by Irene Brand
Evan’s heart sank a little when she said she wasn’t a Kessler. “You do what you like. I just wanted you to know that we’re not big on gift buying. We’ll do your shopping before we buy what Mom wants from the grocery store.”
They went to a store that had a floral shop and, using some of the money her grandparents had sent for her Christmas gift, Wendy ordered an arrangement of red carnations that would be ready in an hour. That gave her time to shop for Marcy and Olivia. She’d noticed they had pierced ears, so she bought both of them a pair of earrings. She wanted to buy a gift for Evan, but she couldn’t do that when he was with her.
Hilda and Karl both appreciated the bouquet, which Hilda took to the large dining room and placed in the center of the table. The Kessler family gathering on Christmas night would be hosted in the old house, as it had been done for generations. This idea of doing the same thing over and over every year was mind-boggling to Wendy. But she was a guest, and so for this year at least, she must enter into the festivities.
“What can I do to help?” she asked Hilda.
“You and Evan can go cut the trees this afternoon. We put a big tree in the parlor and decorate it on Christmas Eve. We like to have a smaller one in the family room.”
Cut the trees! Preparing the tree in their apartment meant taking the pieces out of a box, assembling them and putting the tree on a table. But life here was different.
Again, Evan bundled her into heavy outerwear for their venture outside.
“Victor always goes to help bring the Christmas trees,” Evan said. He whistled, and Victor stirred from his warm place near the fire and galloped into the utility room. He barked at Evan and pawed at the threshold of the outside door.
When Evan opened the door, the dog ran toward the barn. The ice and snow were slowly melting from the onslaught of the bright winter sun, and the pathway was slippery. Evan held Wendy’s hand, but his feet hit a slick spot, and he fell backward, pulling her down with him. She landed on his spread-eagled arm. Laughing, he pulled her close, and his lips brushed against hers. They were in plain view of the house, and Wendy hoped no one was looking, but she put her arms around his neck while she enjoyed the sweetness of his kiss. Their eyes locked, and the glint of wonder in his steady gaze caused Wendy’s heart to miss a beat.
Victor circled around them, barking excitedly, and when they didn’t move, he pounced on them and licked Evan’s face.
Laughing, Evan pushed the dog aside. “Spoil-sport!” he said to the dog. But he struggled to his feet and helped Wendy to stand.
“I have on so many clothes, I can hardly move,” she said.
Evan dusted the snow from Wendy’s garments, and shook himself like a dog to get rid of the snow on his back.
“I’m not a very good protector,” he said. “Sorry you fell.”
One corner of Wendy’s mouth pulled into a slight smile, and she looked shyly at Evan. “I’m not complaining,” she assured him.
Evan opened the door of a machinery shed near the barn that contained several tractors and other pieces of farm equipment that Wendy couldn’t identify. He backed one of the tractors out of the barn and hooked it to a wagon.
Wendy’s attention was drawn to a sleigh that looked as if it would be at home in a Currier and Ives painting. The small sleigh had one seat, and it was painted a shiny black.
“My grandfather bought that sleigh,” Evan explained. “If we get enough snow, I intend for you and me to go to the Christmas Eve service in it.”
The tractor had a cab, and when Evan opened the door, Victor scrambled inside. Evan helped Wendy into a seat before he settled behind the steering wheel and closed the door.
They passed through three fields before they came to an acreage of cedar trees. Evan parked the tractor, picked up a chainsaw from the wagon bed and motioned Wendy to follow him into the cedar thicket. A rabbit ran out of the evergreens, and with a loud bark, Victor bounded after it.
“We want a tree about seven feet tall,” Evan said. “There are twelve-foot ceilings in the living room, and anything shorter than seven feet looks ridiculously tiny. We’ll get one about a third that size for the family room.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t come armed with an ax or a hatchet. It can’t be traditional to cut your trees with a chain saw and haul them home on a tractor,” she added with a touch of sarcasm.
Evan darted a quick look at her. “Are you getting tired of hearing about our traditions?”
