KL04 - Katy's Decision

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Katy held tight to Rocky’s bridle and faced her dad. Dad jammed his hands into the pockets of his grubby coveralls. The gesture reminded her of Bryce — he often stood with his hands in his pockets, his feet widespread. With a start, she realized Jonathan had stood the same way when talking to her at the fence. She shook her head, sending the images away. “About what?”

  “Monday.” He pulled one hand free to stroke Rocky’s glistening neck. “Rebecca’s surgery is scheduled for eight in the morning, so she needs to be at the hospital by six. Gramma and Grampa would like to be with her, as does Albert, of course. Since the fabric shop’s never open on Mondays and you won’t be working, they wondered if you and Shelby would mind staying in town Sunday night with Albert and Rebecca. That way you can help the twins with the younger kids until Albert gets home later in the afternoon.”

  Katy didn’t even have to think about it. “Sure, we can do that.” She tipped her head. “Are you and Rosemary going to the hospital too?”

  “Rosemary might — she hasn’t decided yet, but I’ll stay here. Gotta milk, you know.”

  For as long as Katy could remember, the cows had always come first. She wondered if Dad felt guilty, taking care of cows when his only brother’s wife was undergoing surgery. But she wouldn’t ask. “Whatever we can do, Dad, we’re willing.”

  Dad gave Katy a rare hug. He smelled of the barn, but she didn’t mind. She hugged him in return, hard, then stepped away. She started to guide Rocky out of the barn, but Dad called her back again.

  “What are you and Shelby doing this afternoon?”

  Katy wanted to return to the pasture and spend a little time with Saydee, but it depended on Shelby’s ankle. “I’m not sure yet. Why?”

  “Rosemary might need your help.” Dad scratched his chin. His brow furrowed into lines of worry. “She and several of the ladies are putting together a luncheon for tomorrow after service for the entire fellowship — for Aunt Rebecca. Afterward, they’ll take a love offering to help with the hospital expenses.”

  Katy nodded. Often the fellowship came together in support of a member who needed financial assistance, and she’d hoped someone would organize something for Aunt Rebecca. She could set aside visiting Saydee for the sake of her aunt. “Sure, we’ll help.”

  Dad’s approving smile warmed Katy. “I figured you would. She was hesitant to ask you, since you’ve taken on so much responsibility at the fabric shop.”

  Even though Katy was working more at the fabric shop, her responsibilities at home were less than they’d been before Dad married Rosemary. Rosemary did half of the household chores and most of the cooking. In fact, Katy had fewer responsibilities in the house than she’d had since she turned twelve years old.

  Dad added, “She doesn’t want to burden you.”

  Katy wanted to appreciate Rosemary’s concern, but for some reason the statement bothered her. Probably because it insinuated Dad and Rosemary had been talking about her instead of to her. She’d never liked that.

  “Helping my family isn’t a burden, Dad,” Katy said firmly, “and I’ll go tell Rosemary so right now.” She saw to Rocky’s needs then hurried to the house. When she entered the kitchen, the wonderful aroma of fruit pies greeted her nose. Shelby sat at the table with a large wedge of blueberry pie topped with whipped cream in front of her.

  “Mrs. Lambright’s been baking,” Shelby said.

  Katy nodded in acknowledgment then crossed to the sink to wash her hands. Rosemary stood close by, slicing apples into a bowl. “Rosemary, if you ever need my help with anything, will you please just ask me? You don’t have to ask Dad first.” She made sure to maintain a respectful tone as she said, “If I don’t have time for something or I’d rather not do it, I’ll let you know, but don’t be afraid to ask me, all right?”

  Rosemary sent her a surprised look that quickly changed into a smile. “Why, of course, Katy.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. The black ribbons of her cap swayed beneath her chin. “I’m still feeling my way with you. I don’t want to make mistakes.”

  Katy softened. This developing relationship between stepmother and stepdaughter was probably awkward for Rosemary too. She tipped her lips into a teasing grin. “I won’t keep track of your mistakes if you won’t keep track of mine.”

  Rosemary’s laughter increased. “Deal.”

  Katy blew out a breath. She wiped her hands on a towel and looked around the kitchen. “Okay. So what do you need me to do to help with tomorrow’s luncheon?”

