Almost Amish Part 3

Susan nodded, still trying to catch her breath. They entered into what she a.s.sumed was the living room. It was a fairly large area, with a stone fireplace on one end and the door to the kitchen on the other. The wood floors were old and scarred and dusty. In fact, the whole place was grimy. There were cobwebs in the corners. The white lace curtains were yellowed at the tops and bottoms. The only thing that didn't look as if it might fall apart was the furniture. Rustic, no doubt, but not crumbling. She looked toward Kendra. "I wasn't expecting the place to be so . . . dirty."

Kendra touched a yellowed wall and nodded. "No one has lived in this house in several years. A well-known record producer in Nashville bought it a few months ago, thinking he might do something with the place someday. One of his friends on our production staff knew about it, so when the idea for this particular segment was born it was a win-win. We gain, for free, the perfect place to film, and he gets the benefit of some much-needed maintenance on his place."

She touched the kitchen table, which was simple and looked as if it had come from a secondhand store. "We did take out all the old furniture and replaced it with something a bit more Amish looking, but we decided to leave the cleaning to you. Amish people are known for keeping their homes spotless, you know. This will be a good test for your family, to see how well you can actually pull all this off. Our second segment will be about the Amish home, complete with before and after pictures."

The earlier conversation still rang through Susan's mind. Failure here meant failure at everything she had left. She could almost see the smug expression on her face, could almost hear the "no wonder he left her" whispered amongst her group of not-yet-thirty friends. That couldn't happen. She would make this a success if it killed her, and if making this place clean was what it took to be the best almost-Amish person possible, then no one in this house would rest until it was spotless. She began mentally forming a to-do list.

Julie walked into the bedroom that Whitney and Angie would share. The two beds were covered with simple quilts, one eggsh.e.l.l blue and the other a soft apricot, and each had an antique-looking cedar chest at the foot. So pretty and quaint. She made her way over to the closet, prepared to calm the situation as quickly as possible.

Whitney held the door open, tapping her foot and waiting. "See what I mean?"

Julie looked into the closet, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. Then, in spite of her best efforts at being the adult, setting the good example, she began to giggle. Then laugh. Then all-out guffaw.

"What's so funny?" Susan came into the room, followed closely by an obviously annoyed Kendra.

"Uh, well . . ." Julie shrugged, and her embarra.s.sment at being caught quickly squelched the laughter. She pulled a skirt and s.h.i.+rt from the closet and held them up to show Susan, ready for her take-charge sister-in-law to handle this situation.

Susan reached out to touch the tan muslin skirt with brown and white flowers and the beige cotton blouse. She cut her eyes nervously toward Kendra, then back at the clothes. "These certainly are a bit . . . dated . . . but, Kendra, I understand your point." She stood in place, nodded silently a couple of times, then said, "I don't really see a problem with these. I'm sure the kids will adjust soon enough."

Julie looked at her, searching for a trace of the sister-in-law that she'd known for the last eighteen years, the one who never backed down, never placated. "So you're okay with this?"

Susan nodded crisply, once again cutting her eyes in the general direction of Kendra. "I think it will be good for the girls."

Julie looked at the gathered skirt in her hand, knowing how Whitney and Angie felt about them, having at least some clue what it would mean to them in a social sense, then looked back at Susan. Was this really the same woman who when Angie had felt self-conscious about her bunny costume for the fifth-grade play had taken it to a tailor to have it fitted into something more flattering, albeit less bunny-like?

Julie wasn't sure how this would be "good" for the girls, but could see how it might be embarra.s.sing. Still, it wasn't a stand she wanted to make. Part of this summer was about helping Susan, and it wouldn't hurt the kids to make a few sacrifices to help out their aunt and mother. Still, she hoped this would not go much further.

"Well, I've got collared s.h.i.+rts and blue pants, and you don't hear me whining about it." Brian walked over and dropped down on the closest twin bed. "Coolness is a state of mind, not the clothes you wear."

