So, she took advantage of her invisibility and realized that her family never really noticed when she wasn’t there. If it had been her missing that day instead of Naomi, when would her family have noticed? Certainly not as soon as they had for Naomi. It might not have been until the family was ready to leave for home in the late afternoon, instead of before the service even ended. Maybe not even until nightfall when she wasn’t in her bed. Maybe never. But Hudson had noticed her.
She had experimented with being gone from the family for longer and longer periods of time, until she could be gone all day without hardly a notice. She would claim to go for a walk and be gone for hours. When she returned home, she would be told to get her head out of the clouds and keep track of time. Didn’t she know they worried about her?
Worried? But they never came looking for her. When she told them that, they said she’d always been a wanderer and she always came home and she could take care of herself.
She had to admit that she had been self-sufficient from an early age. Everyone attributed it to when her mutter was so sick while carrying Joanna, that even at two, she somehow knew something had been wrong with Mutter, and it was best if she didn’t cause a fuss. She’d learned to be quiet from all the shushing from adults and her three older sisters at ages four and three. They all knew to be quiet and not cause any more trouble for the family.
So, Deborah wandered farther and farther from home. Until she ended up at the edge of a photo shoot over a year ago.
Though she tried to stay hidden, the photographer, Hudson, had seen her and said she’d be perfect for the shot. A contrast between two worlds: the outside—Englisher—one and the Amish one. She hadn’t wanted to do it. She knew she shouldn’t. Hudson told her that there would be no harm in it. That none of her Amish people would ever know.
She’d been thrilled at the idea of being special, being different. At being noticed. At no longer being invisible.
Hudson praised her and told her that she was a natural and followed direction better than most of his models. He’d paid her money for taking the pictures. He’d asked her to come to another shoot the following week. She said she couldn’t, but then she found she couldn’t resist and went. Soon, she participated in weekly shoots with him. After nearly two months, he asked her to change into Englisher clothes. She couldn’t do that, could she? But she did. And she had enjoyed it. Like being a different person with each new outfit. She wasn’t hurting anyone and was earning money for her future.
The clothes were always modest, but sometimes they put makeup on her. At first, she looked strange and felt out of place, but soon got used to her different appearance. None of her Amish community would recognize her when she was dressed and made-up for a shoot. She felt free and no longer invisible. She felt important. She felt like somebody.
But now, her absence had been noticed. Amos paid more attention than the others. Part of her liked that someone in her Amish community finally noticed, but he could become a problem if he truly did keep her from leaving for her job. It was her job. An unusual job for an Amish person, true. For her, it was a dangerous job. How ridiculous. She didn’t hurt anyone. No one would hurt her. But still, it was a secret. She certainly couldn’t tell Amos where she went. But how many times could she claim to go for a walk and have him still believe her? Or worse yet, ask to go with her?
If she had been going for a simple walk, she would welcome his company and attention. She smiled at the thought.
She sighed. That could never happen. She needed to figure something out before her next photo shoot.
When Deborah rolled out of bed Monday morning, she was actually kind of pleased to be able to stay home and not have a photo shoot demanding her attention. Last week had worn her out. Between the sneaking off, traipsing through the lumpy field and posing just so over and over, every muscle in her body had tensed up. Even muscles she hadn’t used for any of those tasks. Just the stress made everything taut.
But there was no stress today. She could help out her sisters and Mutter, or slip away and relax at the pond. Maybe she would do a little of both.
After breakfast, Vater sat in the living room with his leg propped up, and Amos had gone outside to work in the barn. The lumber he’d ordered with Vater’s permission and gratitude had arrived late on Saturday. Today, he would start his repairs on the hayloft.
Mutter scurried into the kitchen with her coat on. She scanned her daughters. “I’m going to Sister Bethany’s Fabric Shoppe. Your vater needs a new shirt, and I want to start a new quilt.” Her gaze settled solidly on Deborah. “Would you like to come with me?”
Deborah couldn’t believe it. As she stood a little taller to speak, she opened her mouth, but before any words could come out, Naomi stepped in front of her.
“I want to go. Can I go with you, Mutter?”
“Of course. You can all go. Get your coats.”
Hannah and Lydia exchanged glances and identical tilts of their heads.
Sarah clapped her hands. “Yeah. I want to go.”
“I’ll stay here and start preparations for lunch,” Joanna said.
“I’ll stay, as well,” Lydia said. “Sarah, do you want to help me make a cake? I’ll let you lick the bowl.”
Sarah clapped her hands again. “Oh, ja. I want to lick the bowl.”
Mutter had invited Deborah, and now half of her sisters were going.
Hannah, Miriam and Naomi quickly bundled into their coats. Hannah would drive and Mutter would sit up front with her. That would leave Deborah to sit in the back with Miriam and Naomi. Miriam was always a pleasure to be with. But Naomi?
Mutter looked directly at Deborah. “You don’t have your coat on. Aren’t you coming?”
Naomi made a face at Deborah from behind Mutter’s shoulder.
Lydia put a hand on Deborah’s shoulder. “I could use your help with the cake.”
Deborah knew her sister didn’t, but said, “Ja, I’ll stay and help.”
Mutter smiled at her middlemost daughter. “You are such a gut girl.”
Deborah smiled back. Her mutter’s brief attention was somehow worth not going.
Naomi’s expression turned smug before she stepped out the kitchen door ahead of everyone. Why her next-to-the-youngest sister insisted on being spiteful didn’t make sense to Deborah.
“Mutter?” Deborah asked. “Could you get me some fabric for a quilt, as well?”
“Of course, dear.” With that, the foursome left.
Lydia didn’t move from Deborah’s side but stared out the window at the top of the door. She looked a little troubled, then spoke softly. “Danki for not making a fuss about staying. I figured Hannah would have her hands full with Naomi along. Why our sister has chosen you to clash with, I don’t know.”
It was nice to know that at least one other person in the family noticed Naomi’s ill temper toward her. “I do my best to stay out of her way.”
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