  Rosemary pointed with her chin. “See that basket of cherries?” A bushel basket filled with bright red cherries sat beside the basement door. “Those have been washed, but they need to be pitted so I can bake them in a cobbler.”

  Katy slapped her hand to her cheek. “There are so many of them!” She picked up the basket and set it on the table. Lifting one cherry to her mouth, she said, “Where’d you get them?”

  “The Richters’ nephew — the one staying with their oldest boy this summer … I think his name is Jonathan —”

  Katy dropped the cherry.

  “— picked them from the tree in their yard and brought them out this morning.” Rosemary shook her head, chuckling. “He must have risen at the break of dawn to be able to bring them out as early as he did. But …” She shrugged. “If he was willing to pick them, I’m willing to turn them into cobblers. That is, if you girls are willing to pit them.”

  Shelby’s grin turned impish. She whispered, “Just think, Katy … the very pieces of fruit you’re holding in your two little hands were first held by Jonathan Richter.”

  Katy’s ears burned hot. She hissed, “Shelby … you hush up!”

  Chapter Eight

  Katy stood behind the dessert table and dished servings of pie, cake, brownies, and cobblers. She hid a yawn behind her hand — she and Rosemary had stayed up until almost midnight baking pies and cobblers. Although she was tired and her feet hurt, her heart thrilled at the wonderful turnout for Aunt Rebecca’s luncheon.

  During worship service that morning, the deacons held a special prayer time for Aunt Rebecca, filling Katy’s heart with hope that her aunt would be just fine. After the service, Aunt Rebecca stood at the basement doorway and received hugs and words of encouragement as people filed downstairs to eat. Katy couldn’t help but marvel at the change she witnessed in her aunt. Aunt Rebecca had never been one to openly embrace people, but today she wrapped her arms around men and women, young and old, and clung. Cancer had tried to take something away from her, but in a very real sense it seemed to have given her something precious too.

  The basement meeting room rang with conversation and laughter — a merry gathering in spite of its purpose. Every fellowship member stayed for lunch, with many of the women bustling back and forth from the kitchen with fresh casserole dishes, baskets of bread, and bowls of salads of every variety. Katy had never seen so much food. The meal rivaled the dinners that took place after Christmas and Thanksgiving services. But best of all, the love offering basket sitting on a small table in the corner of the room overflowed with bills. The money would help Aunt Rebecca’s family so much with the hospital expenses.

  Grampa Ben approached the dessert table and perused the remaining items, his lips puckered in thought. “Hmm,” he said with a wink, “guess I’ll have me some of the blackberry cobbler. It’s almost gone, which tells me it’s good stuff.”

  Katy laughed at his reasoning as she scooped a sizable serving on Grampa’s plate. “Do you want whipped cream too?”

  “Does a chicken have feathers?”

  Katy laughed again and plopped a huge dollop of whipped cream on top of the cobbler. “There you go, Grampa.”

  “Thank you, Katy-girl.”

  She watched Grampa amble back to the table where Gramma Ruthie, Dad, Uncle Albert, and Aunt Rebecca sat. As he plunked into his chair, he stuck his finger into the whipped cream and carried it to his mouth. Katy shook her head, still smiling. She loved Grampa Ben’s silliness. Uncl
e Albert was often silly too, unlike Dad, who was much more serious. Lately, however, Uncle Albert had lost his sparkle — worry about Aunt Rebecca stole his silly side. So it gave Katy a lift to see Grampa being lighthearted instead of melancholy.

  Rosemary bustled out of the kitchen. She scooped the remaining two pieces of a peach pie into a half-empty apple pie tin and picked up the empty pan. “I think there’s another peach pie in the kitchen — I’ll go see.” Then she peeked into the bowl holding a tiny fluff of whipped cream along the sides and bottom. “Oh, my, you’re getting low. I better whip up another batch of cream.”

  Katy said, “Will it be eaten? It’s slowing down now. I think people have just about had as much as they want to eat.”

  Rosemary glanced across the crowded room. Tables filled the area, and nearly every seat was filled. Voices echoed from the walls and ceiling of the basement. “But they don’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, do they? If they stay and visit, they might want a second dessert, so …” She snatched up the whipped cream bowl and hurried back to the small kitchen in the corner of the basement.

