Almost Amish Part 13

The smell of bacon lingered in the house long after the eggs, cantaloupe, and biscuit-and-gravy breakfast had been consumed. The kids had already left for school, and Susan had headed to the shack for her sit-down interview.

Julie savored the silence.

This week's filming had been all about Amish breakfast, everything from cinnamon rolls and raisin bread to the more hearty fare of this morning. Thankfully, it had been a team effort, instead of all the pressure being on Julie or Susan to perform. The meals had all turned out rather well, Julie smiled to herself. Susan would have to be happy with that.

Julie saw the shack's door open and Susan emerged, headed back to the house with her typical, purposeful stride. No doubt she would have a list of a.s.signments for the day, so Julie took a seat at the kitchen table and waited.

"Kendra wants you to come over for an interview. Meanwhile, I'm going to get busy sanding down the windowsills. We got some paint on our trip into town last night." Did Julie just imagine it, or did Susan blush?

"What's the interview about?"

Susan shrugged. "She didn't specify."

"Okay." Julie ran her fingers through her hair as she walked across the way. She must look a mess. But she supposed this is the way she looked through all the live-action filming as well. Why should a sit-down interview be any different? She pushed open the door. "You wanted me for an interview?"

Kendra crossed two things off a clipboard and said, "Yep, just for a few questions. Have a seat; we'll get you all set up."

A stylist ran a quick brush through her hair, but other than that, Julie was left untouched. Not for the first time, Julie thought she might be glad she couldn't actually watch these episodes.

"How have you enjoyed the traditional breakfasts this week?"

"I love all the traditional breakfast food. It's not something I eat much of at home, so this was actually a treat."

"Why don't you make traditional breakfasts at home?"

"No time. And they're messy. It's interesting to me, though, since they lack all the modern conveniences, that Amish women don't cook food that is less labor intensive. It's funny, isn't it, that so many people envy the Amish way of life? We say it is simpler. But simpler is harder. A lot harder. We've got all these great tools-computers, electric mixers, blenders. All these things are supposed to simplify are lives, so why is it we believe that it's those who don't use any of these things that have the simplest life of all?"

Kendra and the cameraman looked toward each other. They exchanged a smile between the two of them that Julie did not at first understand. Then she realized she'd been rambling. "Sorry about that. I got a little carried away."

"No, no. That was perfect." Kendra made a couple of notes on the paper in front of her. "You're free to go back now. Thank you for coming."

"Sure." Julie stood up and started for the door, feeling like a complete idiot.

"Did Susan tell you what next week's adventure is?"

"No." Julie was hoping it had something to do with spending quality family game time, or something like that. "What is it?"

"No electricity."

"You're kidding."

"No, but I'm guessing that by the end of the week you'll all wish I was."

"I'm pretty certain I already do." Julie could hear the sound of their laughter as she walked from the room. This week was going to be the hardest one yet.

The kids sat around the living room, each staring at the walls of the farmhouse as they absorbed this latest piece of news. They sat in miserable silence for what seemed like forever.

"Maybe it won't be all that bad. I mean, we don't use electric lights or cooktops anyway." Whitney twirled a piece of her hair around her index finger.

"Have you noticed that it's a bit hot and humid in this part of the country? What do you think it's going to be like in here without air-conditioning?" Brian tried to spike up his hair with his fingers. Since Kendra had confiscated his gel last week, it was wasted effort.

"Hot." Whitney sighed and put her chin in her hands. "So when does this fun phase begin?"

"Midnight." Susan rocked the chair in short, rapid clips. "And we're going to make the best of it. We're going to show America that we are not just a bunch of soft Californians."

Silence.

Julie looked around at the group, saw the panicked look on all the kids' faces. "Well, let's make the best of this. Angie, what was it you were saying about a lot of Amish people moving into their bas.e.m.e.nts for the summer?"

She nodded. "That's what I read. But we don't have a bas.e.m.e.nt here."

"No, but we could move our bedding downstairs where it will be a little cooler. We could have a giant camp-out in the living room for the week."

"Oh boy." Whitney snorted. "That sounds dandy." She looked at the other kids and shook her head, causing a ripple of giggles. "How are we going to keep our food cold?"

Susan began to rock a bit more slowly as the details began to come together. "I think the original plan was to bring in an old-fas.h.i.+oned icebox, but somehow that fell through. Kendra said they will bring us a large cooler, and keep us supplied with enough ice blocks to keep our food from spoiling." She rocked back and forth. "Of course, we'll have to use caution and not open it any more than we have to."

Brian stood up and stretched. "Well, that's that, then. Hey, Whitney and Angie, you want to come check out Saturn? It should be positioned for optimal viewing right about now."

