Almost Amish Part 2

"Those episodes drew large ratings. But when we partnered in the publis.h.i.+ng of Upper Crust Living for Everyone, well, the sales were not as stellar as we'd antic.i.p.ated. In follow-up surveys, it turned out that many of the viewers didn't really identify with Abigail, per se, and never felt that she changed or became more refined-she just got to live in an interesting situation. In other words, she failed to gain a perceived level of expertise."

Susan tried to keep breathing. This had to work out for her. "So what does that mean for me?"

Kendra shrugged. "It means the publisher has indicated they might reconsider the book if things aren't absolutely ideal."

"And what is *ideal?' " Whatever it was, Susan would do it. Although she was getting paid a small stipend for being a part of the show, the big payoff was to come afterward. The cookbook or lifestyle book. Recurring segments on the Lisa Lee show. Maybe her own show one day? That was the goal.

Susan might have lost her husband to a twenty-years-younger home-wrecker, but that was the last thing she'd lose. Not her house. Not her dreams. Angie needed stability in her life, and Susan was the only one left who could provide that.

Kendra looked directly into her eyes. "You need to be the best possible Almost Amish person this world has ever seen. You need to make certain that the viewers see you in that light. That they all want to be more like you. We want to see you embodying the simple lifestyle."

Susan straightened her back. "I won't let you down."

"Good." Kendra put the mock-ups back in her briefcase. "Now let's step out and get a few shots outside the house. I've just been notified the rest of your family has arrived."

"Oh, really? I didn't hear the car pull up."

"That's because it didn't. They were dropped off at the head of the drive, about a half mile out."

Susan looked at Kendra. "You mean they're having to walk? In this heat? With all their things?"

The left side of Kendra's mouth twitched oh so slightly. "It wouldn't make for good reality television if there wasn't a little bit of discomfort, now would it?"

"But you drove Angie and me right up to the house."

"We needed you for the photo shoot. And remember, you'll make simplicity look easy. . . ." She tilted her head to the left and smiled. "Everyone else will show just how hard it is."

Chapter 4.

A group of people spilled out of the storage barn, talking amongst themselves. Julie scanned the group until she saw Susan in their midst, dressed to the hilt and styled to perfection. She practically glowed.

"There's Aunt Susan. Wow, she looks beautiful. Look at her hair, her clothes." Whitney's smile was huge. "I have to admit, I was afraid they were going to make us live so au naturel that I'd be stuck with my hair sticking out in all directions for the next three months." She paused for a moment. "I don't want to get quite that fancy, though. I hope they won't make us dress up like that."

"I think we're about to find out," Julie said as the crew suddenly turned in unison.

"I should've brushed my hair." Whitney put a hand up to her frizz and pulled at a strand. "Like that would help at this point. I'm doomed."

"Girls." Brian let out a long and disgusted sigh. "You don't hear me whining about not brus.h.i.+ng my hair."

Susan waved up toward them, then hurried over to join them. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here." She hugged Julie. "Can I help you with anything? Whitney, Brian, so good to see you."

"Oh, there you are. We'd begun to think you'd gotten lost on the walk over." The woman wore a perfectly tailored white s.h.i.+rt and dark jeans tight enough to show that not an ounce of fat lingered underneath. Her hair was short and layered, with blond highlights that framed her elegant cheekbones and jawline. "I'm Kendra Stern, the onsite segment producer."

"I'm Julie Charlton; this is Whitney and Brian."

"So pleased to finally meet you." Kendra's gold loop earrings glinted in the sun.

Julie became keenly aware of the bermuda shorts and polo s.h.i.+rt she'd chosen for traveling, the unstyled ponytail, the ten pounds that she'd been meaning to lose forever.

Susan was wearing a sleeveless top the color of pale b.u.t.ter, and black linen pants that didn't seem to understand they were supposed to wrinkle. "We just finished up a little segment that will air this Friday." Susan's smile was huge, and there was something about her eyes, something besides the professionally applied makeup that looked different. It took Julie a moment, but then she realized what it was she was seeing.

Hope.

Excitement.

Things that had disappeared from Susan's life this last year. "I'm so glad we get to experience this with you." She looked around. "Where's Angie?"

Susan smiled and nodded toward the barn. "I think she's checking out the animals."

"Can we go, Mom?" Whitney had already taken a step toward the barn.

"Sure. Go put your duffels on the porch first."

"Actually, we'll take care of those for you." Kendra raised her left hand and motioned toward the film crew. "Chris, take the Charltons' things, please."

