The Preacher's Daughter (13 page)

‘‘It was a big birthday surprise when I was twelve. I got spoiled that year.'' Annie watched her friend sitting on the chair where she'd pondered so often what should or shouldn't be shared in her letters to an outsider.

Just then, Louisa turned and looked up at her. ‘‘This is so wild. I've tried to picture you, your room . . . everything. You have no idea how terrific this is.''

‘‘Ach, I feel the same way, havin' you visit.'' Annie suddenly thought of their bath routine tonight and cringed.
What'll she think when she finds out about Saturday night baths? Will she turn right around and make a beeline for home?

But she didn't reveal the bath routine. She just kept smiling, and Louisa did, too, like they were long-lost friends; except they knew they weren't that at all.

‘‘Come, let's get you settled.''

Annie was amazed at the ‘‘slide show'' in Louisa's Palm, as Louisa called it—one image after another of the watercolor and oil paintings in the recent exhibit. ‘‘You must be so happy 'bout your students,'' said Annie, looking intently, and then holding the gadget when Louisa handed it to her. ‘‘What do I do with it?''

‘‘Just watch.''

‘‘It goes all by itself?''

‘‘Yep.''

She'd heard of some of the womenfolk in other church districts being allowed to own cell phones, but she'd never seen anything like this. ‘‘It's hard to believe . . . such clear pictures in a little device.'' She looked at Louisa. ‘‘What will your students do without you while you're here?''

‘‘Oh, don't worry . . . they have plenty of assignments.''

‘‘A whole month's worth?''

‘‘At least.'' Louisa turned off her Palm. ‘‘That's enough for now,'' she said. ‘‘Want to help me unpack?''

‘‘Sure.'' But as Louisa removed her colorful clothes from her suitcase, Annie was quite surprised. There were a number of outfits, and for all different occasions, it seemed—dress up, work, play, and everything in between. Foreign as anything she'd ever seen, as fancy as the catalog pages at Julia's. There was even a separate pull-out case for Louisa's bracelets, necklaces, and earrings.

Annie bit her lip, wishing she might persuade her friend away from such ornamentation while she was here, at least. Contemplating the potentially awkward situation, she continued helping Louisa organize her clothes.

Out of the blue, Louisa stopped what she was doing. ‘‘It's surprising that you and your family would open your home to me. I'm really grateful.''

Annie touched her arm. ‘‘You're truly welcome.'' She leaned over to line up Louisa's shoes beneath the wooden wall pegs. ‘‘We enjoy havin' company, believe me. My mother loves to cook . . . likes havin' lots of feet beneath her dinner table.''

‘‘Cooking is one of
my
passions, too. Sometime while I'm here, I'd like to treat all of you to one of my favorite recipes. Deal?''

‘‘I'm sure Mamm will be more than happy to take you up on it, but we'll help you with the wood stove, of course.''

‘‘Oh, I didn't think of that.'' Louisa's eyes were mischievous. ‘‘I might present the family with a burnt offering, which would never do.'' She reached down and unzipped the pet carry bag. ‘‘I hope my kitty's welcome to stay . . . here in the bedroom. Is it all right?''

Annie wondered when Louisa might mention Muffin. ‘‘Well, since he's a city cat he must be used to lots of pamperin', jah?''

Lifting out the lump of grayish-blue fur, Louisa snuggled her nose into his neck. ‘‘There's my sweet boy. Aw, such a good traveler you are.''

‘‘Our mouse catchers in the barn never had it this fine.'' Annie laughed, enjoying the sight of Louisa and her cat. She'd heard so much about ‘‘precious Muffin this,'' ‘‘darling Muffin that'' for the past year or so, since Louisa had gotten her new place after college graduation.

Louisa set her kitty on the floor, and immediately Muffin disappeared beneath the ruffled white bed skirt.

For good measure, Annie hurried to close the door.
In case he decides to make a run for it
. Returning to sit on the bed, she decided now was a good time to tell Louisa about the evening's activities. ‘‘Since we're hosting the Preaching service tomorrow, there'll be a group of men comin' later this afternoon to remove some of the interior walls—to make an open space large enough for the meeting. The bench wagon will arrive soon after.''

Louisa nodded. ‘‘I'm fascinated to see how everything is set up.''