"And you would know that, how?" Whitney folded her arms and leaned against the wall, glaring at her brother.

"I've got the stuff." Chris came into the room, leaving a pile of luggage behind in the hallway. "I believe these two go in here." He set the girls' duffels inside the room, then went out for another load.

Whitney dove across the room to reach her bag. "Everybody clear some s.p.a.ce. If we've got a limited timeframe; we need some room to move in here." She yanked open the zipper and started rummaging.

"Here you go, sport." Chris brought Brian the telescope case. "I'll bet you'll see some really sick stars this far out of the city."

Brian's face lit up at the validation from an older and cooler boy. "Yeah, I think so, too. You want to check it out sometime?"

"Chris, you know the rules about talking to the families." Kendra scowled from the doorway. "Now everyone take out any necessities, then bring your bags back down to the porch and Chris will take them away. You have five minutes, and it started ten seconds ago." She looked at the silver watch on her wrist, as if to emphasize the point.

"Okay, girls, I'll leave you to pick your things. I've got a few necessities I need to get out of my bag, too." Julie grabbed her rolling suitcase and made her way to her own room. There was a pine-framed double bed with a green-and-brown quilt, a simple bedside table, a sad, small, worn dresser, and the closet door. Curious as to what her own wardrobe might entail, Julie opened the door to see essentially the same thing she'd seen in the girls' closet, just a few sizes larger. Blah. She didn't relish the thought of walking around looking like Mother Hubbard either, but in some ways, it was less embarra.s.sing than today's clingy styles.

She opened her suitcase, pulled out the framed photos she'd brought with her, a few books, and her stationery. Then she thought about what Whitney had said. She tiptoed to her door, closed it quietly behind her, and emptied her suitcase on the bed. She then quickly began stuffing the dresser drawers and the bottom of the closet with her own things. You never knew when you might need these things, after all. She closed the suitcase and latched it firmly before carrying it back downstairs and setting it on the porch.

Whitney and Angie soon appeared, obviously empty duffels in hand and sheepish smiles on their faces. Julie looked at them and couldn't help but grin. They might have gotten off to a rocky start, but now it was time to slow down. Enjoy each other. A whole summer full of quality time with the family. "All right, now that we've got that behind us, I think you two should give us all a tour around the barn. We can walk down to the creek"-the screech of the screen door announced Brian's arrival with yet another suspiciously empty-looking duffel-"and we need to go find the shed where they've put Brian's larger telescope. I'm thinking this place will make for perfect star viewing, don't you think, Brian?"

"By the end of this summer, you'll know more about astronomy than you ever dreamed possible."

"As if we've ever dreamed about astronomy." Whitney nudged her brother from behind.

"All right, you two-"

Susan pushed through the door and set her suitcase beside the pile. "Whew." She tucked her barely long enough hair behind her ear. "Okay, everyone, I've made a list of ch.o.r.es that we all need to tackle. This place is a mess, so there's no time to waste."

Julie studied Susan's face, hoping there was some sense of joking in her eyes. She saw none. It looked more like panic. "Don't you think we ought to look around first? Let the kids show us the barn, check out the creek?"

Susan ran her pointer finger over the top of the front doorjamb and held it up to show a greasy black smudge on her fingertip. "There's a lot to do to this place before it's halfway livable, and this seems like the best time to tackle it. The crew's caterers are providing our meals for the next couple of days, so we need to get this done while we don't have other responsibilities pressing on us."

Julie debated telling Susan that the dust would still be there tomorrow, but she didn't say any such thing. The creek would still be there tomorrow, too, she supposed, and the place did need some deep cleaning. She was here to help Susan, and that's what she planned to do. "Aunt Susan's right. Everyone take a look at the list and get busy on your a.s.signed task."

