It had taken a few nights, but Charlotte finally had found time to look over clothing ideas with Emily.
Wednesday had been occupied with laundry and a much-needed house cleaning, and today she had to catch up on her baking and get some extra work done with Madison. Then Pete needed her help outside, and she had taken the girls with her. And so the days slipped through her fingers.
But when Emily came home from school in yet another funk, Charlotte put off making supper and mustered a bit more energy to sit by the computer so her granddaughter could show her some clothes.
“Slow down a little,” she said to Emily. “I can’t see what’s going on.”
“We can skip these. They’re just dresses.” Emily flapped her hand at the computer, dismissing them. “I want to show you this cute top.”
Charlotte felt like closing her eyes as more images rolled past in lightning succession.
“Here. That’s the one I want to make.”
The scrolling had stopped and Emily pointed to a loose top with a complicated-looking yoke. “I didn’t find a pattern like it at Aunt Rosemary’s shop or material that I liked, but a friend was telling me about a really cool place in Harding. This lady sells really unique patterns and has some cool material.”
“That’s a pretty shirt,” Jennifer said, crawling onto Charlotte’s lap to see what they were doing.
Emily leaned back in the office chair as if to get a better look at the shirt. “This top officially rocks.”
“As opposed to unofficially?” Charlotte asked, daring to tease her granddaughter.
“Totally opposed.” Emily shot her grandmother a puzzled glance. “Can you make this one?”
Charlotte glanced at the skimpy shirt. “Well, it won’t take much material.”
“What do you mean?”
Charlotte stifled a sigh. She should have known Emily would pick up the sardonic tone. “It looks a bit revealing. Not really a winter outfit.”
Emily grabbed the mouse and plunked it down on the pad. “Okay. I get it. You just don’t like what I like.”
“I like it,” Jennifer said, licking her lips.
Charlotte lifted her apron and wiped away a smear at the corner of Jennifer’s mouth. It looked suspiciously like chocolate. “Have you been sneaking cookies again?” she asked, in a mock horrified voice.
“Sam gave it to me,” Jennifer said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, belatedly erasing the evidence. “He told me not to tell you or Madison.”
Though Charlotte was thankful Sam was at least acknowledging Jennifer’s presence, she would have to talk to him about favoring one sister over the other.
“Where is Madison?”
Jennifer gave a shrug, leaning closer to the picture on the computer screen.
Charlotte set Jennifer on the chair beside Emily, who was frowning at the computer, scrolling and clicking, looking for more clothing ideas. “I’m going to check on Madison,” she told Emily.
Charlotte took Emily’s frown and faint grunt as a response.
Christopher was in his room, reading on the bed, his cat curled up on his back. The door to Sam’s room was shut as was the door to Madison and Jennifer’s room.
Charlotte knocked on the door to the spare room and leaned closer, listening.
She heard a faint sniff and carefully opened the door. Madison sat on her bed, hugging her knees, her chocolate brown hair flowing over her legs.
Charlotte stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her. Madison’s tear-stained cheeks glistened in the overhead light.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Charlotte asked, hurrying to her side. She gathered her into her arms.
Madison sniffed and wiped one cheek with the palm of her hand. “I miss my mommy.”
“I’m sure you do,” Charlotte said as she tried to find the right words to console her. Anna and Bill weren’t returning until Sunday, four days from now. There was nothing Charlotte could do if the little girl was homesick.
“I miss my daddy too,” Madison added with another sniff. “I want to go home.”
“Don’t you like it here?” Charlotte asked, dropping a kiss on Madison’s warm, sticky hair.
Madison pulled back, wiped her cheeks again and looked away. “Sam gave Jennifer a cookie and not me. Sam said I was a little tattletale.” Madison’s voice grew louder as she listed the offense, underlining the seriousness of her case. “I don’t like Sam and Emily. They’re mean. I don’t think they love Jesus very much.”