  Katy rearranged the pans on the table to hide the spot where the peach pie tin had sat. When she moved the cobbler pan, she accidentally stuck her thumb into a blob of gooey cherry filling. Without thinking she carried her thumb to her mouth to lick it clean. Just as she put her thumb into her mouth, Jonathan Richter stepped up to the table.

  “Hey, save some for me.”

  Katy whipped her hand away from her face and hid it behind her back. Her ears flamed, and she wished she could pull the tablecloth over her head. “H-hi, Jonathan. Did you want some cherry cobbler?” She quickly wiped her hand on her apron and reached for the spatula.

  His grin never dimmed. “I sure do. Spent nearly four hours picking those cherries — I guess I earned a bite or two.”

  Katy scooped a large serving of the cobbler and slid it onto Jonathan’s plate. “There you go. I don’t have any whipped cream right now.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “Rosemary’s whipping up some fresh, so …”

  He leaned his weight on one hip and slipped his free hand into his trouser pocket — the picture of relaxation. “I can wait.” Then he stood looking at her, as if he expected her to entertain him.

  She wished she could think of something to say, but being in Jonathan’s presence left her tongue-tied. So she busied herself rearranging plates and pans that had just been arranged.

  “I’ve been talking with Shelby,” Jonathan said.

  Katy flicked a glance at him. “Oh?” Clever, Katy, very clever …

  “She was telling me about school in Salina.” A wistful look came over his face. “It’s great that you get to attend. She said you’re in Debate.”

  “Uh-huh.” And don’t you sound like a world-class debater right now? Settle down and act normal!

  “I bet it’s exciting to compete in tournaments. Shelby said you even won a trophy. I’d like to hear about it sometime, if you don’t mind.”

  Katy ducked her head and tried to form a coherent sentence. “I — I don’t mind at all.”

  “Then maybe —”

  “Hey, Katydid, I’ll take a slice of apple pie.” Katy jerked her head up at the sound of Caleb’s intruding voice.

  Caleb thrust his plate at her. “The biggest one.”

  Why did he have to butt in now? Katy’s tongue unloosed. “Caleb Penner, it’s exceedingly rude to interrupt and then demand the largest portion. Haven’t you ever heard the verse, ‘The least shall be first’?” She balled her fist on her hip. “And you know I don’t like to be called Katydid.”

  He smirked. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I do it.” He nudged Jonathan. “Ever wanna get Katy rattled? Call her Katydid. She rises to the bait every time.”

  Katy proved Caleb right by glowering at him.

  Jonathan nudged Caleb back. “Listen, it’s not too wise to rattle the woman wielding the dessert spatula. You might not get your pie.” He winked at Katy. “Am I right?”

  Katy giggled. She waggled the spatula in the air. “You’re right.”

  Caleb sighed. “Okay, okay. Katy, may I have a piece of apple pie?”

  See, you can be polite when you want to be. Katy placed a slice of pie — the second-biggest one — on Caleb’s plate. “There you are, Caleb.” She caught Jonathan’s eye, and he grinned. She stifled another giggle.

  Caleb eyeballed the pie. “No whipped cream?”

  Katy held her hands outward. “All gone.”

  Caleb frowned. “Pie’s better with whipped cream.”

  “Rosemary made the pie, and it’s got lots of cinnamon and sugar,” Katy said, pretending sympathy. “You won’t miss the whipped cream.”

  Caleb shuffled off, muttering.

  Jonathan watched him go then looked at Katy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of him.”

  Katy felt her ears heat again. She supposed she hadn’t set a very good example, not telling Caleb more whipped cream was coming. Once more she hadn’t treated Caleb the way she wanted to be treated. But why did he always seem so determined to irritate her? She couldn’t think of a way to respond to Jonathan’s comment, so she stood in silence.

  Jonathan leaned forward. “I guess you know the reason he teases you so much is because he likes you. He wants your attention, and he’s found the way to get it.”

  Katy huffed. “Well, that’s a pretty dumb way to show someone you like her. Why do boys have to act so stupid?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she’d just insulted Jonathan. She slapped her hand over her mouth and gawked at him.

