Almost Amish Part 24

Angie grinned up at her. "Yeah. Charlotte's been helping me tighten up my plot."

"But why is she helping you now? You must have entered this thing months ago, right?"

"Yes, but the judges for the final rounds are editors and agents. In the rare event that I should actually win my category, they may request the full ma.n.u.script. It's not completed yet, but I want to have it as close as possible, just in case."

Susan put her hand over her heart, almost to prove to herself it was still beating. "I'm at a complete loss here. I had no idea."

"Are you mad?" Angie's head was ducked, but she looked at Susan through the top of her eyelashes.

"Well, I'm shocked. And stunned. Floored? Probably. But mad? No, honey, I'm thrilled. Truly, truly thrilled. I just had no idea you were even interested in writing. Why have you never said anything to me about it?"

"You always get mad at me for wasting time when you find me reading a novel not a.s.signed for homework. I a.s.sumed that writing one would be considered even more of a waste of time."

In that moment, the hammer fell. The reality of things Susan had never acknowledged or even understood before. She had lost all clue of who her daughter was. Her vision blurred, but she blinked hard and fast. She was not going to cry right here, in front of everyone. "Honey, I am so sorry. I had no idea. I've been so wrapped up in my own plans for your life that I've completely forgotten to listen to you, haven't I?"

Whitney made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Don't worry about it, Aunt Susan. We're teenagers. No one ever listens to us." She tilted her head to the side. "I think it's a denial thing, because it's embarra.s.sing to grown-ups that we're so much smarter than they are."

The entire table burst into laughter except for Whitney. She looked around and said, "What? What did I say?"

After dinner, Gary leaned toward Susan and whispered, "Can we talk privately for a second?"

"Sure." They walked to the back part of the room, where no one was sitting at the tables. She turned to him. "What is it?"

"Well, here's the thing. The *entertainment' "-he put air quotes around the word-"I had planned for this evening . . ." He looked back toward the table. "Well, it was to go see this Christian rock band that is performing in town tonight."

"That sounds great. It's probably the one kind of rock music I can stand, and the kids will love it."

"Well, when I made these plans I didn't understand the full extent of what has been going on with your family. You see . . . the lead singer is Chris. I don't want to do anything that would seem like I'm taking sides against you."

"Chris? As in production-a.s.sistant Chris?"

"The very one."

"He's in a Christian rock band?"

"An up-and-coming Christian rock band. In fact, that's his new job. Rumor is they've just landed a recording contract."

Susan looked back at Angie. "She never told me any of this."

"I'm sure she doesn't know about the contract. He's a very humble person and probably would consider it bragging. And . . . well, she wouldn't have told you anyway. Seems like *rock star' probably isn't an approved career in your mind. Plus, she's a teenager. They don't tell you everything, especially when boys are involved. Trust me, I've been there."

"How old are your kids?"

"Twenty-seven and twenty-four."

"Both out of college?"

"Yep. My oldest daughter went to the University of Tennessee; my youngest just got her master's from Vanderbilt."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Susan said. "I hope I can keep it together long enough to get Angie to that point. You must be really proud."

"Oh, I am. I think she is amazing. You know her, too."

"I do?"

"Charlotte. The kids' tutor."

Susan froze. Instantly, she thought of every moment she'd made disparaging comments about Char in front of him over the last few weeks. And how could a small-town Tennessee farmer afford to pay Vanderbilt tuition? He must have sacrificed so much.

She sighed. She had lived too long in the world only as she wanted to see it. "As of this very moment, I vow to no longer operate on preconceived notions of people. And I think the best place to start is tonight, by going to see Chris's band."

"Good for you." He nodded, then started back toward the group.

Susan c.o.c.ked her head. "How did Angie convince you to set this up?"

"She didn't." He stopped. "She doesn't know a thing about it."

Chapter 38.