"May as well." The slump in Whitney's shoulder was purposeful; Julie knew that. She wasn't going to say any more about this, but she wanted everyone to know she was displeased with the situation.

Julie sat down with the quilt and began to sew the next row together. "Susan, you want to help me work on this?"

Susan shook her head. "No. I think I'll go scrub the bathroom one last time. That floor just drives me crazy."

Julie was left alone with her sewing, giving her time to think about what lay ahead for them this next week. It wasn't going to be easy; that was for sure. But how many people in the world lived in hotter temperatures than this and had never even heard of electricity? How many people lived in this part of the country without air-conditioning? She a.s.sumed a fair amount of them did. Of course, a good portion of California, including their own home, went without air-conditioning, but the humidity was much less, and the nights far cooler. No, this would be a good reminder for them to appreciate what it was that they took for granted on a daily basis. She focused her attention on making short, precise st.i.tches.

She wasn't sure even how much time had pa.s.sed when the kitchen screen door opened.

"Knock, knock."

"In here, Kendra." Julie wondered why it was that Kendra bothered to say the words, when she was already inside anyway. It wasn't like they could keep her out.

"Where is everyone?"

"The kids walked down to check out some stars, and Susan is cleaning the bathroom." She resisted adding the word "again."

"I see." Kendra took a seat on the wooden bench. "Your sister-in-law is intent on keeping this place spotless, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Julie felt exhausted just thinking about Susan's self-imposed house cleaning.

"Do you think she cleans to excess?"

Julie shook her head. "No. I mean, look at this place. It is spotless."

"But you personally don't spend as much time cleaning as she does."

There it was. The same old "you're not doing enough" type statements that inundated Julie in her regular life-not enough hours at the school, not enough work at church, not enough house cleaning at home, not enough time with her family, not enough, not enough, not enough . . . the words were all around her. Julie shrugged. "I guess not." She returned her focus to making an even backst.i.tch.

"I've been hearing you're really good at that." Kendra came closer and looked at Julie's project.

Julie pulled a st.i.tch tight. "Apparently I have the most non-marketable skill of any woman in our generation."

Kendra laughed. "So . . . how did the family take the news about no electricity?"

"They're not thrilled about it, of course. But I'm sitting here thinking it will be good for all of us. Not fun, mind you, but it's just one week. We'll see how spoiled we really are in our daily lives."

"I bet a lot of our viewers will agree." She moved toward the bathroom. "I'll just go check in with Susan."

Julie stood up to stretch, then went to the window and looked out. The night was especially dark, and it was difficult to see anything past the security light over the barn door. She thought about the kids and wondered why they'd been gone so long. It shouldn't take that long to look at Saturn, especially Whitney, who had long since tired of those kinds of things.

Then piece by piece, a puzzle began to a.s.semble in her mind. The night was dark. Very dark. Because the sky was full of clouds. Which meant that they weren't actually looking at Saturn, and hadn't been, in spite of the fact that they'd all been gone for over an hour.

She went to the door and looked out, but saw or heard nothing. They were up to something; there was no doubt about it.

It was another hour before they all came home. "Well, we're tired. We're going to head to bed. See you all in the morning." Whitney didn't even look her way as she said the words, neither did the rest of the kids. "Yep, we're tired." They all made a show of yawning and stretching the whole way up the stairs.

"Well, they certainly calmed down. After all that initial bellyaching, I thought they would come in with some new tactic to get us to change our minds." Susan shook her head and looked toward them. "I don't know what happened, but whatever it is, I'm glad."

"Yes, glad." Then again . . . maybe not.

Chapter 22.

By the time Susan woke Sat.u.r.day morning, the house had been without air-conditioning for five or six hours, and the air already felt thick and oppressive. How bad would it get by the end of seven days? She walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, bracing herself to go downstairs and light the stove for breakfast.

She tiptoed down the steps toward the kitchen. Normally, she didn't try overly hard not to wake the kids because they had to get up and do ch.o.r.es, too. Today, with the heat already pressing in, she thought she might give them a bit longer of blissful unawareness.

She checked to make certain the grate was as high as it would go in the woodbox, then searched for the smallest pieces of wood possible. After she got the fire going and put the coffeepot on the burner, she stepped out onto the screened-in porch. It was definitely cooler out here. Not by a lot, not yet, but after the stove had been used throughout the day, that might change. Yes, they were going to need to move their beds somewhere else.

When she went back inside, the water for coffee had not yet even begun to boil. Perhaps she'd been too spa.r.s.e in her use of wood. Reluctantly, she added another piece. She probably should just go with milk, fruit, and cheese for breakfast, as none of those things needed heat. But what would the viewers want her to do in the situation? Taking the easy way out was likely not the answer. So she pulled out the griddle and went about making pancake batter. She added another piece of wood to the fire to make certain she had enough heat to cook bacon as well, hoping that the viewers would appreciate this effort.