  He burst out laughing. “I assume you mean present company excluded?”

  Katy nodded rapidly, making her ribbons bounce. She started to apologize, but Rosemary hurried over to the table and plunked a bowl, mounded with frothy whipped cream, on the table. She slipped her arm around Katy’s shoulders.

  “There you are — that should be enough to take care of any other dessert eaters.” She glanced at Jonathan’s plate then flashed a quick smile at him. “Did Katy and I do a good job with the cherries?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to taste the cobbler yet — we’ve been talking.” His gaze whisked from Rosemary to Katy. Katy could have sworn a soft look came over his face when he looked at her. He added, “But I’m sure it’ll be great. Especially if you and Katy made it.”

  Rosemary grinned, giving Katy’s shoulders a squeeze. “Well, if you find any pits, you’ll have to hold Katy and Shelby responsible — I gave them the deplorable task of pitting the cherries.”

  Jonathan laughed. “Lucky Katy and Shelby!”

  Rosemary whispered in Katy’s ear, “If you want to leave your post, I’m sure anyone else who wants dessert can serve himself. Go sit down now and enjoy yourself.” She headed back to the kitchen.

  Jonathan stood looking at her expectantly. Even though Rosemary had spoken softly, Katy felt certain Jonathan had overheard. He seemed to be waiting for … something. Then he bounced his plate. “May I have some whipped cream, please?” His eyes glinted with humor.

  “Oh!” Katy grabbed the spoon and plopped a huge dollop of cream onto Jonathan’s plate.

  He grinned. “Thanks, Katy.” He backed up a few inches. “There’s room at my table, and Shelby’s over there, if you …” He didn’t finish the sentence, but she understood.

  Katy wanted to go sit at Jonathan’s table and visit with him some more. But she had to do something else first. “Thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.” She picked up the bowl of whipped cream and the apple pie tin and wormed her way through the crowded room to Caleb’s table. He’d already finished the slice of pie she’d given him earlier, but he hadn’t taken his plate or fork to the kitchen. “Caleb, I’ve got more whipped cream now. Would you like another piece of pie with some whipped cream on it?”

  Caleb’s face lit. He held out his plate. “Yeah! Thanks a lot, Katydi — Katy.”

  She gave him another serving of pie, w
hich she buried under a mound of whipped cream. When she returned the items to the table, she caught Jonathan’s eye. He grinned and nodded, and she knew he approved of her being kind to Caleb. His approval meant as much as Dad’s ever had. Her ears heated and the warmth spread into her cheeks. I’m crushing. I’m majorly crushing.

  Chapter Nine

  Dad stepped behind Katy’s chair and curled his hands over her shoulders. “Katy, Shelby …”

  Katy hushed midsentence. Once she’d sat down at his table, Jonathan had asked several questions about the school in Salina, and she’d been telling him about the article she’d had published in a high school literary magazine, Journalistic Pursuits, thanks to her English teacher’s encouragement. He’d seemed particularly interested. Couldn’t Dad have waited just a few more minutes to interrupt the conversation?

  “Rosemary’s going to stay and help with the kitchen cleanup, but she said you girls should go on home and pack for your overnight stay at Albert and Rebecca’s.” Dad gave Katy’s shoulders a quick pat and then slid his hands into his pockets. “She’ll run you to town right after supper. Meet me at the pickup in a few minutes. I need to talk to Albert, and then I’ll be out.”

  “Okay, Dad.” Katy retrieved Shelby’s crutches from the corner, and when she returned to the table, Jonathan was standing beside Shelby, letting her use his arm to balance herself. Katy’s heart turned over in her chest. He’s almost too nice to be real …

  Jonathan stayed beside Katy and Shelby all the way from the basement, watching Shelby as she navigated the stairs. Katy thought he’d go back downstairs after he’d escorted them to the top of the stairs, but he grabbed his black, flat-brimmed hat from the rack, placed it on his head, and then walked with them across the yard. Katy’s heart pattered. All the Mennonite men wore black hats to church, so she was accustomed to seeing them worn, but somehow the hat made Jonathan appear even more mature and masculine. She had a hard time not staring at him.