Called to Order (11 page)

Slamming the door closed, Annalise pressed a hand to her forehead and leaned her back into the cool tile. She focused on the steady drip, drip, drip of tap water leaking past the loose washer of the faucet and plunking into the rusted basin of the sink. She pushed away how amazing those two minutes of being held by strange over-tipper guy felt and forced herself to think about how she could explain her actions to Kyle.

She moved her hand away from her eyes when she heard the door to the restroom push open. Kyle stood there, still wearing the same confused expression. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

She shook her head. “I…I don’t know. I just heard the song and the next thing I knew I was dancing with him.”

“Who is he?”

“He’s just a customer.”

“Are you sure?”

There was a long moment of silence. Kyle eyed her skeptically. “What else would he be?”

“You two were not dancing like strangers at a bar. You were dancing like long-lost lovers.”

“That’s ridiculous. I never saw him before last night.”

“Look, Lisey, if you wanna start seeing other people, you need to let me know. It’s one thing to adjust the rules of the game as we go. It’s another thing altogether to break the rules.”

She tried not to get irritated at Kyle’s easygoing acceptance of her wanting to see other people. Not that she wanted to, but the way he acted like he would be okay with it so long as she was upfront stung a little. Maybe he was bluffing. Surely it would bother him if she suddenly wanted to share her body with another man. Unless… maybe he wanted to sleep with some other woman. Her mind began embarking on a roller coaster of jealousy and self-doubt, a ride that usually stopped off at irrational bitch station. She glared at him. “What if I said I wanted to? You wouldn’t care?”

“Of course I would care, but I would be pissed if you lied to me,” he snapped.

Her posture shifted defensively. “And what about you, Kyle? Do you wanna see other people?”

“I’m not the one slow dancing with some chick in front of you in the middle of the bar!”

“I don’t even know the guy!”

“Well, it looked like you did. Not only that, it looked like you didn’t have a boyfriend. You want to be single, fine, but how about sending me a memo first?”

“You’re the one sounding like you don’t want a relationship anymore. This morning you tell me I stink, and now you’re making a big deal about nothing. Maybe you’re the one who has something they need to get off their chest.” Something she said earned a deep scowl. He tilted his head and stepped closer. “Wha—what are you doing?” He sniffed her neck. Was he friggen’ kidding?

“That’s the smell. It’s that guy’s cologne!”

She glared at him. “Are you insane?”

“That’s it. Only now it’s a hundred times stronger than it was this morning. Where were you before you came to work?”

The accusation in his voice hurt. “I was home!”

“By yourself?”

“Yes, by myself! What the fuck, Kyle? If you have something you want to say, just say it!”

“Fine! I think you know this guy. I think you saw him last night. I even think he might have been there this morning, and that’s why you reek of some other guy!”

She coughed out an astonished breath. Quietly she said, “You know what? I am not going to stand here, cornered in the
ladies’ room
, being insulted. First you tell me I smell. Now you’re accusing me of being a whore. How about this, I never saw that guy outside of the bar or before yesterday, but I’d be willing to bet he has better manners and more class in his pinky than you have in your whole body. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go find out since my shift is over. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Annalise pushed past Kyle and out of the bathroom.

She hoped the dim lighting of the bar was enough to hide the tears now filling her eyes. Shockingly, the world did not stop for her problems. She moved quickly to the bar to retrieve her bag when Bruce asked, “Hey Lisey, where’s Kyle? I’ve been waiting for five minutes for my Bud.” She ignored him and walked directly out the front door, keeping her eyes down. She did manage to catch Kyle coming out of the bathroom, and she thought she might have seen Adam stand the second she pressed out the door and into the humidity of the hot night.

She furiously dug through her bag for her keys and cursed all men for being idiots as she swiped the heel of her palm angrily under her eyes. When she unlocked her door, she didn’t even bother to lower the windows. She climbed in and slammed the door, locking herself in the sweltering heat. She jammed the key into the ignition and could already feel sweat beading under her clothing. She turned the key and the Steaming Turd gave a tired retch, click, click, click, and a groan.
Motherfucker!

She turned the key again and got the same reply. Beyond frustrated, she slammed her palms across the steering wheel as she yelled every choice curse word she could manage. She was jarred from her tirade when a light knock rapped across her window. She saw the pale-blue, cuffed sleeve and knew it was Adam. Annalise pressed her palms flat on the wheel then calmly brought them to her face to smooth back her ponytail. Taking a calming breath, she turned the key enough to power the car if not the engine and rolled down her window.

Adam didn’t lean down. He simply stood there, well over six foot tall, and softly said, “I thought we could go for a walk.”

Annalise looked at the crease of his shirt where the buttons were hidden. His clothing was kind of weird. Her eyes moved to his hips. Jeans. Could Amish wear blue jeans? He wore a plain, brown leather belt. Her eyes fell upon the zipper of his pants then she quickly looked out her windshield. Probably shouldn’t eye up the Amish eye candy. She could get him shunned or something.