She flushed a little and refused to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that, but I’m drowning in all these things that you do simply because it’s been done for the past hundred or so years. You cut your own trees every year, rather than buy fake ones. Maybe newer things are better—like the chain saw. You’re wise to use it. It seems to me that it would be stupid to cut a tree with an ax just because your great-grandpa did.”
She could tell her words had hurt him, because a nervous twitch appeared in his jaw. He walked on into the forest without answering. How could she tell him that every day brought some new obstacle to show her how unsuitable she was to be his wife? She wished she’d stayed in Florida; then she wouldn’t have had these mood swings. She was happy one minute, sad the next. Thinking of Florida made her miss her mother and wonder what she would do on Christmas Day. She’d always considered herself a dutiful daughter, but she shouldn’t have left her mother alone on a holiday. And feeling very alone now that she’d made Evan mad, she didn’t even have him as a buffer for her guilty feelings.
Evan wasn’t mad. He was disappointed and unhappy. It boiled down to one simple fact—he couldn’t live without the farm, and Wendy obviously couldn’t live with it. He didn’t blame her. She had lived in a city all of her life, and she hadn’t had a good introduction to rural living. Why did her visit have to coincide with the worst weather southern Ohio had seen in a century? He blamed himself. He should have anticipated this situation and not extended the invitation for a winter visit.
Wendy watched Evan’s expression as he searched for the perfect tree. The tree he chose was far from perfect in Wendy’s eyes. The tree, which Evan called a Virginia cedar, was a slender, round tree with fine, short branches that drooped so much they couldn’t possibly hold heavy ornaments.
Trying to include her, Evan asked her opinion on the trees. But compared to the ones she’d seen in tree lots in Florida, the trees were scraggly and ill shaped. The second tree he chose was a pine, and the branches were sparse. But she supposed the trees would suit the Kesslers.
They returned to the farm in silence. Evan knocked all of the snow from the trees and left them in the machinery shed until time to decorate them. It was Kessler tradition to trim trees on Christmas Eve, so perish the thought that anyone would see an ornament or any tinsel before that.
She knew her attitude was bad, but now that Wendy had started thinking about her mother, she knew she was homesick. Wendy longed for familiar surroundings. If she’d had enough money, she would have bought a plane ticket and gone back to Florida.
Perhaps sensing Wendy’s unhappiness, when Hilda and she were alone, Hilda said, “Does your mother have plans for Christmas?”
Wendy bit her lip. “We always stayed at home alone on the holiday. I asked her if she’d invite some of her single friends to spend the day, but I don’t think she will.”
“Would she come to Ohio if we invite her?” Hilda said, and Wendy looked up quickly.
“I have no idea. I doubt it.” Wendy stopped short of saying that her mother couldn’t afford to fly to Ohio.
“Perhaps Evan has explained our gift-giving customs?”
Actually, Wendy had heard all she wanted to hear about Kessler customs. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“We consider it Christ-like to give to others at Christmas rather than to spend everything on our own family. I want to invite your mother to come spend Christmas with us at our expense.”
“She works in a department store and will be busy working unt
il six on Christmas Eve.”
“Well, perhaps she could get a plane early on the morning of the twenty-fifth. She could still be here in time for our family gathering on Christmas night.”
“It’s nice of you to want to ask her,” Wendy said, wondering how Emmalee would react to Kessler traditions and the large family gathering. Her own parents had died before Emmalee had married, and her extended family had never been close. Wendy had a maternal great-aunt, two great-uncles and a few second and third cousins, but she didn’t see them often.
“If you’ll dial your home phone number, I’ll talk to your mother and invite her.”
“I’ll call from the extension in the utility room,” Wendy said.
Emmalee was at home because she’d worked the early shift at the store, and answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Mother. I want to introduce you to Hilda Kessler, Evan’s mother. She wants to talk to you.”
“Emmalee, we’re enjoying Wendy’s visit very much, but I feel a little guilty separating you from your daughter at Christmas. Will you come to Ohio and spend the holidays with us?”