"But, Mom, we-"

Julie held up her hand to silence Whitney. "Let's get a good chunk of our work done now. Perhaps we'll have time to look around later this evening. We want things to look their best for the cameras, and besides, we've got almost three months here. There will be ample time to see everything." She hoped her words sounded like she meant them in spite of the fact that what she wanted more than anything was to set every single responsibility aside and just explore.

Chapter 6.

Susan went straight to the kitchen. The old farmhouse sink had rust stains at the bottom and the ancient stopper had likely been white once, but that had been a few presidents ago. Like maybe Lincoln. But if the producers wanted the perfect Amish household, then she was going to give them perfection like they'd never imagined.

She opened the cabinets beneath the sink and found an a.s.sortment of bottles, each labeled "earth friendly." Dish soap. Window cleaner. Wood polish. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found one that said Mineral Cleaner-for hard water and rust stains. Perfect. She sprayed a little in the sink, then left it to do its work while she turned her attention toward the search for just the right scrub brush.

Footsteps pounded into the room behind her. "Let's start with the window by the kitchen table." Whitney was in full-fledged leader mode.

Susan couldn't help but smile. For all of Julie's good qualities, domestic skills were not among them. This summer would be the perfect chance for Whitney and Brian to learn the value of a well-kept home. "Good job, you three. Way to work as a team."

Whitney smiled and saluted toward her. "At your service, ma'am. Okay Brian, you know your a.s.signment." Brian opened the window next to the kitchen table and unhooked the old triangular-shaped latch and pushed the screen outside. He repeated the process with the window near the cabinets, and finally approached Susan. "Excuse me, Aunt Susan, could I reach past you for just a minute?"

Susan backed away, pleased with how this was working so far. "Be my guest."

"Okay, women of the farm, if you need me, I'll be outside cleaning screens with the menfolk."

"So, in other words, you'll be outside by yourself?" Angie's voice sounded light. Carefree.

"I guess that's the truth of it." Brian rubbed his chin. "It's going to be a lo-ong summer." He hurried out the kitchen back door before Whitney could swat him, the screen slamming behind him. Susan bit back a reminder to be careful. She didn't want to dampen their enthusiasm.

Across the room, the girls got busy with their work, so Susan headed back to work on those rust spots. The cleaner had actually made a pretty fair start on the stains. She scrubbed at what remained-discoloration embedded for all these years would not be removed without more than a little bit of hard work. Well, hard work was what she was all about.

Some time later, she found a detail brush and began cleaning around the sink's edge. An old toothbrush would probably have worked best, but at this point, she'd make do with what she'd been provided. It wasn't ideal, but that was the point. You could do great work even with less than ideal circ.u.mstances.

"Ick. This is disgusting. I wonder how long it's been since someone wiped these windowsills?" Angie rinsed her sponge in the bucket the girls had between them. "Or painted them, for that matter. This paint is all cracked and peeling."

Susan walked over to get a closer look. The sills reminded her of a map, with cracks providing roadways, bubbled-up areas of mountains, and bare wood looking much like a barren desert. "The outside looks freshly painted. Why didn't they paint the inside, too?" Before the words had even left her mouth, she knew the answer. They wanted to see what she would do with this run-down place-whether or not she had what it took to take a simple lifestyle and make it something beautiful. Well, she was going to show them exactly what she could do. "I think I'll ask Kendra for some paint and painting supplies."

"Mom, we're only going to be here for three months. I think it would be a little excessive to repaint the place, don't you?"

"I think it'll be good for all of us. A little hard work, some elbow grease, and this place will be perfect." And hopefully, all of America would agree. It was the only hope Susan had.

One by one, the kitchen cabinets were beginning to gleam. Well, not gleam perhaps, as they were old and scarred, but they were cleaned and polished to the best level possible under the circ.u.mstances. The girls had gone outside to check on the "menfolk" and the screens, and Susan stood on the counter scrubbing the top shelf. She could almost picture this episode when it aired.

