Free A Simple Hope: A Lancaster Crossroads Novel by Rosalind Lauer Page B

in.”
    Shandell spoke through the muslin. “Thank you. I … I really need a break from him.”
    “I’ll say. He talks sweet, but I wouldn’t trust him. He made off with two bars of lavender soap. Tucked them right up under his shirt.”
    “He did? I’m so sorry.” Shandell thought of the few dollar bills she had hidden in a pocket of her backpack. “I’ll pay you for them.”
    “No need,” Elsie said. “From the looks of him, I reckon he could put the soap to good use.”
    A few minutes later, Shandell still felt shaky as she emerged from her fabric cocoon. Elsie peered into the storeroom while she was smoothing out the muslin and wrapping it neatly.
    “I can’t thank you enough.” Shandell replaced the bolt of fabric and stepped back into the shop, where the Amish man was tending to customers. She kept her voice low, not wanting to make a scene. “Really. I … I had to get away from him.”
    Elsie nodded, her brown eyes wide with concern. “How will you get back home? Baltimore is too far to walk.”
    “I’m hoping my mom will come pick me up.” Shandell swallowed against the knot in her throat. That was going to be a difficult phone call to make, but she was ready to apologize. “I want to go home,” she said, her voice raspy with emotion.
    “I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Elsie patted her shoulder, her brown eyes aglow with concern. “Do you have a cell phone to make your call?”
    The Amish woman was kind, even motherly, though she seemed young to have children herself. “I do, but the battery ran out.” She hadn’t thought about bringing the charger, and she couldn’t afford to buy a new one.
    “Then use our phone. We just got it. The bishop allows shop phones if the wiring is already there.” Elsie pointed to a white phone hanging on the wall over a tidy little desk in the storeroom.
    Swallowing back her nerves, Shandell picked up the handset and punched in the number. It was late afternoon, almost suppertime, and she imagined her mom in the kitchen, the scent of roasted chicken in the air and a wispy cloud of steam rising from a pot on the stove.
    As it rang, she rehearsed her apology.
Mom, I’m sorry for the bad choices I made. I should never have argued with you. I’m sorry about failing math. Give me a chance to fix things. I’ll make it better …
    The line clicked, but the low snarl wasn’t her mother. “Hello?”
    “Phil …” Disappointment tugged at her. “It’s Shandell.”
    “Shandell who?” He slurred her name, but the malice in his voice was sharp and clear.
    “I know that’s a joke, but right now I don’t feel much like laughing. I was hoping to talk to Mom.”
    “She’s not here. She’s working the laundry. Trying to pay the bills.
Your
bills.”
    “I’m sorry, Phil. About everything.” It hurt her to think of him sitting there in the folds of the couch, tossing back a beer, while their family was crumbling like a cookie. “But I need to talk to Mom. I … I’ll call her on her cell.” She should have done that in the first place.
    “Good luck with that,” Phil Darby said. “There’s no cell phone reception in that laundry. Besides, she couldn’t talk with you, even if she wanted to. She’s got a job to do. A job. That’s what you need, instead of whining over school. When are you going to wise up?”
    A wave of remorse swept through her when she thought of the mistakes she’d made. Granted, she had been trying hard in school, and the math grade wasn’t her fault. But instead of shutting down and letting herself fail, she should have stood up and gotten help. She should have appreciated the support her parents gave her—good food and a roof over her head. And then it had been wrong to cut off Mom, the only person who was really on her side. Instead, she had jumped in Gary’s car, dazzled by the thought of adventure. She’d actually thought that a few days at his sister’s house would be like a vacation.
    What an idiot she was!