move forward, these many unanswered questions dragged at her, holding her prisoner until they were answered. Even painting didnât help. Or maybe it seemed not to because it was one more secret she kept.
âIâm heading to the market,â Sadie said, taking off her cooking apron and replacing it with a clean one. âWeâre going to need a few more tomatoes before tomorrowâs truck gets here. I thought Iâd go down and see if anyone has any.â
Escape. âIâll go.â Lorie patted her sisterâs hand. âYou rest your feet.â
Sadie smiled. âYou just want to get outside on this beautiful day.â
âCan you blame me?â The sun was shining and temperatures were on the rise, but for now it was a perfect Oklahoma day.
âNot at all.â Sadie took a ten-dollar bill from the petty cash box and handed it to Lorie. âJust donât dally too long in the sun.â
Lorie smiled. âIâll try not to.â She left the restaurant as Sadie slid into the employeesâ booth and started wrapping silverware.
Outside, the day was even more beautiful than it looked to be through the plate-glass windows. Lorie closed her eyes and raised her face toward the sun.
She stood there for a second, thankful to be out of the restaurant, out in the open air, just out. Inside it seemed as if the walls were closing in on her. Every day they seemed closer as if they had moved during the night to make her uncomfortable. It was a ridiculous thought, but it was how she felt all the same. Everything seemed too small these days, from the black dresses she was required to wear to her own skin. And she didnât know how to make it comfortable again. Didnât know if it ever would be.
âExcuse me.â
She opened her eyes, realizing she was taking up the middle of the sidewalk. People were having to walk around her as she stood there and basked in the sun when she needed to be making her way to the marketplace.
Two blocks down and three blocks over was the empty parking lot where the Amish of Wells Landing set up a market each spring and summer. The farmers and crafters, jelly makers and pickle canners all set up shop to sell their wares to Amish and Englisch alike.
Lorie always enjoyed the market, perhaps because the restaurant kept their family so busy that they didnât have time to spend on what most considered the traditional Amish pursuits. They didnât farm or can goods for the winter. They didnât keep milk cows or goats. They didnât make their own cheese and butter. But the restaurant had been her fatherâs dream and the entire Kauffman clan gladly embraced it with him. As much as Lorie enjoyed the fresh produce and goods available at the market, she couldnât imagine her life any other way.
Eustace Chupp, an Amish-turned-Mennonite farmer, usually had the best tomatoes and Lorie went straightaway to his stand.
She bartered for a crate, arranged to have them carted to the restaurant, then wandered through the market for a few minutes, looking for treats for Daniel and Cora Ann.
âLorie!â Emily waved her over to the table where she and her father-in-law, James, sat tending the milk they had for sale.
She made her way toward her friend, glad for the opportunity to take a little more time at the market. She wasnât ready to go back to the restaurant.
âI didnât expect to see you today,â Lorie said as she approached their booth.
âI didnât expect to be here today. But Becky needed a day off for a youth meeting.â
Becky, Elamâs oldest sister, had recently joined the church. She and Billy Beiler were quite close and everyone was waiting for the two of them to announce their intentions to get married. Lorie envied the young girl in knowing what she wanted at such a young age. It seemed to be the way among Amish youth. They knew what they wanted and made it happen. So why was she so