"Ew-wee, it's hot in here." Whitney came tromping through the kitchen, followed closely by Angie and Brian.

"Good morning, Aunt Susan."

"Good morning, Aunt Susan."

"Good morning, Mom."

The kids pa.s.sed through the kitchen in quick progression, then disappeared out the back door on their way to the barn and morning ch.o.r.es.

"Hurry back. I've got pancakes about to go on the griddle."

"Sounds delish," Whitney called back over her shoulder.

Julie came traipsing in from the front door just then. "Whew. If this morning is any indication, this is going to be the hottest day yet." She carried a basketful of berries from the garden. "Doesn't it just figure that it would be the week we don't have electricity?" She went to the sink and washed the berries, then set them in the strainer to dry. "I bet Kendra has been watching the weather reports ever since we arrived, waiting." She pulled the b.u.t.ter out of the large cooler, which had been brought in last night. "Which is not going to make the week a lot of fun, but in the long run, this will be good for us all."

By now, Susan was standing over the steaming griddle, wiping her forehead with her pajama sleeve. "You're probably right." Footsteps on the back porch announced the kids' return. "Everyone hurry and wash your hands. Breakfast will be ready in about one minute."

"Oh, sorry, it's just me. I didn't mean to interrupt breakfast." Gary's voice came from the other side of the screened door. Susan glanced up to see him standing there, looking all fresh and cool in a pale blue T-s.h.i.+rt and faded jeans. "I was just stopping by to see if y'all would like some help moving the beds around today. I heard a rumor that this was the no-electricity week, and I thought we could at least move the beds downstairs. It'll make your living room a bit crowded, but it'll make sleeping more comfortable."

Susan was suddenly all too aware of the fact that she was standing there with her hair a mess, still wearing her shapeless blue cotton pajamas. It wasn't like she cared what she looked like for Gary, in particular, it's just that she really didn't want anyone to see her looking this way.

"You read our minds." Julie walked over and swung the door open. "Come on in. Join us for breakfast."

Oh, great. That was easy for Julie to say. She'd obviously gotten up in time to wash her still-damp hair and put on some clean clothes.

"Ah, thanks for the offer, but I don't want to impose. Besides, I ate a bowl of cereal a while ago, so I'm plenty good."

"Nonsense, nonsense. We're all about hospitality, right, Susan? Here, let me pull you up another chair."

Susan turned to see Gary looking at her, waiting for her response. She looked down at herself and shrugged. "You're welcome to stay"-she glanced down again-"but you may want to sit facing the other direction. I obviously wasn't expecting company this morning."

He walked up beside her, close enough that she could feel his shoulder as it brushed up to hers. "I think you take the first-thing-in-the-morning-rumpled look to a whole new level of chic."

"Liar."

"Not even a little bit." He pulled a loose strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

Susan looked into those baby-blue eyes of his and wanted so badly to believe him. She knew better, but would it hurt just to let herself go emotionally, just for a while? Just while they were here?

The kids came clattering up the back stairs at the same time Julie returned to the kitchen with a chair from the living room. "Wash up, everyone. Breakfast is ready. Gary is joining us this morning."

Julie pulled out the chair from the head of the table. "This one's for you, Gary. Everyone else, s.h.i.+ft down a place, starting with you, Brian. We'll keep the adults on one end of the table." She carried over a plate of pancakes to put on each end of the table.

Susan sat at her place, still so embarra.s.sed to be sitting here looking like this that it took her a few seconds to realize the room had fallen silent. She normally led them in grace.

Julie finally spoke up. "Gary, would you like to say grace, or would you prefer that I do it?"

"I'd be happy to." They all bowed their heads and closed their eyes. "Dear Father, thank You so much for this amazing family You've brought to us here. Help us not to take for granted what a blessing we're experiencing right now. Thank You for this food and the cooks who worked so hard to prepare it. Amen."

The table fell more or less into silence as everyone began to eat their pancakes. The clank of fork against plate and the occasional "pa.s.s the pancakes, please" testified to the fact that the pancakes were a hit.

"So why are you eating with us this morning? I think I missed that part of the conversation." Brian stuffed another bite of pancake into his mouth, his expression showing nothing but innocent curiosity at his question.

"I invited him," Julie said. "He's going to help us move some of the beds downstairs, so perhaps we'll be a bit cooler tonight than we would be upstairs."

Brian nodded. "Oh, great. Thanks for doing that."

"You are most welcome, Brian. And I still want to come check out that fancy telescope of yours sometime."

Brian choked on his milk but nodded. "That would be great. I'm pretty busy working on a cla.s.s project this week, but next week would be great."