Heritage of Lancaster County 02 The Confession by Unknown Page A

Katherine mentioned that she was planning a visit to the Bennett mansion later today, the waitress perked up her ears. "Really? You're going out to see the Bennetts?"
    "Well, actually it's Mrs. Bennett I want to see." She realized she'd lowered her voice and was actually whispering. "I heard she's been awful sick. Is it true?"
    "That's what's going around about the poor thing. She's failing fast.., advanced MS, I've heard."
    Katherine felt her heart constrict. Ach! She must hurry, must get herself emotionally ready to meet her mother. Before it was too late.
    Seemingly encouraged by Katherine's comment, the waitress continued. "Here lately, there's been talk that the Bennetts are taking applications for some more hired help." The friendly server snapped her chewing gum and bent over the table to swipe at a spot of water.
    Katherine noticed, too, the woman's made-up eyes and bright red lipstick and wondered if her own lashes might be in need of a touch-up. Wearing cosmetics was a new, almost frightening, experience, only because she was still learning
    87 how to apply it correctly and in the most becoming manner, but she loved every little aspect of it. Occasionally, she even went to bed without removing her face rouge and powder, for no reason other than she'd been deprived of indulging in it her entire life. That and jewelry.., and having a beautician cut and style her auburn hair. Oh, glory!
    She'd kept these secret desires hidden away all through her childhood and teen years--the longing for such things as fine jewelry, beautiful hairdos, and lovely clothing. Such worldly things, the Amish would say.
    Glancing down at her smart silk blouse and wool skirt, Katherine smiled to herself. She'd decided days ago she had much catching up to do. And here she was.., on the verge of stepping into Laura Bennett's elegant modern world.
    Still daydreaming, she touched the thin gold chain at her throat, thrilling at its icy coolness beneath her fingertips. What would Rebecca Lapp, her adoptive mother, say if she could see her now, dressed this way? For a moment she felt a stab of conscience, a prickle of remorse over leaving the dear Amishwoman who had loved Katie . . . Katherine . . . as her own.
    Then she shrugged the troublesome thought aside. No need worrying about what the People thought. Not anymore. The Plain life was behind her, all but forgotten, or so she wished. A path strewn with pain . . . truly all that was left of her past. Hadn't all of them--Mamma and Dat and the boys--accepted the harsh shunning without so much as a question, turned their backs as if she no longer existed? They'd let her go--as much as sent her away ....
    "The Bennetts seem to need help out there at their place," the waitress was saying. "You interested?"
    Reining in her attention to the conversation at hand,
    Katherine replied, "What sort of a job would it be?"
    "Far as I know, a housemaid's position."
    "A maid?" Katherine wasn't sure why she was interested
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    in hearing someone carry on so about the Bennetts, but she was. If truth be told, she felt more comfortable sitting here in this restaurant, while a mere stranger rattled on about Katherine's natural mother and the estate where she lived, than with the unsettling thought of actually heading out there and meeting Laura Bennett face-to-face.
    The late afternoon sun shone boldly on her back as one customer after another left the dinerlike atmosphere. She found herself caught up in conversation with her new waitress friend and ordered some pie with ice cream for dessert, unaware of the sun's steady descent toward the fading horizon.
    The cab driver knew exactly where to take her when she was ready.
    In the distance, the sky had already begun to turn a rosy hue in the silent moments before dusk. Katherine was mighty pleased with herself for having stumbled onto the too-talkative waitress, who seemed privy to far more information about Dylan and Laura Bennett than she'd first let
    on.
    Thinking she'd