‘‘Well, some of Mamm's helpers will start arriving at seven-thirty tomorrow morning. It gets awful busy round here on Preaching days.''

‘‘I don't want to be in the way,'' Louisa insisted. ‘‘Just tell me what to do and when.''

Should I say something about fitting in just yet?
Annie wondered, not wanting to stare at Louisa's shiny pink lips or her dangling earrings. Rather, she zeroed in on her thoughtful aqua blue eyes, but even they were made up too much.

Then, as though sensing her concern, Louisa said, ‘‘I brought along several skirts and dresses. Wouldn't want to stick out like a sore thumb here.'' Promptly Louisa held up a bright red shirtdress, a tiny flap-style pocket on the upper left bodice. The other dress she showed Annie was a solid lime green, a bit low cut, and the color shouted,
‘‘Lookee here at me!''

Annie held her breath. The dresses, if they were Louisa's only choices, were much too loud for Preaching service.

‘‘Knowing your people as you do, Annie, which would be best for church tomorrow?''

Ach, neither one!
She was at a terrible loss for words.

Right away, Jesse was in a quandary, seeing Annie's friend enter the kitchen looking like Jezebel herself.

What have we done?
Even as he thought this, he scooted his chair back from the head of the table. He felt strongly the importance of showing respect to their guest even though she was bejeweled, made up to kingdom come, and wearing fancy clothes . . . a man's pair of trousers, in all truth.

‘‘Welcome to our house.'' He extended his hand.

‘‘Thank you, uh . . . Mr. Zook. Well, Preacher Zook is better, isn't it?'' She shook his hand and smiled.

He could see she was trying hard to be polite, though he was also mighty sure she was terribly uncomfortable. Still, he recalled the curious words spoken by Preacher Moses regarding Annie and her visitor and hoped that just maybe Louisa's coming might prove to be providential indeed.

Annie insisted on Louisa sitting next to where Mamm always sat at the table. Louisa offered repeatedly to carry over the serving platters, but Mamm was adamant about her being ‘‘waited on'' for the first meal with the family.

Meanwhile, Dawdi and Mammi Zook came over from the Dawdi Haus, the connecting addition to the main house, Mammi leaning on both her cane and Dawdi's arm. ‘‘Well, who do we have here?'' she asked, eyes bright as she leaned forward, wobbling a bit.

‘‘Louisa Stratford has come to stay awhile,'' Daed spoke up.

‘‘Well, it's very nice to meet you, young lady,'' Mammi said, nodding her head and smiling.

‘‘Where'd you come from?'' asked Dawdi, his pure white beard touching his chest.

Before Louisa could answer, Annie volunteered. ‘‘She's all the way from Denver, Colorado.''
Not from Mars!

‘‘Well, now, I hope ya didn't walk,'' said Dawdi, a twinkle in his eye.

Louisa shook her head, smiling. ‘‘Two thousand miles is a long way.''

‘‘She flew on a plane,'' Mamm spoke up. The comment put a slight damper on things until Luke and Omar wandered in from the barn, looking disheveled. Annie waited till both had washed up at the sink, and then she introduced them to Louisa, as well.

Luke blushed and muttered ‘‘hullo,'' as though he ought not to be looking at such a fancy woman.

But Omar stuck his hand out and smiled big, his brown eyes shining. ‘‘Nice to meet ya.''

‘‘And you, too,'' said Louisa, smiling back.

When they were all seated, following Daed's silent mealtime prayer, Mamm carried the conversation, asking Louisa about her family. To this Louisa summed up her father's work, saying merely that he was a busy attorney and that her mother kept occupied with her social groups, including a monthly book club.

‘‘Oh, a book club, you say?'' Omar's eyes shone. ‘‘I'm curious 'bout that.''

Mamm clammed up quickly, casting a glance at Annie, a question mark on her face.

Louisa continued on. ‘‘Last count, there were eight bookworms in the group. Two men, the rest women. They choose a book to read each month, then meet for coffee and dessert at someone's house and talk about it.''

‘‘Sounds interesting,'' Daed spoke up suddenly. ‘‘What sort of books?''

Here we go,
thought Annie.

Louisa shrugged. ‘‘Oh, all kinds. This month it's Grisham's latest novel.''