Charlotte smoothed Madison’s hair back from her face, as she struggled with a mixture of feelings and allegiances. She knew that Sam and Emily were busy with their own lives, but in the past few days they both seemed to warm to Jennifer more than her sister.
She understood why. Jennifer was pleasant, easygoing, and cute. Madison was, well, Madison.
But Charlotte loved her grandchildren equally and when one of them hurt, she hurt.
“How are they mean to you?” she asked, hoping to get a better picture of what was happening in her home.
“Emily won’t let me in her room and Sam wouldn’t give me a cookie.”
Charlotte stifled a smile. Hardly worthy of the high drama Madison had accorded the situation, but in Madison’s eyes these were grave offenses.
“Emily doesn’t always let me in her room either,” Charlotte said, trying to find a diplomatic solution to the problem. “And maybe Sam thought you might be allergic to the cookies.” That last one was a real stretch, but Charlotte could be inventive when pushed.
“But he called me a tattletale.”
“He’s a boy, and sometimes boys are mean to everyone.”
Madison smoothed out a wrinkle in her pants with her forefinger as she considered what Charlotte was telling her. “I don’t think he should be so mean. I should tell him that Jesus doesn’t love us when we’re mean.”
And didn’t that sound exactly like her mother?
“Actually, Madison, Jesus doesn’t always like what we do, but no matter what, He loves us all the time,” Charlotte said, hoping the conviction in her voice would ease away the judgment she heard in Madison’s. The little girl was too young to be self-righteous. “Jesus wants us to be good and kind to everyone because He loves everyone the same, no matter what you do.”
“Then Sam should be good and kind to me.”
Charlotte could not deny the simple truth of her statement. Sam was older and supposedly wiser. He was, as Madison had said, supposed to be the example.
“I’ll talk to Sam about that,” she said, giving Madison a smile.
“And Emily? Will you talk to her too?”
Goodness. The girl should be a lawyer. Or a politician like her father.
“I will talk to Emily too. But I am not going to tell her that she has to let you in her room.”
“I like all the stuff she has in her room,” Madison said with a wistful note in her voice.
Charlotte fully understood Madison’s fascination. Emily’s room was an explosion of color and things scattered about. Charlotte was always prodding Emily to keep it clean.
“Do you want to come downstairs now?” Charlotte held her hand out to the little girl. “You can have a cookie if you want.”
Madison sniffed once more, just to let Charlotte know that she hadn’t completely let go of her sadness. “And Jennifer doesn’t get one, does she?” she asked as she edged off the bed.
Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. “I think Jennifer will be full from the cookie she already ate.”
When they came downstairs, Charlotte ushered Madison to the cookie jar and let her help herself.
“I found another top,” Emily said. “Exactly the one I wanted.”
Jennifer slouched down in her chair, her chin on her chest as she watched Emily. “I’m bored,” she said without looking up as Charlotte came to stand behind Emily.
“Why don’t you go play with Christopher?” Charlotte said.
Jennifer shook her he
ad slowly negating that suggestion. “He says he’s working on his homework.” Jennifer sighed.
Charlotte stroked Jennifer’s head as she looked at the outfit Emily had on the computer screen. “If you’re bored, you can always help Grandpa clean out the chicken house.”
“Oh, Grandma, I’m not that bored.” Jennifer giggled.
“Or you could help Uncle Pete clean up his apartment,” Emily put in. “I bet he hasn’t cleaned it out since we made pies in there last fall.”
Charlotte wasn’t a betting person, but she was fairly sure Emily was right. “We’d have to wait until he was gone,” she said.
“He told me he had a date.” Jennifer inched down a little farther, pressing her hands against her mouth. “Oops,” she muttered.
“What oops?”
“I wasn’t ’posed to tell.” She sighed. “Now he won’t give me a ride in the tractor like he promised.”