Early the next morning, Susan put wood in the stove, wondering if this would be her last time. Good riddance to that. But everything else? So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that she wasn't sure how she'd feel once the final decision was made. She walked over to the dish drain and picked up the coffeepot, but as she did, the lid slipped off and went clattering across the kitchen floor.

"Knock, knock."

Susan jumped at the voice. She looked up at Kendra. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm not surprised, given the racket you were making with the coffeepot." There was nothing in Kendra's expression that hinted at what kind of news she brought.

Susan had no intention of playing games, so she put the lid on the counter and simply said, "Well?"

"Why don't you get dressed and come over to the shack. We're going to film our conversation."

"No." Susan let the one-word answer find its mark.

Kendra simply looked at her for a long time, as if determined not to speak first. "You mind telling me why not?"

"Why are you filming the conversation? So you can give it to your lawyers?" She gestured at the walls and ceilings. "We are being filmed right now, so what's the point of going over there? So you can make one last episode out of it? Like I said, I am no longer a part of this show if you are intent on showing that footage of my conversation with my daughter. I need you to tell me now whether or not we should pack our bags."

Kendra put her hands on the edge of the counter behind her and leaned back. "Listen, I want you to save all this pa.s.sion for the on-screen interview, so I don't want to tell you everything now. But I believe that you will be more than happy with our conversation once we get over there. There will be no lawyers involved; I can promise you that. Now, can you get dressed and come over as quickly as possible, please? We want to air this footage as soon as possible. Like three hours ago."

Had Kendra actually used the word *please'? Susan didn't think she'd ever heard that word from her before. It could be a trick, but what did she have to lose at this point? "All right. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good." Kendra turned and walked out.

Susan couldn't help but smile as she hurried up the stairs. Still, she didn't want to get too overly confident, because she still didn't know what the terms might be, and Kendra had proven to be less than reliable. But there was hope, and that was something she was more than grateful for. Even if it meant cooking on a wood stove for the rest of the time.

When she sat down in the chair, the stylist took extra care making certain her hair was just right and her makeup perfect. Instead of taking her usual spot behind the camera, Kendra came to sit on an arm chair that had been newly installed adjacent to the couch. She nodded toward the camera, then turned toward Susan. "So . . . we've had a bit of a conflict this week, haven't we?"

"Yes." Susan didn't want to say more, still uncertain how that might go.

"Would you mind explaining, in your own words, what it was all about?"

"Well"-Susan looked toward the camera, her heart pounding-"my daughter and I had a disagreement this week, a big one. I'm certain all parents of teenagers have experienced this to some degree or another. When it all came to a head, we sat at the kitchen table and had a very long, very meaningful talk-the kind of talk where you don't hold anything back." Susan shifted in her seat, trying to think a few steps ahead to what she should and shouldn't say.

"We were both so upset during the conflict that we failed to think about the cameras that are in the farmhouse, so we talked about some deeply personal things that we would not want anyone else to know, and we certainly wouldn't want all of America to know." She cast a pointed glance toward Kendra. "The next morning we became aware that not only had the episode been filmed, but it was going to be the prime footage for the next episode."

"And how did you respond to that?"

"I was furious, of course. Aside from the embarra.s.sment it would cause to me and especially my daughter, everything that we had worked through the night before, all the gains that we'd made, were going to be ruined."

"And you threatened to leave the show if we used it, correct?"

This was beginning to feel more like a setup than an episode, but Susan couldn't quite make herself hold back. "It wasn't a threat; it was a fact."

Kendra nodded. "You were hoping that this show might help you build your career as an author of cookbooks and lifestyle books."

"I certainly was hoping that it would at least make the public aware of what I've done, what I'm doing."

"You'd sign with a major publisher and there had been plans about you hosting regular segments on the Lisa Lee show."

"Yes, that was the hope."

"What would giving that up mean to you and your family?"

"It means I'll have to sell my house. I'll have to find a job that will at least make the rent for us and figure out something else to do with my life."

"And you are willing to give all that up over one disagreement with the producers?"

"I am willing to give all that up to protect my daughter in any way I can."