‘‘Who's that?'' Omar asked, his left suspender drooping off his shoulder.

‘‘The author, John Grisham, writes courtroom thrillers, for the most part.'' Louisa said this with such certainty that Annie was sure Louisa had also read them. ‘‘My mother's book club reads everything from CIA suspense to alternate reality,'' Louisa added.

Daed frowned, clearly mystified. ‘‘I can't say I've ever heard of this alternate reality. What do you mean by it?''

Louisa paused, reaching for her water glass. She looked so peculiar with her eyelashes long and dark, as showy as the English tourists who visited the quilt shops and the many roadside stands up and down Harvest Road. ‘‘What if you could wake up and discover the dreams you have at night are actually real— your
true
life? So you're walking around in your dream, but it's really your life.''

Luke chuckled and put his head down quickly, but Omar latched right on to Louisa's comment. ‘‘I could go for a book like that, really!''

Everyone laughed, including Daed.

‘‘I could go for 'bout any book if I could see the print,'' Dawdi added.

Mammi wore a sly grin. ‘‘Oh, go on with ya, Pop.''

Annie felt herself relaxing a bit. Her family was attempting to make Louisa feel comfortable. Still, a downright awkward predicament, to be sure.

Chapter 14

L
ouisa was bowled over when Annie said she could be first for the Saturday night bath in the kitchen. ‘‘You mean you all use the same bath water?''

Annie grinned, though it was apparent she was trying her best not to. ‘‘It's the fastest way to get done.''

‘‘Well, that's nice, but . . .'' She felt positively speechless.
What was I thinking . . . leaving my Jacuzzi tub behind?

‘‘You all right?'' asked Annie as they talked in the privacy of her bedroom.

‘‘Oh, sure.'' But Louisa was convinced her mascara was smudged and her face oily from the humidity here and the long day of travel. A brisk scrub or even a facial would be wonderful if she could actually see what she was doing.
No large mirrors?

Annie explained further. ‘‘For the baths, the kitchen is closed off, really 'tis. We simply hang a big curtain between the kitchen and the adjoining room. We tape cardboard up on each of the windows so no one could possibly see in.''

‘‘I guess I'll adjust.'' But Louisa wasn't certain the required adjustment would kick in within the next few hours. So . . . this was the real introduction to the simple life she had been craving.

The next shocker awaited her in the outhouse. Her eyes watered at the horrendous smell, and she refused to sit down on the wooden opening.
I'm going to have to expand my lung capacity immediately!

Louisa lathered up with the scratchy bar of oatmeal soap, unquestionably homemade, resisting the slightest urge to relax or soak. Sitting knees up in the tub, she wondered wryly what her friends would say if they could see her now.

Thinking back to supper, right here in this room, she recalled the flabbergasted looks on each of the Zooks' faces.
I must seem like an alien!

Following the inelegant bath, she was glad for the warmth of the grand old cookstove and wrapped herself in a thick towel. She fought off the lingering concern that Luke or Omar might forget and walk in on her, and dried off quickly.

Putting on the long pink bathrobe from home, she thought,
I must be nuts to stay here longer than a few days!
Laughing softly, she slipped her well-pedicured feet into matching slippers.

She remembered Annie had said her mother would be the third to bathe after Annie, followed by the preacher and so on down the line of boys. Annie had also reminded her that since Yonie was out hunting, there was one less person using the communal tub this night. Lucky Omar would be the final one to wash off in everyone else's dirty bath water.

The thought repulsed her, but she tried to distract herself by fluffing her hair with the towel, missing her blow dryer.
No wonder Annie gets by shampooing only once a week . . . her hair is covered up!

Still feeling exposed, she peeked through the curtain. Seeing no one, she dashed to the stairs, hair still dripping. Upstairs, she knocked on Annie's door to say it was
her
turn.

‘‘Already? Goodness' sakes, you're fast.'' Annie smiled, her gaze falling on Louisa's pink robe. ‘‘I'll hurry, then we can talk, jah?''

‘‘Sure, I'll go dry my hair.''

Annie smiled. ‘‘Sorry 'bout that. We use the air, ya know.''

‘‘So do I—only forced air . . . all at once.'' She laughed.

‘‘I won't dawdle,'' Annie said, heading down the hall to the stairs.