Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) by Beth Shriver Page A

on.” The large woman tapped her pink fingernail on the counter, waiting for Annie to complete the form. When Annie handed it back, she glanced at the information. “I can tell you already this isn’t enough. Come back in an hour, and I’ll show you how to get more information.”
    For the first time since she arrived, someone who could help her was actually offering their time. “Danke. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome,” she said, and then added, “There is a twenty dollar processing fee.”
    Annie pulled out her knitted money pouch, and as she handed the woman a twenty-dollar bill, she noticed how Rudy watched her. She still felt bad that Mamm had given her the money she saved, and when she saw the specks of flour on the bills, she felt guilty all over again.
    When they were almost to his car, Rudy asked, “Do you have enough money for all this?”
    She ran her hands over her arms, thinking about his question. Having seen how she handled her money, Rudy had to be aware of her limited funds. “I just want you to know that this can cost a lot of money.”
    Annie nodded and turned to walk again, embarrassed by his discovery about her lack of funds. She hadn’t thought anyone would find out this soon.
    “I know you want to keep things private. But you’ve got to—”
    “Rudy, stop being so logical and feel for a minute.” For a moment she wished she were alone, that no one knew her or why she was here. “I have some money. Maybe it’s enough; maybe it’s not. And I don’t have a choice with what I wear.” She let out a long, weary breath, feeling more tired than after a full day’s work on the farm. “But I have to do this. So please don’t continue to point out the obstacles.”
    When she turned to continue to the car, she saw him shove his wallet back into his back pocket. The gesture both surprised and confused her. So far the only feeling she’d gotten from him was that this was something he was supposed to do. The thought that he might actually want to help gave her a slight bit of hope, but then she thought he could also just be trying to get rid of her faster.
    On their drive home Rudy stopped on campus to get a syllabus for a test he had later that week. He hopped out, but when Annie didn’t follow, he opened her car door. “Aren’t you coming?”
    Annie scanned the area, met one girl’s eyes, and turned away. “Nee, I’ll wait here.”
    Rudy crouched down and held on to a corner of the window for support. “If you’re not comfortable walking through campus, I can come back later.” But he acted put-out with the offer.
    Annie let out a breath. What was worse—walking through a Mennonite campus or spending time alone with Essie? “I’ll wait.” And she did, for what seemed to be a long time. She fought to keep her mind steady and prayed for a vacant space. She needed a fruitful void, some place to let the Spirit come in to keep discouraging thoughts out.
    On the drive home Rudy stopped at a strip mall and parked the car. “You want to go in?”
    Annie scanned the huge cement building, countless cars, and people everywhere. “Nee, you go.”
    “Wait here. I won’t be long.” He gave her what appeared to be a small smile and stepped out of the car.
    But it was long, and Annie was almost angry by the time he got back. She’d never felt like such a burden. Tomorrow she’d figure out how to take the bus, like Essie did. She unlocked the door for him, and he handed her a bag as he slipped into the seat. “Here.”
    Annie opened the bag to find an ankle-length denim skirt and bright-yellow shirt. She shut the bag. “I can’t.”
    He put the car in gear and started for the agency. “You’re not on the farm, where you wear farm clothes. In Harrisonburg you wear street clothes,” he said, as if it were a written law.
    She peeked into the bag and admired the blue etching around the collar of the shirt, imagining what it would look like on her. She shook her head. “I don’t