Wendy heard Emmalee take a deep breath but not answer. “My husband and I will cover your expenses,” Hilda added, “because we’d like to meet you.”
Wendy cringed, because she worried Hilda had taken the wrong approach. Wanting to know what Wendy’s mother was like before they agreed to her daughter’s marriage into the family would seem like a put-down to Emmalee.
Surprisingly, Emmalee said, with a touch of pride in her voice, “I’m not sure I can arrange a visit on such short notice, but it won’t be necessary for you to pay my expenses. My department was cited for top sales this year, and I received a sizable Christmas bonus from the store.”
“Mother, it would be nice if you’d come,” Wendy said. “I don’t want us to be apart at Christmas.”
She expected Emmalee to tell her that she’d chosen the separation, but again Wendy’s mother surprised her. “And I miss you very much. Mrs. Kessler, let me check flight arrangements and call you back. It may be impossible to get any flights on Christmas Day.”
“Evan and Wendy can meet you in Columbus or Cincinnati, whichever works better for you.”
“I’ll start checking flights right away and let you know,” Emmalee said.
Wendy was slightly amused as she replaced the phone receiver. She figured the only reason Emmalee agreed to come was because she wanted to check out the Kesslers to see what kind of people they were before she agreed to her daughter’s marriage into the family.
Three hours later, Emmalee called back to say that she would arrive at Columbus International Airport at noon on Christmas Day. Mixed with her apprehension over how Emmalee would get along with the Kesslers was Wendy’s joy that she could be with Evan and her mother on Christmas Day.
Chapter Eleven
On Christmas Eve morning, Wendy helped Marcy and Olivia trim the tree. Wendy considered their finished result the ugliest tree she’d ever seen. Electric candles were hooked to the branches. They pinned individual puffs of popped corn to the end of the branches with straight pins because it was a German custom brought by the first Kesslers to Ohio. They wrapped yards of well-worn garland around the tree. Some ornaments had been made by Evan and his sisters out of clothespins and bits of fabric. They even hung some fragile paper ornaments made by Evan’s grandmother.
In the family room, under Karl’s watchful eye, Evan set up the smaller pine tree, which they adorned with strings of popcorn, pretzels and homemade cookies. After the tree was decorated, Marcy and Olivia placed the family’s gifts beneath it—not even as many as was usually under the tree for Wendy and her mother. Other decorations collected by the family for years were placed in the central hallway, the parlor, the living room and the dining room.
“If you could make the stollen, it would be a big help to me,” Hilda said to Wendy.
“I don’t mind helping, but what is stollen? A dessert, meat dish, vegetable or what?”
“It’s bread,” Hilda told her. “A sweet bread, which can be used for dessert, or eaten with the main meal. We serve it for breakfast on Christmas morning.”
Hilda handed Wendy a well-worn recipe card and took a large breadboard from a cabinet, putting it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “You work here,” she said. “This process takes several hours.”
After reading the recipe over and over, and following Hilda’s instructions, Wendy awkwardly measured out the dry ingredients and the spices, prepared the yeast and chopped raisins, currants and mixed candied fruits before she started mixing the batter. An hour later, Wendy had flour all over the countertop, on the floor, in her hair, on her face and all over her clothes, but she had the stollen dough ready to put in a bowl. With a sigh, she greased a bowl with shortening, put the dough inside and covered the bowl with a dish towel. She picked up the bowl and carried it to another cabinet near the stove where it would, hopefully, rise during the next two hours.
Wendy turned to survey the countertop and its collection of dirty cups, spoons and other utensils with displeasure. How could she possibly have used so many things to make a batch of bread that would yield only three loaves? By the time Wendy had washed all of the items she’d used, cleaned the flour off of the counter and floor, she was exhausted. And she wasn’t even finished yet. Why would anyone go to so much work to make three loaves of bread when they could go to a deli and buy something equally as good?
