Faith and Hope in Lancaster (The Amish of Lancaster County #1) by Daisy Fields Read Free Book Online Page A

couldn’t deny how good-looking this Mikey was, and she quite liked the way he studied her with interest. It made her feel special.
    It made her feel excited with possibility.
    Mikey insisted they sit down and have a drink with him, and Pamela began to say no, explaining they still had shopping to do, but Miriam laughed. “I’m rather thirsty,” she lied. “A drink would be lovely.”
    Pamela threw up her hands, smiling. “A drink it is, then! But it’s your treat, young man.”
    “Sure thing, Ms. Roth. What’ll you have?”
    Pamela ordered a Coke with lemon and no ice, and Miriam echoed that. She hadn’t drunk one yet; it couldn’t hurt to try it. But more importantly, she didn’t want to look foolish before this boy with the beautiful eyes and the intriguing voice.
    “I’ll be right back,” Mikey promised, hurrying inside the café to place the order.
    As soon as he’d disappeared inside, Miriam gave in to the enormous smile that wanted to burst forth. “Such a fine day, isn’t it?”
    Pamela’s lips twitched, but she kept her voice calm. “It sure is! So we’ll have a quick drink, chat with Mikey a bit, and then head to the makeup counter.”
    “That sounds wonderful,” Miriam said sincerely. It really did. She wished she could confide in Pamela, because she wanted to sing about the fact that she didn’t even have makeup on yet, and she was already attracting good-looking young men to her side. Surely this was a sign she had made the right decision in coming to New York?
    “Mikey’s a good kid,” Pamela said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He’s the son of some good friends of ours, stockbrokers on Wall Street. The two of them have quite the head for the business—they win big and lose small. Real bulls, those two. Mikey, though, wants to be an artist.”
    “Oh?” asked Miriam. Pamela’s words about Mikey’s parents had rushed right over her head, as though they’d been in Italian, but Miriam was fascinated by the thought of Mikey as an artist. She couldn’t begin to fathom having the freedom to pursue an art for its own sake, let alone the leisure. “What kind?”
    “A painter. He likes to throw a lot of paint onto a canvas and call it art. But hey,” Pamela said, shrugging, “people like it, and that’s all you can really ask for. Most painters should be so lucky.”
    Miriam would have to chew on that line of thought for a while. For now, though, she had other questions. “What do you do, Pamela? What is your job?”
    A look of complete disbelief crossed Pamela’s perfectly made-up face, followed by a peal of laughter that made Miriam think of bells. Or maybe someone in pain. She wasn’t certain. “A job? Sweetheart, this is my job.” Miriam must have looked confused, because Pamela touched her wrist. “Oh, silly me. I forgot you’re new to all this. It’s like an alien coming to live among earthlings, having to learn all our strange customs and traditions.”
    Miriam was stung. She wasn’t an alien, and even if she’d been born and brought up in New York City, she wasn’t sure she would live the way the Roths did, lavishly and taking everything for granted.
    “I’ll have to keep reminding myself not to assume you already know everything,” Pamela continued. “Anyway, I am married to a high-powered corporate lawyer who makes more money than we could ever use. There’s no reason in the world for me to slave away at a job that sucks my soul dry.” She chuckled. “No, I’m free!”
    Miriam tried to picture that. “Then what do you do to keep busy?” she asked at last.
    “My days mostly consist of shopping, attending charity functions, and lunching with my girlfriends. Sometimes I wander to museums or movies or sit in a café over a fat-free skinny mocha if I want a change. I also read a lot of books. It’s important to keep up with the zeitgeist, you know.”
    Miriam immediately flashed back to her mamm . She must be in the kitchen even as they spoke,