CHAPTER
15

Early Monday morning, Leona helped Mamma pin the washing to the cellar clotheslines Dat had strung up for rainy days such as this. While she worked, she made a mental list of the various items she wanted to pack once the clothes were dry and folded. If I can make arrangements soon. Gloria’s relief at her offer to visit was fixed in her memory, and Leona felt that time was of the essence.

Later, Leona headed to the phone shanty, where first she called the Amtrak listing and then, after discovering how unaffordable it would be to go all that way by train, called the bus station. She jotted down the information in her notepad, disappointed at how costly both modes of travel would be.

Discouraged yet determined, she placed a call to her favorite van driver, Ted Bell, in case he knew of anyone else headed in that direction who might be willing to share the cost.

“As a matter of fact, two older couples are leaving for Hot Springs, Arkansas, this Wednesday morning. I’m sure they’ll be glad to divide the cost with yet another passenger.” Ted assured her there would be plenty of room for her to ride along. “We’ll stop for the night along the way and get an early start Thursday morning. Eighteen hours is too long a drive to safely make in one day.”

“Sounds fine.”

Ted told her the amount, which was more reasonable than either the bus or the train.

“That’s better than I’d hoped.” She said for him to count on her going, recalling Gloria’s offer to help with the cost.

“All right, then. Be ready by nine o’clock Wednesday morning.”

“My friend will likely be able to pick me up in Hot Springs,” she said, hoping so.

He agreed.

They hung up, Leona delighted to see how quickly the details were falling into place.

———

The moment she got off the phone with Ted, Leona called Gloria back with her good news. “It might be inconvenient for you,” she said, explaining that the driver was going to Hot Springs, then somewhere south of there to pick up some other passengers. “I have no idea how far your town is from there.”

“Don’t fret; I’ll pick you up.” Gloria sounded gleeful. “This is just wonderful.”

Leona explained that she could only stay till early Sunday. “Will that suit ya?”

“Sure, but I’ll have to work some on Saturday. Maybe you can hang out at the diner where I waitress for a while that afternoon and meet some of my friends.”

Leona took it all in. “This is such short notice, I understand if ya can’t get off work the whole time.” Then she added, “I can scarcely wait to see ya, Gloria.”

“It does seem like forever, doesn’t it?”

Leona felt like she might start tearing up. “I’ll see ya real soon.”

The silence that ensued felt so long that Leona thought the line had gone dead. It wouldn’t have been the first time such a thing had happened out there in the middle of the neighbor’s field.

Just when Leona was going to hang up, Gloria spoke again. “Keep my number handy, and let me know if your plans change, okay?”

“I’ll call from the driver’s cell phone when we’re three hours or so away from Hot Springs, jah?”

Gloria laughed into the phone. “It’s been a long time since I heard anyone in my family say ‘jah’ or anything else in Deitsch.”

This struck Leona as really surprising. “We can speak Deitsch together my entire visit, if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry to say my father’s forbidden any of us to speak Pennsylvania Dutch around him.”

After they said good-bye, Leona walked slowly back to the house, pondering what Gloria had said. Truly, it sounded as though the Gingeriches had left behind every jot and tittle of the Plain life, and considering the forthcoming trip, Leona felt anxious. Is it a mistake, going away from the People . . . deep into the outside world?

Gloria was dragging her feet about helping Mom clean the house that evening, wishing her mother would put away their collection of springtime decor. Even one papier-maché rabbit seemed inappropriate with Leona coming to visit. Amish folk didn’t have frivolous knickknacks, let alone an Easter egg tree or fake baby chicks. Dust catchers, Gloria thought, annoyed by her mother’s interest in buying such pointless things.

“This could be jarring to Leona, you know,” she told her mother as she dusted the seasonal collection along the bay windowsill.

“Well,” Mom reminded her, “she’s not your typical sheltered Amish girl, remember. She was working at her sister-in-law’s tourist shop when we moved away.”

Gloria knew little about Leona’s life now. But she knew one thing: She should not have lost track of her friend, and more and more, Gloria placed the blame on her parents. “You once said the best way to get over the pain of leaving Leona was to put the past behind me,” she said.

“Right . . . and I told you to keep it there, too. Do you remember that?” Mom’s tone was annoying.

“Honestly, that wasn’t the best advice. Not for me.”

