"6117 North 100 East Corner Grove, Indiana 46764," she rattled off.
I ducked back into the booth and repeated the address for Bugsy to copy down. He assured me that he'd order the phone and have it delivered by that evening. I thanked him and said I'd call as soon as I got the phone set up.
"Adam, seriously, you have to get this done," he said. "If you don't, we're both going to be seriously screwed."
"Believe me, I know," I said before hanging up the phone.
I exited the booth and walked back over to the tree. Honor was laying on her back with her eyes closed and her hands folded on her stomach. She looked peaceful, so I gingerly lowered myself down to the ground and copied her pose.
"Work out your problems, English?" she asked.
"Not entirely, but eventually I will," I said as I looked up and wondered how long it had taken this tree to grow big enough to provide shade.
"Anything I can do to help?" she asked.
"Yeah, wave your magic wand and get your uncle to agree to buy my wind turbines," I sighed.
"Ha ha, very funny," she replied with teenage sarcasm. "But seriously, is that all you need to do? Sell wind turbines?"
"You heard me talking about this over breakfast," I said noticing that a slight breeze had set the leaves in motion, making the tree look like it was breathing. "And I wouldn't make it sound so easy. It's hard to convince people to do something that's good for them when they are stubbornly refusing to do it."
"You're telling me," she sighed as she rolled over and pushed herself up off the ground. She brushed off the front of her dress as she groaned, "God I hate this thing. I wish they'd just let me wear pants!"
"You're not allowed to wear pants?" I asked as I very slowly followed her lead. My head hurt, but moving around made it feel a bit better. Or maybe it just reminded me how lucky I'd been.
"What do you think, English?" she asked
rolling her eyes before turning and heading for home. I quickly caught up with her and walked silently beside her until she spoke again. "Why do you adults always ask questions that you already know the answer to?"
"Good question," I replied not knowing how to answer. "I'm not sure; I think it's because we want to make sure we understand things. I don't know. Maybe we're just dumb."
"You're hilarious, English," she said without a trace of laughter in her voice. Then she sighed and quietly said, "I hate it here. I want out, too."
"Then why don't you just leave?" I asked. We were walking more quickly now and I was afraid that Honor was going to suddenly take off and run, and something about the prospect of her running off made me worried.
"Are you kidding me?" she said incredulously. "Who’s going to take care of Danny if I go? Who’s going to make sure the house is tended to? Who’s going to milk the cows and feed the hens? I've got responsibilities, English."
"I'm sorry about your parents," I said quietly.
"Yeah, thanks," she said, nodding as she walked a little faster. I couldn't see her face, but I did notice her raise a hand to her face and quickly wipe it across her eyes, but I said nothing. As we got closer to the house, I watched as she lifted her head and squared her shoulders before saying, "I guess we all have our place in the world, don't we? Mine must be here."
"You can still—" I began.
"Thanks for the talk, English," she said brusquely as she turned and headed toward the barn.
"Thanks for the walk, Honor," I called as she disappeared into the big, white building. I stood there staring at the door she'd gone in, wondering what she'd meant when she said she wanted out, too.
Chapter Nineteen
Grace
"Mr. Wall—Adam, are you okay?" I called from the porch where I sat peeling the potatoes Verity needed for dinner. It was a warm afternoon, but porch provided shade and the afternoon breeze made it quite pleasant. I'd watched Adam and Honor walking back up the road toward the house and wondered what they were talking about. Honor was a tough nut to crack, so if Adam had found a way to communicate with her, I was grateful.
"Yeah, fine," he said turning toward me. In his dress shirt, gray pinstripe pants, and fancy shoes, he looked completely out of place on our Amish homestead, and even more handsome than he'd seemed laying on the couch in the front room. His broad shoulders stretched his shirt to its outer limits, and with the two top buttons undone, he looked more than a bit like the models from some of the edgier clothing line ads in the magazines I had sent to my apartment back in the city. "Grace?"
"What?" I said.
"I asked if you needed any help with the potatoes," he said with a lazy grin as if he knew what I'd been thinking.