She turned back to him as her door clicked open. She watched as his large hand gently fell over hers resting on her lap and gave a soft squeeze. “Walk with me.”

As if moving through a dream, Annalise allowed herself to be pulled from the car. Adam gently took her bag and tucked it behind the driver’s seat then removed the key from the ignition. He locked her door then tucked her keys into his pocket and took her hand once more.

Not usually a quiet girl, she seemed incapable of words at the moment. She felt an odd comfort around Adam, an inexplicable safeness. Maybe it was the Amish thing. They were like people of God, right? Although, there was that big underground cocaine farm in Amish country a few years back, but Adam probably wasn’t involved in that.

“What does your farm grow?”

“We harvest many things, but we are not involved in outside sale. The women sometimes run goods to town, but as far as our agriculture and livestock, we tend to raise only what we need for our families.”

His voice filled the space between them like heated honey. His words were thick and accented with sweet drops and enunciated consonants that caused a sort of echo to cling in the air. He held her hand and they walked down the sidewalk past different storefronts. Bensalem was not a night stroll kind of town. It wasn’t a city. If you needed to go somewhere, you drove. As a matter of fact, as far as walking, she couldn’t remember ever walking anywhere since she had her license. It just wasn’t a scenic place.

There was a strip parking lot to their left and a highway after that. She thought about the empty, bog-like field behind the strip. It was one of those forgotten sections of land that had gotten left behind after the commercialization of the world closed in on all other angles. It was a far cry from a park or anything remotely aesthetic, more like a field where you would want to tread carefully and keep your eyes peeled so you didn’t step on a lost flip-flop or used condom. Yeah, that would definitely be a dark place you wouldn’t go with a stranger. “Do you want to get a coffee?” Annalise asked as she pointed to the brightly lit Dunkin’ Donuts.

He paused. “Sure.”

Once they had each ordered a coffee and Adam insisted on paying, they sat at a small orange table with pink tabletop. Annalise distracted herself by making a production out of tearing five sweeteners one by one and slowly adding them to her coffee then doing the same with her three creamers. When she began stirring together her creamy concoction, she prayed Adam would say something to break the silence. When too much time passed and she assumed he was just going to sit there silently all night, she pulled her gaze from her cup and looked at him. He had been watching her, his expression quizzical and beautiful all at once.

“You have lovely hands.”

“Why did you play that song?” they each spoke at the same time. She blushed, not hearing what he said and amended, “Sorry, you first.”

“I was just noticing your hands. They are lovely.”

Annalise examined her boring fingers and no-nonsense length fingernails and frowned. Was that an actual compliment? Was he joking? Or was it like,
Hello, you have nice hands. I’d like to keep them in a jar of formaldehyde next to my pickled pigs feet and ball of human hair…?

“Thanks?”

He smiled, and a small chuckle slipped past his lips. He then reached for said hand and she looked at the man behind the counter and hoped he would call the cops if she needed to scream. “I played that song because I thought you would like it.”

Okay, small talk. She could do this. “I do like it. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Yes, The Beatles, right?”

“Right.” She eyed him curiously. “What made you think I would like it?”

He seemed to hesitate before answering. “What if I told you I had a dream about you and that song was in it?”

She stilled and placed her cup back on the table. “I would say that is pretty fucking freaky because I had a similar dream.”

He did not seem surprised by her confession. He only said, “Such a beautiful mouth should not speak such ugly words.” She knew it was probably a religious Amish thing, so she quickly apologized.

“What was your dream about?”

“A beautiful woman with hair the color of copper that shined red under the sunshine, as she sung to me in a field while teasing a kitten.”

Annalise’s hand went to her ponytail. She laughed nervously as her gaze darted around the empty coffee house, and she wondered if she was somehow being punked. People didn’t just share dreams. Deadpan, she said, “Ah, but you said a beautiful woman, not necessarily me.”

“It was you.”

The surety of his statement resurrected her apprehension. Challengingly she asked, “What color was the kitten?”

“Gray?”

“Where were they standing?”

“We were not standing, but lazing on a quilt in a field. The quilt had a blue hex symbol on it. It is one that my sister created. It now hangs from the loft of my family’s home. The kitten has white paws and a pink nose and likes to trip you when you are heading to milk the cows in the morning. The field we were lying in is on my farm.”

All breath left her as her mouth suddenly went dry. “Are you psychic?” she rasped.

His smile was slow and devastating. “Not psychic, no, however I have no doubt you are the woman from my dreams.”

“I don’t understand this.”

“Sometimes it is not our duty to figure out the why of things, only to fulfill the task God charges us with.”

“You, I mean the Amish, you guys are really religious right?”

“We believe in God and doing his work.”

“Is that why you’re here? To find me? Are you like a Jehovah’s Witness or something here to recruit me?” She was suddenly uncomfortable and defensive for some reason. “If so, I gotta tell you, you came for the wrong girl. I’m graduating in a week and I have no time for buggies and cults.”

He frowned, and she had a stab of guilt for maybe insulting his lifestyle. “You study medicine.”