“Now, honey . . .” Mom reached for her shoulder, but Gloria pushed her mother’s hand away. “I really hope you and Dad aren’t going to make things uncomfortable while Leona’s here,” she said and left the room. Let her mother finish fussing with all the decor.

Despite her mother’s obsession with trinkets, Gloria was relieved that her parents had ultimately seemed tolerant of, if not okay with, Leona’s visit. Her father had objected the most, asking what Gloria was thinking inviting her without first getting their consent. But even he had relented once Gloria made her case. What problem could a solitary visitor like Leona possibly pose? “After all, she’s always been a friend to us,” Gloria had argued. “And I’m twenty-one now—old enough to take care of myself.”

Gloria sauntered down the hall to dust and vacuum her room, staring at the wall-to-wall carpet, trying to see it—and everything else in the house—through Leona’s eyes. No hardwood floors here, she thought, wondering if her parents would blare the TV each night after supper, when they watched their favorite sitcoms instead of having family worship like they used to. And of course Adam’s beloved NBA was in the midst of play-offs. No, she would steer clear of the living room if the TV was on. Leona’s in for a shock if she’s still devout. Recalling how curious they both had been about television, back when Gloria herself was Amish in Colerain, Gloria wouldn’t think of tempting her.

She finished cleaning her room from top to bottom and then wandered to the kitchen, where her father was sitting at the table in the far corner, balancing his checkbook. Adam was at the kitchen island talking to Mom while she wiped down the microwave. Respecting her brother’s privacy, Gloria walked past them and headed toward the downstairs rec room, where the boys’ air hockey and Ping-Pong tables were located, and where her father had built in bookshelves on the other end of the room.

Mom called to her. “Come join us, Gloria.”

She turned back and pulled out a stool at the end of the island. “What’s up?”

“Your brother’s landed an apartment.” Mom smiled at Adam. “A big step.”

“He’s moving out?”

“Splitting the rent with one of his mechanic friends,” Mom said, still doing all the talking.

“Is your new place far from here?” asked Gloria.

Adam shrugged. “Too far to walk, if that’s what you mean.” He chuckled. “Close enough to the diner that I won’t starve.”

“Well, I hope your roommate knows how to cook.”

“His sister says he can reheat leftovers.” Adam reached for an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and chomped into it. “But you and Mom can come over anytime.” Here, Adam grinned. “Any extra crumbs will be welcome.”

“Absolutely.” Mom dried her hands on a towel. “Certain dishes are actually tastier reheated.”

“It’s a good thing Leona’s visiting this week, because I’m moving a week from Wednesday,” Adam said.

“I’ll be glad to help you pack,” Gloria volunteered. “Be sure to take a few of the knickknacks from the living room, okay?”

Mom’s gasp meant she didn’t appreciate that suggestion, and Adam grimaced, then joked that he wouldn’t be caught dead with anything from Mom’s shelves.

“What’ll you do with his empty room?” Gloria asked Mom as she helped herself to an apple of her own.

“Oh, I’ve got plans.” Mom’s eyes sparkled. “A craft room, maybe . . . or we might move the reading room upstairs.”

Adam groaned and pleaded with her not to spoil his former room with floral fabric or her poetry books.

Mom laughed, looking more relaxed than she had in a long time.

“What’s this ’bout a craft room?” Their father got up and wandered over. “Hey, I live here, too, don’t I? I have in mind a computer room—a real home office. It’d be mighty nice to do my paperwork at home on weekends instead of the welding shop.”

Then, looking Gloria’s way, he asked, “How long’s Leona here for?”

“Just three nights. She heads back early Sunday morning.”

He pushed one hand into his jeans pocket. “I guess we can hold things together that long.” He clapped Adam’s right shoulder with his free hand. “What do ya say, son?”

“We wouldn’t want to scare her now that we’re fancy folk,” Adam said.

Mom looked worried. “Leona always was a very sweet girl.”

“And still is,” Gloria piped up.

“Good thing she won’t be here over a Sunday,” Dad murmured as he headed toward the living room.

“I’d be happy to take her to my church,” Gloria said softly.

“Hope you’ve told her we ain’t—aren’t—Amish anymore,” Adam said.

“I let her know, yes.”

Mom blew a stray hair from her eyes. “Well, glad we got that all settled.”

Nothing’s settled, Gloria thought.