“Of course not. No one is lonely here.”
“But that’s exactly what I mean. What if someone doesn’t know how to ask for what she needs? Or wants?”
Fern set down her knife. “Well, I would say that person might need to swallow her pride and take the first step.”
Could Evie give that kind of advice to Clara Zook? She seemed so reluctant to accept help, even from Dok and Evie.
“Some folks just need a little more confidence in themselves,” Fern said, locking eyes with Evie. “They need to have a little backbone.”
Hold it. Did Fern think Evie was talking about herself?Me?She slapped a palm against her chest. “You thinkI’mlacking a backbone?”
“You washed Wren’s laundry.”
“Well, yes ... but I was doing mine anyway. Wren is studying for her boards. And I’m sure she appreciates it.” Evie hoped so. Wren never said.
Fern held a finger in the air. “She leaves her dishes in the sink each night for you to wash and dry.”
Evie flushed. How did Fern know that? A couple of times, Wren had come in late from studying for her boards in the buggy shop and made herself something to eat in the kitchen. Fern went to bed early, so Evie would tiptoe downstairs, after Wren had fallen asleep, to wash dishes. She didn’t want Fern to face a sinkful of dishes first thing in the morning.
Another finger in the air. “You’ve given her all the pegs in your room to hang her clothes. Yours are in your suitcase, under the bed. I happen to have noticed when I was dusting under the beds yesterday.”
Whatdust? There was no dust in this house!
Fern’s sparse eyebrows lifted. “You need a backbone. Self-confidence.”
Wait, what? This conversation had veered off course! Evie scrambled to steer it back on track. “I was just wondering what someone in your church would do if she were lonely.”
“The Amish aren’t lonely,” Fern said. With that, she turned and headed to the garden for a forgotten item, leaving Evie standing there, more puzzled than before. Well, that chat took a turn she didn’t see coming—like opening a door expecting a closet and finding a whole new room instead.
Dok stopped by the office after dropping Evie at Windmill Farm and promised herself she’d only stay fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, tops. The waiting room was empty, Annie had gone home, Charlie was doing something that involved a lot of noise in the basement, Wren was studying for her boards in the buggy shop. Savoring the time alone, Dok closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Just resting her eyes, she told herself, before heading home in time for tonight’s small group meeting.
She’d hardly seen much of Matt this week. They’d tried so hard to get a handle on balance, and they’d been makingprogress, and even started planning a big RV trip next summer to some of the national parks ... but it all unraveled after that feature TV news story came out on her. She never should have agreed to it.
Those thoughts flitted through her mind, circling slower and slower. She must have dozed off when a knocking sound jolted her awake. Her brother stood at the open door.
“David!”
“You were sound asleep.”
“I wasn’t!” She sighed. “Notsoundasleep, anyway.” She rubbed her face. “It’s been a busy day.” A busy couple of months.
David came in and sat down across from her. “This won’t take long.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Are you here as a brother or a bishop?”
“Bishop.”
Dok groaned.
David ignored her. “I spoke to Fern today and she gave me a not-so-gentle nudge about getting reimbursed for her three boarders.”
Dok took in a breath of air. “I meant to follow up on that.” She scribbled on a yellow Post-it note:FERN—follow up on $$$.
“She said something about getting paid to drive them into your office each morning.”
Dok nodded. “Fair enough.” That whole transportation dilemma had taken her by surprise. She would’ve thought one of them would have a car.
“Ruth, since we’re talking about the boarders—”