A young man stepped from the crowd. Likely somewhere in his late teens, he looked almost gothic, but not quite. His asymmetrical hair was so black Julie suspected it was dyed, and the right side dipped long enough that it partially covered one of his incredibly blue eyes. His T-s.h.i.+rt was black with a white guitar across it, but his jeans were blue and he wore surfer-style flip-flops.

He took their bags without comment, tossing Whitney's backpack over his left shoulder. When he reached for Brian's telescope case, Brian shot out his hand. "Be careful with that. It's a delicate piece of scientific equipment."

Chris grinned and returned a single nod. "You got it."

The kids walked off in the general direction of the barn, and Julie returned her attention to Kendra. "So what do you need for us to do?"

She extended her right arm, making a sweeping motion in the air. "Make yourself at home. For now, you just settle in and relax, get used to the place. Tomorrow we're going to take a tour of the real Amish country near here and see how that all works. It'll be a few days before we get serious about your weekly a.s.signment."

"Sounds good."

"There are a couple of things you need to be aware of."

"Okay."

"Anything upstairs-bathrooms, bedrooms-is off-limits for our cameras and recorders. However, anywhere that is considered a public area is fair game. Our goal is to catch some true snippets of what this lifestyle is really like for a modern family, complete with all the frustrations."

Julie s.h.i.+vered at the thought of being watched, but this was part of the deal. She'd known that from the beginning. "In other words, when we come downstairs, we'd better mind what we say, and we'd better have clothes on."

"I would definitely recommend the clothes part-we're a family-friendly show, you know. However, I'm really hoping that you won't always watch what you say. Those are the things that make for good television, aren't they?"

"Uh . . . I guess so."

"Also, there is to be absolutely no contact with any of the crew. You do not speak to them; they do not speak to you."

"You mean we can only talk to each other?" Julie had never considered anything this rigid.

"You can always talk to me when I'm on set. And we'll be sending in various helpers for different tasks. These are locals, not crew members, and they're fine. Any friends you might make in your limited activities in town or at church are also fine, but remember, you may not go anywhere with them in their vehicles. Automobiles are off-limits unless you are with one of our drivers."

For years, Julie had fantasized about a slower life. A quieter life. Somehow, in this agreement, she wondered if she might have gotten a little too much of a good thing.

"Thank you so much for being willing to do this. There aren't many women I know whose sisters-in-law would uproot their kids like this for an entire summer."

I'm the one who should be thanking you. "Of course they would. That's what families do."

"I'm glad you're in my family, then. I saw the kids head for the house. Let's go inside. I haven't even seen it yet."

She hadn't even been inside yet? "How long have you been here?"

"We got here several hours ago, but we spent the entire time in that little storage shed, which they've turned into a production office and our official interview set. They're calling it *the shack.' Oh, and we did make a quick foray into the barn, which is where I lost Angie. Last time I saw her she was petting a little calf."

"Cows, really?" Julie looked toward the barn. "This experience is going to be so great for the kids." And for all of them.

"Yes, it will." As they started walking toward the farmhouse, Susan said, "Think what an interesting college application essay this experience could make."

"College essay?" So much for slowing down. "Are you already thinking about that?"

"Of course. Angie will be a senior next year, and early applications will be due shortly after we get back. Whitney's only a year behind Angie. It wouldn't do her any harm for you to start thinking about it, either. These days, you need every advantage possible if your kids want to go to a topnotch school."

The old familiar pressure clamped across Julie's shoulders.

Susan kept talking. "Even the UC schools today-the compet.i.tion is incredible. I read UC Santa Barbara had almost forty-five thousand applications this year for less than four thousand spots. It's even worse for UCLA. Of course, Ivy League has always been our goal for Angie." Susan fanned herself with her left hand. "It is hot here, isn't it?"

"Yes it is." Julie stopped. "Won't that be . . . awfully expensive? I mean, with the divorce . . ."

"It's what we'd always planned for her, long before James went into his second childhood. Besides, part of our settlement was that James would pay for college." She raised both eyebrows. "I wonder what his new bride will think about paying for four years at Princeton? Maybe it'll make her wonder what she was doing messing around with a married man." Her voice caught on the last couple of words.

A clattering sound came from behind them. Julie turned just in time to see the kids emerging from the house, the screen door slamming behind them. Susan called out, "Hey, careful! We don't want to break anything on our first day."

"Our first day and our last." Whitney came to a stop in front of Julie, arms folded. "They lied to us."

Julie did not like the sound of that. "What happened?"

"Ask her." Whitney pointed behind them as Kendra emerged from the farmhouse.

Kendra had the indulgent look that said she clearly thought whatever the kids were talking about was of little significance. She glided over to the group. "The kids are all a bit upset about their wardrobe."