I’ll bet Kessler ancestors would have jumped at the chance to buy bread if it had been available to them, Wendy thought sourly.
Her temperament wasn’t improved when Evan came in before she had an opportunity to tidy herself up.
He wiped her face with his handkerchief and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t find a clean place for my kiss,” he said, his eyes alight with pleasure to see her participating in family customs.
She jerked away from him angrily. “I still have round two to go on my culinary work, so I can’t see any reason to put on clean clothes.”
“Aw, Wendy,” he said contritely. “I was just joking.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood for jokes.” She turned from him and prepared the glaze she would need to spread on the finished product.
At the end of five hours, Wendy was not displeased with the looks of the bread. And since it was also traditional to eat some of the bread while it was still warm, Hilda asked Wendy to slice one loaf and give a portion to the family for an afternoon snack. The blend of cardamom and fruit in the tender warm buttered slice of bread was delicious, and Karl said, “You’ve…got the touch…for baking bread.”
Wendy knew it was tasty, but despite his praise, she thought her time could have been put to better use than to have spent most of the day working on three loaves of bread.
While Wendy had been baking bread, Hilda had prepared the traditional Christmas Eve dinner of fresh sausage, baked apples and potatoes, a red cabbage salad and German plum cake for dessert. By the time the food was prepared, Marcy and Olivia had returned from delivering gift packages to their elderly neighbors.
When they sat down for dinner, Wendy had her first sense of belonging. She wondered if this was because she’d spent most of the day helping Hilda with the cooking. Evan put Karl in his wheelchair and brought him to the table. Karl asked the blessing on the food in his halting voice.
“God, we believe that one of your greatest blessings…is the gift of family. When you sent…the Lord Jesus to earth, You…placed Him in an earthly family. We believe…His early days at Nazareth, when…He was surrounded by loving family members, helped…prepare Him for the ministry You’d sent him to do. God, I thank You for…my family, the ones here at my table tonight, but…also those who’ve gone before me, and those yet to come. We pray…that Your Son will continue to live in…the hearts of this family. Thank You for…the food and the hands who prepared it. Amen.”
After dinner, Evan insisted on putting away the leftover food, and he put the pans
and dishes in the dishwasher. He wanted a little time to contemplate Wendy’s reactions to the way they observed Christmas. He’d always thought that Wendy had missed so much because she didn’t have a big family, and he had believed that she would eagerly embrace his family’s traditions. Considering her quietness and her solemn face during dinner, he didn’t think she had.
After dinner, they opened the gifts under the tree in the family room. Wendy was touched that Hilda and Karl had included her in the gift-giving. They’d bought watches for Olivia and Marcy, a new cell phone for Evan and a set of matching earrings and bracelet for Wendy.
Some of the gifts were hilarious. Marcy’s gift to Wendy was a picture of Evan on his first birthday, wearing only a diaper. Wendy apologized that she hadn’t had time to make anything for them, but Marcy and Olivia seemed pleased with their earrings.
Wendy’s fingers trembled as she opened Evan’s gift, surprised to find an open-face antique silver chatelaine watch on a long chain nestled in a velvet-lined box. She lifted questioning, tearful eyes to Evan.
“It belonged to Grandmother Kessler,” he said softly. “She willed it to me. I remember my grandmother wearing the watch. In the back of the case, there’s a picture of me on my tenth birthday.”
Overcome with a sudden comprehension of how much Evan loved her and how unworthy she felt to receive his love, Wendy leaned toward him. Ignoring his family, he pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her tenderly. She withdrew from his arms, flushed and embarrassed.
“Thank you” was all she could say.
Wendy had debated long over a gift for Evan, but she’d finally written on a sheet of paper. “I promise to read a chapter in the Bible every day during the coming year.”
The warmth in his eyes when he opened the envelope convinced her that she couldn’t have chosen a better gift. They finished opening their gifts by ten o’clock. Gavin Kessler arrived soon afterward to stay with Karl, so Hilda could attend the Christmas Eve service.
