Chapter 30
One week later, Patti was staring out the passenger’s side window of Martin’s car as he exited the highway in Cleveland. They were going to spend the next week in the city, and she was both nervous and excited about getting a preview of her new life.
Martin had handled all the arrangements with care.
He’d be staying in his condominium while she stayed with Martin’s father, Matt, and his wife, Kennedy.
Matt had taken off a few days of work to help answer any questions she might have, and Kennedy had offered to take her shopping for some “English” clothes.
In addition, she was going on two interviews with small companies in need of a bookkeeper.
After much debate, she’d decided to go that route instead of continuing to run her own business.
Working for someone else five days a week sounded easier than doing contract work for multiple people.
At least, she hoped so. She figured the interviews would help make that decision.
They had lots of other things planned, too. Most importantly, she and Martin would be meeting with a chaplain and finalizing their simple wedding plans. They also planned to have dinner with some of Martin’s longtime friends, go for long walks, and simply spend time together in the English world.
They’d both agreed that they needed these few days out of Walden, where they could be supported by his parents but also allowed to blend into the general population and simply “be.” Patti was excited for that.
Yes, they needed to talk a lot more about how they each envisioned their married life was going to be, but she also wanted some time to get used to all the technology that would soon be part of her daily routine.
But most of all, she and Martin just wanted to be in each other’s company. They were in love and engaged to be married. Patti reckoned she was no different from most other brides-to-be. Stars were in her eyes when it came to Martin Schrock.
When Martin stopped at a light, he glanced her way. “How are you feeling, Patti?”
“I’m all right.” She shifted, looking down at her legs. They still looked unfamiliar to her. She was wearing a pair of loose jeans, tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt. Her hair was in a long braid down her back. “I still feel a little strange, if you want to know the truth.”
A line formed between his brows. “You brought a couple of dresses from Sammi, right?” Sammi was Patti’s Mennonite friend back in Walden.
When Patti had run into her at the store, she’d filled in Sammi on her big decision.
Sammi had been supportive and so kind. She’d also lent Patti a couple of her loose dresses, saying that she might want to ease into dressing English.
But Patti hadn’t wanted to go that route.
She had a vision for how she wanted to live her life as Martin’s wife, and it wasn’t as a Mennonite woman.
It was as a confident, strong English woman.
And though being “English” didn’t mean jeans, there had always been a part of her that thought wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes would be comfortable.
She hadn’t been wrong.
They were comfortable. But they didn’t feel familiar, either. More than once, she’d pulled at her sweatshirt and stared at her jeans in confusion.
Returning to Martin’s question, Patti said, “I did bring those dresses.”
“When we get to my place, you can change if you’d rather.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine. Like I said, I’m not uncomfortable, I . . . I just feel a little bit exposed.”
“Would you get mad if I told you that I love seeing your hair down?”
“I won’t get mad.” Pulling her braid over one shoulder, she added, “I do enjoy it being in a braid instead of pinned up on the back of my head.”
“I bet,” he said as he drove ahead.
Picking up the end of the braid, she frowned. “Do you think I should cut it?”
“Your hair?”
“Of course, my hair.”
“No.”
“Are you sure? I don’t think too many women have hair that reaches the middle of their back.”
“If they don’t, it’s because they don’t have pretty hair like you do.”
“Martin.”
“Sorry, but that’s my opinion. I like your hair that length.” As he clicked on a turning signal, he frowned. “Of course, it’s your hair. You should do whatever you want with it.”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “Thanks for giving me permission,” she teased.
“You’re right. You don’t need my permission. But you did ask my opinion.”
“True.”
“At least we’re here at last,” he said, as he scanned some kind of card and then they entered a vast, dark parking garage.
Ten minutes later, Martin was opening the door to their future home.
It looked the same as it had almost two years previously. Pristine and modern, with big, bright windows and comfortable, casual furniture.
She walked to the kitchen while Martin deposited his backpack and suitcase on the floor next to the front door.
“Does it look like you remember?”
“It does,” she murmured before changing her mind. “I mean, it almost does.”