She began to visualize the snippets they might show-the before and after pictures of this place, the kids all pitching in and helping, the way that hard work could make even the most run-down place look so much better. The show would be a success, the book would be a success, and James would come to realize that he'd made a mistake. But it wouldn't matter. She was going to prove she didn't need him.

She heard the sound of the kids coming back into the kitchen, almost tiptoeing, whispering quietly amongst themselves. "How are the windows coming?" She turned around, surprised to find Julie there, too.

"Great. Just great." Whitney smiled, looking a bit sheepish. "Aunt Susan, don't you think we could all take a break now? Maybe walk down to the creek before it gets too dark to see it? Go check out the barn? Mom hasn't even seen it yet."

Susan looked at the set of cabinets yet to be cleaned and thought about her plans to clean the floors on her hands and knees. Doing this all well, and doing it quickly, was going to earn her big points with the producers and big ratings with the viewers. "There will be so many other times we can see all these things, and this place is in such need of a good cleaning."

"And we have been cleaning for over two hours." Angie folded her arms across her chest in that know-it-all teenager way.

"Work before pl-"

"I think it would be fine to take a little break, just to walk around the place, don't you, Susan? I mean, after all, that's what this whole experiment is about-slowing down, spending quality time with the family. Right?"

"Yes, and we can do all that in a couple of days, after we get this place all ready to go."

"Mom, this house will never be clean enough, or good enough, to meet with your satisfaction. We'll spend the entire time here doing nothing but trying to make this place into something it's not. Let's just accept it for what it is-old and run-down-and have a little fun while we're here."

"But we need to do this right. It's important for me . . . for all of us . . . that we do a good job."

"And we will, Susan, don't you worry," Julie said. "Let's just take a little time and smell some of the beautiful roses while we're here. Come on down off that counter and let's go enjoy our kids for a little while. We can come back and do some more ch.o.r.es before bedtime . . ." Her voice trailed off, a bit wistful sounding. "Or we just start again tomorrow-spend tonight playing a board game, or cards, or something."

"Mom, you promised me that you would ease up during this . . . this . . . whatever it is," said Angie.

"We've been here all of eight hours, I hardly think-"

Julie reached up and grasped Susan's hand. "Come on down. We'll all pitch in and do some more when we get back. Promise."

Susan looked from the cabinets to her family and back again. Taking a break now would spoil her rhythm, and theirs too, but she didn't want a mutiny this early in the game. She decided to compromise this time. "Okay, but we can't stay out for long, and you've all got to promise me you'll work all that much harder when we get back."

Susan didn't miss the kids cutting their eyes at each other, but Julie smiled, perhaps a bit too brightly. "Of course we will."

A symphony of gurgling and splas.h.i.+ng led them down the path through the wooded area and directly to the creek's bank. It smelled of moss, and all things green and glorious, with perhaps just an undertone of fis.h.i.+ness to add contrast.

There was a small beachhead, mostly covered with pebbles and twigs, with occasional patches of what looked like clay showing through. To the left, a long set of shallow rapids led to a calmer pool near the beach. To the far right, there was a set of slower, deeper rapids, which led around the corner and on to who knew where? Julie watched as the kids ran toward the water.

"This is so awesome. I wonder how deep it is. I bet we could swim right here." Whitney had already pulled off her sandals and started for the water's edge. "Wowser, it's cold." She drew her foot back, only for a second, and then plunked it back in. "I'm saying this place has some major fun potential." She took another step in.

Brian walked right out of his flip-flops and knee-deep in the water before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, I think this will do quite nicely."

Angie reached down to pick her sandals up off the ground. She carefully placed them higher on the bank, then put the toes of her right foot in the water before yanking back. She laughed, then took a step in. "Yeah, definitely refres.h.i.+ng!"

