by Naomi King
“It was my idea to make the new plaque with ‘the Brubaker Family’ across the top,” Lizzie murmured. “I want all of us kids to be real brothers and sisters now, with the same last name.”
The front room rang with a sanctified silence. The older kids were nodding in agreement. Wyman was so overwhelmed, he couldn’t speak.
“Well, glory be,” Jemima murmured. “If that’s not the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard from our Lizzie.”
“Jah, Lizzie! You said that real gut,” Dora exclaimed as she grabbed her older sister’s hand.
“It’s like us girls got a new last name for Christmas,” Cora said as she joined their little circle.
“I suppose we’ll claim you,” Pete teased as he and Eddie began to pick up the torn wrapping paper around the room.
“Even if you’re girls,” Simon declared. “But can we stop all this yacking now? Merle’s gonna be here any minute!”
As the kids began straightening the front room, shifting their gifts from the middle of the floor, Wyman stood up and put his arm around Amanda’s shoulders. “This is priceless—mostly because it came as a surprise, from the kids instead of us,” he murmured as he gazed at the list of all their names.
“I thought they might be working on something this week, the way they all disappeared into the basement every now and again,” Amanda recalled. “I’m glad I didn’t walk in by accident and ruin their surprise.”
“And the way your girls handled the name change?” Wyman went on. “I was concerned about how to bring up the topic of their adoption.”
“Leave it to the twins to see that the i’s are dotted and the t’s get crossed,” Amanda quipped. “Lizzie’s answer was my best Christmas gift. Well, maybe along with your pickles.”
Wyman kissed her, chuckling. “It’s been a fine Second Christmas already, and it’s only nine o’clock. I can’t imagine how this day can get any better.”
A smile lightened his wife’s lovely face as she nodded toward the window. “We’ll soon find out. Here comes the Grabers’ buggy up the lane.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Emma clambered down from the buggy with a sense of eager anticipation. Yesterday had been their quiet observance of Christ’s birth, but she’d spent a lot more time thinking about Jerome than about the babe in the manger. Surely God had understood, and hopefully He would guide her as she spent time with Jerome today—and for the coming months of their courtship. She and Abby had agreed that their deep green dresses were appropriate for a visit with the Brubaker bunch, and as they picked up the pans of food they’d stacked behind the backseat of the buggy, Emma felt a rush of happiness. While she would always miss her mother, her heart felt hopeful rather than heavy. Somehow, she thought Mamm would approve of that.
“Merle! What took you guys so long?” Simon cried as he raced toward them with his coat blowing open. “Merry Christmas!”
“Jah, and merry Christmas to you, Abby, and James!” one of the twins called out from behind him.
“And to you, Emma!” her sister chimed in as the trio scampered through the snow. “Oh, just wait till you see what Jerome’s got for you.”
Emma laughed, hugging the children who’d circled the four of them with outstretched arms and rosy, smiling faces. They were all chattering at once, as excited as she remembered being at their age.
“You’ve gotta see my new wooden train, Merle.”
“We’ve got White Christmas pie. And a deer roast.”
“Gooey butter cake and a big ole turkey.”
“Did you bring me some fried pies, Abby?”
“And Jerome says we can take sleigh rides today, and—”
Emma glanced toward the house, and her heartbeat stilled. There on the front porch stood Jerome. He was holding little Alice Ann, sheltering her from the wind by wrapping both sides of his coat around her. Alice Ann waved gleefully, and Emma waved back. What a picture they made . . . such a tall, strong man holding a blond angel whose face beamed with delight. He’ll make a devoted dat someday.
Emma blinked at that thought. Just a couple of months ago she’d considered Jerome bold and brash, too caught up in showing off his mules to care anything about a tiny child. Yet as he kissed the little girl’s golden hair, fixing his gaze on her as she started toward the house, Emma had no trouble believing that Jerome would be the perfect man with whom to start a family. Her family.
“Merry Christmas to you,” she said as she ascended the stairs to the porch.
“Baby Jesus comed here for Kiss-mas!” Alice Ann crowed. “You gotta see!”
Jerome flashed Emma a knowing smile. “It’s quite a story,” he murmured. “All about how everything works out in God’s gut time.”
Emma reveled in the shine of his brown eyes and the way he held her gaze as he challenged her not to lower hers. “Jah, we know about things working out just the way they’re supposed to,” she replied. “I brought you a little something for Kiss-mas, too, Jerome.”
“Did you now?”
Was his voice husky with anticipation, or was that wishful thinking on her part? Emma stepped into the house, thrumming with the hunch that she was about to spend an incredible day with the Brubaker family, who would someday be her family, if her courtship with Jerome went the way she hoped it would.
It was surely Your doing, God, because I was just a scared little mouse trying to scamper away from—
Emma’s prayer was interrupted by greetings from Amanda, Vera, and Jemima as they relieved her of the pans she was carrying.
“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Amanda insisted. “What with everyone here asking for all their favorite dishes, we’ve got so much food.”
“Maybe the table will break,” Simon cried as he stepped inside with his sisters. “Wouldn’t that be something!”
Laughter filled the busy kitchen, and as Emma hung up her coat and bonnet, she felt very much at home. Even so, it was exciting to consider what Jerome had said about building a new house. So many happy thoughts had been filling her mind these past couple of days. What a difference falling in love made.
Falling in love! Just when grief might otherwise have swallowed her whole, during this first holiday season without her mamm, Emma’s heart was dancing and her outlook on life had changed completely. As her dat preceded Abby and James into the house, it was another joy to see the kids grabbing his hands to lead him into the front room even before he could get his coat off.