Charlotte wanted to find out more, but decided to let the matter slide. If Pete was going out with Dana, then that was good. If that was the reason he wanted this to be a secret, then Charlotte decided it was best to let the matter be.
“How about this one?” Emily asked pointing to another top.
“Maybe,” Charlotte said, feeling distracted by what Jennifer had let slip. “I’m going to Harding tomorrow. I could check out that store you were telling me about.”
“Why can’t we go Saturday?” Emily asked. “Then I can come with you.”
“How come Madison gets a cookie?” Jennifer said, suddenly noticing her sister sitting in the living room, cookie in hand.
“Because Sam gave you one, and not me,” Madison answered, taking a tiny bite, as if trying to make the treat last as long as possible.
“Grandma, that’s no fair. How come she gets a cookie?” Jennifer appealed to Charlotte.
“What if you don’t find something I like?” Emily put in, clearly not impressed with her grandmother’s lollygagging.
“I’m fairly sure I can find something close to what you showed me. Something decent.” Charlotte struggled to keep her frustration out of her voice, but the mutinous look on Emily’s face told her she’d been unsuccessful.
“Oh. Decent. Of course, because I dress so indecently.” Emily got up from the computer and shoved the chair back under the desk.
Just like her Uncle Pete.
Charlotte rubbed away the beginnings of a headache as Emily stomped down the hallway and up the stairs. She should have known that with her mercurial granddaughter, the mood could have easily gone the other way.
“Can I play on the computer?” Jennifer asked.
“No, you can’t,” Charlotte replied, pushing down her own tiredness. Having five children in the house—and two of them teenagers with their ever-changing moods—was wearing her down.
And then there was the whole Pete/Dana issue.
She was too old for all this high drama and conflict. Just for a moment she wished her life could return to “before.” Before the kids had come, when her and Bob’s life lay like a long, steady stretch of road ahead of them. Quiet, restful.
“But what can I do, Grandma?” Jennifer’s whine broke into Charlotte’s pity party for one. “I’m bored.”
I’m not, thought Charlotte.
“You two girls can help me make supper.” Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, forcing a smile.
But as Charlotte walked to the kitchen, she wished she could have had a few moments to herself. Instead she kept the girls occupied, supervising them as they set the table and emptied the dishwasher.
Jennifer and Christopher chattered all through supper, filling in the silences created by Emily and Sam, who seemed distracted. Charlotte wondered what Sam was thinking.
She was sure he missed his friends back in San Diego, especially since the aborted trip at Christmas. But there was nothing she could do about that except hope and pray that some day he would accept his life here in Heather Creek.
“Christopher, you clear the table. Sam, Emily, you can do the dishes,” Charlotte said after Bob’s firm Amen. “I’m going to help Jennifer and Madison get ready for bed.”
“But I did the dishes last night,” Sam protested.
“Yes. And Madison and Jennifer set the table for you before supper.”
Sam heaved a sigh, then slouched into the kitchen and started rinsing the pots. Emily followed, her body language still conveying her disapproval of Charlotte.
“Did I miss something?” Bob asked as he put the Story Bible back on the shelf behind him. “Or are Sam and Emily just being teenagers again?”
Charlotte knew what caused Emily’s funk, but couldn’t enlighten Bob on Sam’s difficulties, so she simply put her finger to her lips, and shook her head.
“Do we have to go to bed now?” Madison asked. “Can we play Uno with Christopher for a while?”
Charlotte glanced at the clock. It was early yet.
“Christopher? Do you mind playing a game of Uno with Madison and Jennifer?”
Christopher looked from Charlotte to his two cousins and sighed. “Sure. Uncle Pete is gone anyway.”
Charlotte frowned. Again. “Did he say where he went?”
Christopher shook his head. “I went to his place, like he said I could, but he was gone.”
“I’m sorry, honey, can Grandpa help you?”
“Maybe.” And that was all he would say.
Half an hour later, Charlotte was supervising the girls getting ready for bed, and trying not to wonder why Pete was spending so much time away in the evenings.