Kendra looked at the cameraman. "Perfect. Cut. That's exactly what we need."

Cold dread filled Susan. What had just happened? "I think it's time you explain to me what this is all about."

"Here's the thing. Over the last twenty-four hours we've been running an ad showing you threatening to walk out because of something we were going to show about your daughter."

"Yes, I know." Susan didn't offer any more information than that, and continued to look Kendra evenly in the eye.

"Well, the feedback has been amazing and instantaneous. Your approval rating has gone through the roof. We've received thousands of texts and calls all supporting you. The Facebook page has never received that much traffic. It's like they all needed to see the side of you that was doing what was best for your daughter."

"I always do what is best for my daughter."

"That may be true, but to our viewers some of that comes across as being overly pushy toward, and on behalf of, your daughter. This"-Kendra gestured toward her-"this was going to cost you and your daughter many things, the kind of things that you are usually fighting to gain. And yet you were willing to give it up to protect something you felt was more important. This one was from the heart. America loves it."

"All those other things are from the heart, too." Susan stood up to go.

"Maybe that's the way you see it, but the people you are steamrolling in the process and the people watching them get steamrolled don't necessarily see it that way."

"I do not . . ." Susan stopped. She wouldn't defend herself. Instead, she was going to spend some time thinking about what she'd just been told. "About the footage?"

Kendra waved dismissively. "It's gone. Done. We don't need it when we've got something better to show."

Susan walked back to the farmhouse, and with each step she began to question her entire reason for being. Everything she thought she'd known about herself had proven wrong.

She'd always thought she was one of the best wives around, but James's leaving called that into question. She had told herself it wasn't her doing, it was his, and she knew that was true in a lot of ways. Regardless of whether or not she'd been a less than perfect wife, cheating was not an acceptable response.

In the aftermath she had comforted herself with the fact that at least she was the best possible mother. Now she knew that she had totally missed almost everything about Angie that was important, because she was too busy pushing her own agenda. What else was she missing?

She began to think about the one area of her life that had yet to feel the shake-up. She was pretty certain something was missing there, too. A small idea began to grow in the back of her mind. She would get through the morning breakfast and then make an excuse to get away from everyone for a while. This one was going to require some time alone in prayer.

The kitchen door flew open. "Well? What happened?" Julie's forehead wrinkled in concentration.

"Long story. Short version: we are staying."

Teenaged cheers erupted from behind Julie. "Woo-hoo!"

Susan sat down to remove her boots, but called out loudly enough to be heard in the kitchen. "Which means, barn ch.o.r.es. Now."

The kids piled out onto the porch and sat beside her. "Good job, Aunt Susan." Whitney laced up her boots. "I knew you could handle 'em."

"I never had a doubt." Brian nodded slowly as he made this p.r.o.nouncement.

Angie reached over and hugged her. "I love you, Mom." She stood then, and followed her cousins out the door for the morning ch.o.r.es.

They were staying.

It should have been a relief, but that's not what Julie felt. She didn't feel surprised at all, and it worried her. She realized she'd never let herself think about leaving. Even with the imminent threat, she hadn't planned on going home for one second. It would've been too hard to take.

Thankfully, for now at least, she could keep pretending.

Back in the kitchen after Susan's announcement, the families had gathered for breakfast and it seemed like a good time to plan the day.

"There's no school today," Julie said, "so the three of you get to hang out with your mothers today."

"That sounds"-Whitney pulled her elbow out to the side, made a fist, pumped her arm back and forth like a jaunty pirate-"just grand. Nothing we'd rather do than spend every waking moment with our dear old moms, right guys?"

Angie giggled but didn't say anything. Brian mumbled, "Oh boy," and took another bite of cinnamon bread.

"But actually, Mother dearest, we have already thought up a plan for what we might want to do this week, if it's all right with everyone, that is."

"And what would that be?"

"Well, you know how Angie has read a bunch of Amish fiction? She says they all talk about the women getting together to help each other out with things, you know, like quilting, for instance."