk to me,” Becky added in a whisper.
“Maybe they didn’t have any openings.”
“It wasn’t that.” Tears threatened to fall again. “They wouldn’t talk to me because I left home, because I’m no longer Amish.”
“I’m sorry, Becky.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“And now you are going to kick me out. Where am I going to go? I can’t go home. I can’t.” Her huge blue eyes swam with tears.
Ten years earlier, when I was fourteen, I’d lain across Tanisha’s bed in tears, begging Mr. and Mrs. Green to take me in. They had. How could I turn her away now? Becky was five years older than I was at the time, but in many ways I had been older than she. I certainly knew the kind of pain that the outside world could cause.
“Listen,” I said, smoothing the wrinkles away from the comforter, “you can stay here as long as you need to.”
Her face lit up, and she sat up and wrapped me in a hug. “Thank you, Chloe! You’re like a big sister to me now.”
My cell phone rang, and I jumped off the bed to answer it. I fished through my purse, checked the readout, and grimaced.
Becky clutched that pillow to her chest again. “Who is it?”
My shoulders drooped. “My evil stepmother.” I took the phone into my bedroom. “Hello, Sabrina.”
My stepmother sniffed into the phone. “Chloe, your father’s sorry he couldn’t speak to you himself, but you know how busy he is.”
“I do.” I stood by my bedroom window.
“I’m glad,” Sabrina replied. “He’s pleased you found gainful employment. We were worried that all the money spent on your education would go to waste.”
I gripped the cell phone. “Please tell him thank you.”
Gigabyte jumped on the windowsill and bumped his head on my hip. The sound of a truck backfiring tore through the quiet, and I shivered. The green pickup rolled by on the street below.
Sabrina continued. “I’m glad I have you on the line. I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving.”
“That’s four months away.”
The truck’s taillights disappeared around the corner.
Sabrina sniffed. “Yes, I know, but you can’t know how difficult it is to coordinate everyone’s schedules. Your father and I have decided to go on a cruise Thanksgiving week, so we won’t be having our usual get-together. It will be good for him to get away. He works far too hard. I told him you’d understand.”
“Are you taking the kids?” I barely knew my eight-year-old half sister Brin and six-year-old half brother Blake. I only saw them when my father flew me out to California for Thanksgiving once a year. I flew in on Wednesday night and out on Friday morning. That’s how it had always been since he’d met Sabrina.
“Of course, they are too young to leave behind.” She said this as if I should have known better. “This must come as a relief for you. I know you’d much rather visit with your friend Tamara than come see us.”
“It’s Tanisha,” I said. “She’s in Italy.”
“Oh, well, Thanksgiving in the country will be nice for you.” Her voice trilled. “It will be a learning experience.”
I inhaled a deep breath, listening to her chatter on about all that Brin and Blake had accomplished since we’d last talked. Then she hung up. As I set down the phone, the green pickup cruised down the street for the second time that evening.