By the time she had the girls settled, she stopped at Christopher’s room. He had disappeared as soon as Charlotte gathered up the girls to go to bed.
Now he sat on his bed, making aimless circles with a pencil on a scrap piece of paper.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled, but Charlotte sensed he was simply putting her off.
“Are you still worried about your assignment?”
He sighed. “I wanted to do my best job but—” His voice trailed off.
“But no one is helping you?”
Christopher shrugged.
“You still have over a week yet.”
“I know. But I want to do a good job.”
“You will, honey. I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Charlotte said as she stroked his head. “And when Madison and Jennifer are gone, we’ll work on it.”
Christopher’s pencil made a dark, angry circle. “I wish they were gone now.”
The resentment in his voice surprised her. “I thought you liked playing with Madison and Jennifer.”
“Not all the time.” He sighed. “And they talk and talk. And Sam is busy and won’t talk to me and Emily is grumpy. And I’m going to have to take care of Madison and Jennifer until Aunty Anna comes and I’m tired of them.”
This elicited another sigh from Christopher and as he doodled, a light bulb went on in Charlotte’s head.
Even before they came to the farm, Christopher had always been the youngest in the family. He was put out because Emily and Sam were occupied with their own problems, and Charlotte and Bob were occupied with Jennifer and Madison.
And Christopher was stuck squarely in the no-man’s-land of the middle child.
Charlotte stifled a grin, then sat closer, pulling him to her side. “Honey, you are very precious to me, okay?”
This elicited a feeble nod.
“And you know that I love you, right?”
Another listless nod.
“But right now I have five people to take care of and I’m pretty busy.” She wanted to sympathize more with him, but at the same time she knew he had to be realistic. “Right now, it may seem like I don’t have time for you, and, well, I don’t. Emily feels the same way, I’m sure, and so does Sam. In fact, so does your Grandpa. Madison and Jennifer are away from their mom and dad, and I think they miss them. I think you know what that feels like.”
She waited for that to s
ettle in, then continued.
“So, until they go, they are going to have a bit more attention than anyone else. Now if you want, I can talk to your teacher and explain why you’re not done your outline yet, but that we’ll have it done as soon as Madison and Jennifer are gone.”
Christopher put his pencil down and lowered his head. “You don’t have to do that,” he mumbled.
“Why not?”
“I didn’t need to have an outline done. I just—” He paused, then gave her a sheepish look. “I just wanted you to work with me too.”
Charlotte gave him a gentle smile, feeling oddly touched by his jealousy. “You know, I have a little time right now. Why don’t you tell me what you wanted to work on?”
“I wanted to do a project on training horses. I wanted to get Uncle Pete to show me how he does it and write about it.”
“You know what? Why don’t we go talk to your grandpa? He talks as if he doesn’t like horses much, but he’s spent a fair amount of time around them. You could get a few ideas from him.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
Christopher jumped off the bed as he grabbed his paper and pencil. “Can I talk to him now?”
“Now would be fine.”
Bob was perched in his chair when Christopher and Charlotte came downstairs.
“—And we can expect another Canadian clipper coming in from the north tonight,” the announcer said with an unseemly amount of good cheer. “Temperatures will plunge into the low twenties on Friday with a high wind-chill factor so make sure you bundle up.”
“Guess you won’t be going to Harding tomorrow,” Bob said as he looked up at them coming into the living room.
“I think it will be fine,” Charlotte assured him. She needed the break. Being home with two little girls all day plus the added pressure of making sure their schoolwork was done to Anna’s satisfaction had worn her down. And now Christopher needed some extra attention. Bob could help out. “By the way, Christopher needs some help with his schoolwork.”
“About what?”
“He wants to do a talk about training horses.”
“Those hay burners are Pete’s department, aren’t they?” Bob asked as Charlotte walked to the television and turned it off.
An Abundance of Blessings Page 9