“Almost?” Walking farther into the space, which was really just a galley kitchen against the back wall of the large living area, Martin frowned. “I’m trying to think what could be different. I don’t think I changed anything.”
“Maybe it’s just me.” Turning to face him, Patti said, “Before, I was trying to get an appreciation for everything that you would be giving up to live Amish. Now . . .” She allowed her voice to drift off. She didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were.
“Now, you’re checking out your new home.”
“Yes.” She smiled, though she suddenly felt like tearing up. She didn’t want to cry because she was marrying Martin, it was that she was going to be adopting a different life.
Martin strode to her side. “Hey,” he murmured as he pulled her into his arms for a hug. “We’re spending a week here so you can really get a feel for living in the city and being English.”
“I know. I know.” She swallowed. More doubts settled in, but she pushed them away. The last thing she wanted to do was throw them both into a doubtful limbo again—straddling two worlds.
“Hey, nothing is set in stone, Patti. If you want a longer engagement, we’ll do that. If you want to come up to Cleveland four more times, I’ll make it happen.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’d do just about anything for you.”
His words were the stuff of daydreams and romance novels. Sweet, gentle, heartfelt promises that made her believe in the future she always wanted—to be loved for herself, flaws and all.
“I’d do just about anything for you, too,” she said.
“Patti, I know you would. You came here.” Stepping away, he opened up his refrigerator. With the exception of a few lonely looking condiments, it was empty. “I’ll head to the grocery store tonight after I drop you off.”
“We can go first thing.”
“Nope.” He pointed to the digital clock shining white numbers on the front of his oven. “We need to meet Matt and Kennedy for lunch in an hour. Let’s get cleaned up and then go.”
Three hours later, Patti was feeling far more optimistic.
She and Martin had eaten soup and sandwiches with his father and Kennedy at a crowded restaurant near his house.
Then, by mutual agreement, they split up.
Kennedy took her shopping for more clothes, while Matt went with Martin to the grocery store, the bank, and who knew where else.
They had plans to all meet at Matt and Kennedy’s house around five.
Then, Martin would pick Patti up for a date, then drop her off in time to get a good night’s sleep before her interviews the next day.
Walking out of the dressing room in a surprisingly comfortable pair of black slacks, a lavender sweater, and black flats, she looked for Kennedy. She was still on the chair where Patti had left her ten minutes before. “What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you look professional and pretty,” Kennedy said.
“Really?”
“Really.” When Patti continued to look at herself in the mirror, feeling more and more like an imposter, Kennedy walked closer. With a puzzled smile, the older woman continued. “The slacks fit you well, the sweater looks comfortable, but not too chunky, and the shoes are just fine, too.”
“What do you think Martin will say?”
“I think he’s going to think the same thing.” She took a breath. “Patti, you know you’re pretty, right?” When Patti shrugged, Kennedy added, “You have a nice, trim figure, pretty features, and really lovely brown hair.”
Unable to help herself, Patti ran a finger along the portwine stain on her neck. “I hope the folks interviewing me won’t think this looks too bad.”
“First of all, I barely notice it. And secondly, they’re going to want to hire you for your bookkeeping skills, not your looks.” Lowering her voice, she added, “You are going to be fine, Patti. I just know it.”
“Thanks. Thanks for taking me shopping, too.”
Kennedy smiled. “It’s been my pleasure. Plus, I wanted to get us off on the right foot. After all, I’m about to be your stepmother-in-law.”
The title sounded as silly as Kennedy’s worry that Patti wouldn’t immediately be comfortable with her. “I don’t think you have a thing to worry about.”
Reaching out, Kennedy gave her a quick hug. “Good. Now, how about you go try on those other outfits?”
“Okay. I hope we’ll have enough time.”
“If we run late, I’ll text Matt and let him know.”
“He won’t get mad?”
“Nope. None of us will, honey.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Both Matt and Martin warned me that this might be a hard couple of hours for you. You can take all the time that you need to buy your new wardrobe.”
“It is hard, but not as hard as I imagined,” Patti admitted before heading back into the dressing room.
As she changed clothes yet again, she realized that she was no longer looking at her flaws but her attributes. And was almost looking forward to showing Martin her new look.
Everything was going to be okay.