"Wardrobe?" Julie asked.

"They've confiscated our suitcases and filled our closets with a bunch of Little House on the Prairie hand-me-downs. Mom, do you have any idea how ridiculous we'll look wearing this?" Angie's eyes were moist with indignant anger. Since Angie was usually shy, to the point of almost painful quietness, for her to speak up this way spoke volumes about just how upset she was.

This was Susan's deal, so Julie waited for her to address this issue. And she waited. And waited, well past the point where the silence had grown long and uncomfortable. Susan's eyes were narrowed in concentration, as if she were trying to decide something, but she still didn't speak.

Finally, Kendra said, "I just tried to explain to the kids that those are not Amish clothes hanging in their closet. Amish wear solid dark colors. Your girls have floral skirts and puffed-sleeved blouses that the Amish would never allow."

"Mom, those skirts are down to our ankles, and they're gathered all around. We'll look like we weigh an extra fifty pounds in those things." Whitney chimed in this time. "And I won't even mention the complete lack of style."

Since Whitney was stick thin, Julie doubted the first argument was terribly valid. Given the fact that her idea of style usually involved athletic shorts, T-s.h.i.+rts, and tennis shoes, Julie couldn't help but smile at the second a.s.sertion.

"The point is"-Kendra kept her focus on Susan-"that even though this is not the week of true Amish dress, if our show is about your family attempting something close to this lifestyle, we can't have the girls running around in California summer apparel. Simple living means a simpler wardrobe. I don't think people will want to see them in tank tops and short shorts. It will totally fly against what this whole experiment is about."

"Can I see the clothes in question, please?" Finally, Susan joined the conversation and started toward the house, soon followed by the others.

Brian walked up beside Julie and whispered, "Did you hear her say they took our suitcases? That includes my telescope."

Once again, Julie found herself wis.h.i.+ng Thomas were here. He was so much better at dealing with situations like this. But he wasn't here, and Brian needed her help. She jogged forward to catch up with Kendra. "What about Brian's telescope? It was part of the agreement."

"You s.h.i.+pped his telescope ahead. Remember?" Kendra's superior att.i.tude grated against Julie's nerves. "The box is in the shed at the back of the property-we decided that would be convenient for Brian's stargazing yet out of the way of the cameras."

"We s.h.i.+pped the reflector scope ahead, the bigger one"-Brian said this in a tone that left no doubt he thought Kendra was a complete idiot-"but I brought a refractor scope with me. I want to keep it in my room."

"So you're telling me there was another telescope in the bags that Chris took?" Kendra rolled her eyes.

"Yes, it was a black hard case, and I carried it all the way up the driveway with me."

Kendra pulled a small walkie-talkie from her belt. It beeped when she pushed the b.u.t.ton. "Chris, where'd you put the Charltons' bags?"

Seconds later, another beep was followed by Chris's voice. "I locked them in the storage trailer."

"I need you to retrieve the black hard case and bring it to the farmhouse."

"What about our personal things?" Julie knew the kids were nearing meltdown, and she was going to help them if she could. "There are some things in our bags that we need." She thought about the family pictures she'd brought from home, the note Thomas had written to send her off.

"Your wardrobe has been provided."

"Well, I want my medicated face wash, and I want my own underwear." Whitney turned toward Julie. "Honestly, Mom, we did not agree to this."

Julie looked at Kendra. "She's right. The kids . . . and Susan and I . . . need some of our own things. We did not sign up to do Survivor. There is no million-dollar prize here, and I see no reason why we can't live simply, yet still have some of our own personal things."

Kendra glared at her long and hard. Without ever changing her expression, she lifted the walkie-talkie again. "Bring the rest of the bags, too." She looked at Susan. "I'll give everyone five minutes to get any necessities from their bags." Then she turned back toward Julie. "Necessities only."

"In five minutes, we can dump out our entire bags. We'll get our stuff, one way or the other." Julie barely heard Whitney's whisper and Angie's answering snicker.

She started to turn around and tell the girls that this type of defiance was not acceptable, but something held her back. In fact, she decided that maybe she agreed with Whitney. Five minutes was plenty of time. She smiled as she followed Kendra and Susan into the farmhouse.

Chapter 5.

The air inside the house was hot and hung thick with the odor of dust, decay, and neglect. Susan sneezed several times, which only drew more of the musty, stale heat into her lungs.

"It's still a bit warm in here." Kendra fanned herself. "We just turned on the air-conditioning units this afternoon. There are three window units in the house, but they're rather small and the house is a bit drafty. I think it will take them a while to catch up."