“Merle, we got a set of dominoes!” Cora crowed. “All the way up to nine—”
“So we can practice our math!” Dora continued excitedly. “Mamm said you would teach us how to play.”
“I’ll be happy to,” Merle replied, his face alight. “And I’ll show you a nifty trick for knowing the number of dots without having to count them every time, too.”
As Simon and the twins escorted Emma’s father to the game table they’d set up, Vera smiled at her. “Emma, I think your dat’s day is going to be a long round of eating and playing, and then eating and playing some more,” she said as they began to set the table.
Emma placed a plate at every chair, thankful to be spending this day amongst so many friends. “Denki ever so much for inviting us today,” she said, including Amanda and Jemima in her thanks. “Keeping up with four little ones means Dat won’t spend his day drifting off in his chair.”
“And Emma will have something more than her crocheting to keep her occupied,” Abby teased as she began setting silverware and napkins around.
As the women continued visiting and preparing the meal, the men passed through the kitchen on their way to the front room. Her father sat in a chair at the card table with the kids, while James caught up with Eddie and Pete. Wyman was adding logs to the woodstove. When Emma noticed Jerome lingering in the doorway, she smiled at him.
“The kids are looking forward to a sleigh ri
de today, I hear,” she remarked.
Jerome’s handsome face eased into a secretive grin. “They’ll get their turn,” he replied. “Then I figured you and I could take our own ride. If you want to, that is.”
As Lizzie and Vera chuckled furtively, Emma felt the color rising in her cheeks. She wasn’t accustomed to discussing her romantic plans in front of an audience, but she’d better get used to that, hadn’t she? Here in the Brubaker home, moments of total privacy were rare, she suspected.
“I’d like that,” she said. Emma went toward her coat, which was hanging on the wall, and reached into its deep pocket. “Seems like a gut time to give you this. It’s cold out there when the wind kicks up.”
As she handed Jerome a wrapped package, he squeezed it between his hands, his face alight with curiosity. “You didn’t have to give me anything, Emma. Just seeing you today is a gift—”
“Truth be told,” she murmured as she leaned closer to him, “this is what I was doing yesterday when it was so quiet at our house.”
As the wrapping paper split, Jerome’s face lit up. “How’d you know my stocking cap was getting raggedy?” he asked as he held up the one she’d crocheted for him. “And a scarf, too? These are fabulous!”
“Purple rather than black,” Lizzie remarked playfully. “Isn’t that special?”
“Well, if there was ever a colorful character in our family, it’s Jerome,” Amanda teased. She winked at her nephew. “Might be a gut time to show Emma what you put together for her, while the kids are busy.”
“True enough,” Jerome said as he set his new cap on the counter. “I just happen to have a little something stashed in the pantry, Emmie-girl. It was a team effort.”
Emma savored the way Jerome lingered over her nickname as he said it. When he stepped out of the pantry closet, she gasped. “Oh, what a beautiful little Christmas cactus! Look at all of those bright pink blooms.”
“It’s a cutting from the one my dat gave to my mamm when they were courting,” Jemima said sweetly.
“A looong time ago,” Lizzie teased. “It’s a wonder the plant in the window has survived a couple more generations of Lambrights and now Wyman’s rambunctious lot, too.”
Emma laughed. “Is this one of your pots, Amanda?” she asked as she turned the plant to and fro between her hands. “I really like these colorful chunks along the top of it.”
“Vera’s been making wind chimes with some of my broken pottery pieces,” Amanda explained as she slid a blue enamel roaster into the oven. “It was her idea to press some of those pieces into the clay as I was forming a new pot. You’re the first person to receive one, and I’m pleased about that, Emma.”
“What a wonderful gift, with so many family attachments,” Emma murmured. “I’ll have to find just the right spot for it.”
Jerome stepped closer and gently lifted her chin. “Jemima’s Christmas cactus has been in that same window in the front room since I came here as a kid,” he murmured. “But yesterday, it was like I was seeing it for the first time—and all those pretty blooms glowing in the morning sunlight reminded me of you, Emma.”
Emma held her breath. When had anyone ever compared her to a blossoming plant? Glowing, he’d said. She could tell by Jerome’s rapt expression that he meant every word, too.
“I’ll be sure we have a big window on the east side of our new home so you can enjoy these blooms when it’s cold and snowy outside,” Jerome continued softly. “Would you like that, Emma?”
For a timeless moment, the sound of the women working in the kitchen and the men’s voices in the front room faded away. As Emma gazed into Jerome’s sparkling brown eyes, she felt as though they were the only two people in the world—sharing a lovely blooming plant that had redefined her self-image, just as Jerome had. While she would never consider herself as beautiful as this Christmas cactus, was it so wrong to believe that Jerome thought she was?
Maybe beauty really was in the eye of the beholder. And maybe Jerome could help her see herself—her entire life—through fresh eyes. She trusted him now and believed that his intentions for their future were as honorable as they were exciting.
Emma let out the breath she’d been holding. Jerome had just asked her a very sweet question, after all. While she’d known times when fear and self-doubt would have made her hesitate, now she smiled brightly. “I would like that, Jerome,” she whispered. “I’d like it very much.”
Photo © 2010 by Thomas R. Piper
Drawing upon her experiences in Jamesport, Missouri, the largest Old Order Amish community west of the Mississippi, longtime Missourian Naomi King writes of simpler times in her Home at Cedar Creek and One Big Happy Family series. When she’s not writing, she loves to travel, try new recipes, crochet, and sew. Naomi now lives in Minnesota with her husband and their Border collie, Ramona. Write to her at: P.O. Box 18731, West St. Paul, MN 55118.
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