Julie looked at the scene, buzzing with joy to see the kids enjoying themselves. And they weren't using electronics, or organized activities, or even a chock-full schedule. They were kids doing what kids were meant to do-learning about the world around them by experiencing it. Not just reading about it in their mounds and mounds of homework, not just seeing it in a movie or a video. She turned, prepared to share the happiness of this moment with Susan.

Susan's right hand held her chin, her mouth moving, although no sound was coming out, and she was slowly shaking her head back and forth. Her forehead crinkled together in worry lines that Julie had rarely seen. She reached out and touched her sister-in-law's arm. "Are you all right?"

Susan's eyes regained focus, and she looked toward Julie. "Fine. I'm fine. I was just thinking through all the work we should be doing."

Julie put her arm around Susan's shoulder and leaned her head on top of Susan's in a playful manner. "We've got to teach you how to relax a little. That's what Amish living is supposed to be all about, right? Living simply? De-stressing?"

Susan shrugged. "Their living may be simple, but I'm guessing that the workload on the average Amish farm leaves very little time for actual relaxing. If we're going to really do a good job of living like them, then we need to work as hard as they do, too."

Julie squeezed Susan's shoulder with her hand. "n.o.body wants us to become Amish, Susan. It's about balance. We're not going all out with all their rules-otherwise this wouldn't be part of a television show, now would it? Besides, I read some Amish-based novels before we came here, and what captured me-and I bet what captures a large part of our target market-is reading about the small things-their homemade pies, their quilt making, spending time with the family. Not working their fingers to the bone. Although"-Julie pulled her arm away-"I don't disagree with you that true Amish life has a harder reality than that. It's just not what we're here to do. I'd say the three window air-conditioning units in our house confirm that."

Susan nodded. "I know we're not going all-out, but we've got to be good enough. Better than that. We've got to do this amazingly well. We have got to make the best almost-Amish family that America has ever seen."

"And we will. We're all here to do this, and we're all going to do whatever it takes to make this a success."

The kids started skipping rocks across the surface of the water. Julie reached down and picked up a couple of flat stones, handing one to Susan. "Come on, let's go stick our feet in, too. Then I'll help you corral them back toward the house."

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Julie lay staring at the ceiling as usual. Yet the yellowed paint and road map of cracks across the plaster helped remind her this was not the usual. At all.

She stood up, pulled on her robe, and walked outside. It all seemed so unreal.

From the general direction of the creek, a dull chorus of bullfrogs serenaded the dark. Closer by, the cricket choir added their own twist to the tune. A gla.s.s dome of stars twinkled above, creating the most beautiful scene Julie could ever remember.

This place was all so new, not yet comfortable in a familiar way, but as Julie stood beneath the sky, she felt warmth begin to seep into her tense muscles. She took a deep breath and felt her shoulders relax. It had been so long she had forgotten what this felt like.

Peace.

She remembered that day in her car when she'd thought about driving away to another place. A place without all the burdens of her regular life.

I think I just might have found it.

Chapter 7.

"This is going to be interesting, don't you think?" Julie nudged Whitney, trying her best to get a spark of excitement out of her daughter.

Whitney shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe." She'd been in a grumpy mood all morning. Julie suspected it was a combination of last night's evening-ending ch.o.r.es, poor sleep the first night in a new place, and the withdrawals from twenty-four hours without texting or Facebook.

"Come on Whitney, I'm counting on you to be the leader of the kids. If you go into this with a bad att.i.tude, you know that Brian and Angie will follow."

"Angie's older than I am, and this is her mother's deal. Why isn't it up to her to lead?"

"You're the most outgoing of the group. You know Angie's always looked to you. Come on, it will be fun. Besides, you're wearing your own clothes, aren't you?"

Whitney actually grinned now. "I have to admit, Mom"-she tossed a frizzy blond strand of hair over her left shoulder-"it was a stroke of genius when you *suggested' "-she put air quotes around the word-"to Kendra that it would make a nice contrast for the cameras today, showing us in our California clothes and them in their Amish stuff."