Aaron shook his head and started to walk away, but he halted and turned back around. “Say, how come you’re home early from Springfield? I thought you were planning to eat supper out.”
“Emma came down with a bauchweh.”
“What’s wrong with Emma? Has she got the flu?”
“I suppose she might, but more than likely her bellyache’s from eating too much candy earlier in the day. Our driver, Larry Porter, always has a bag of chocolates he likes to hand out to the kinner.” Paul grunted. “Emma ate way too much candy before either your mamm or I realized it.”
“I remember once when Davey was a little guy and got into Mom’s candy dish,” Aaron said. “The little schtinker polished off every last piece. Mom said she didn’t have the heart to give him a bletsching because suffering with an upset stomach was punishment enough.”
“Sometimes the direct consequences of one’s transgressions are worse than a spanking.”
“I guess that’s true.” Aaron moved toward the door.
“Before you go up to the house, I’d like to say one more thing,” Paul said.
Out of respect, Aaron halted. “What’d you want to say?”
“Just wanted you to know that I love you. That’s the only reason I want to be sure you get your priorities straight.”
Aaron nodded.
“Tell your mamm to ring the supper bell when it’s time to eat.”
“Jah, okay.” Aaron opened the door and stepped outside. “I’m not a baby,” he muttered under his breath, “and I wish he’d quit treating me like one.”
Allison entered the house and was pleased to discover Katie Esh sitting at the kitchen table, talking with Aunt Mary. “I’m sorry about bringing Dan home soaking wet,” Allison apologized.
“It’s not the first time he’s fallen into the pond, and it probably won’t be the last.” Aunt Mary smiled. “He’s in the bathroom, taking a warm bath.”
Allison looked down at the muddy footprints leading from the kitchen door to the hallway. “Since I’m the one who took Dan fishing, I’d better mop up the mess he left behind.”
“Nonsense,” her aunt said, pushing away from the table. “You sit with Katie and visit. I’ll see to the floor.”
Allison was amazed at her aunt’s generosity. If this had happened in Aunt Catherine’s kitchen, the woman would have been grumpier than an old goat.
Katie smiled and motioned to the chair beside her. “How about a glass of cold milk to go with the carrot cake I brought over?”
Allison glanced at Aunt Mary, who was at the sink, dampening the mop. “When are you planning to serve supper?”
“Not for an hour or so. Ben, Harvey, and Walter will probably work in the fields until it’s nearly dark, so feel free to eat some of Katie’s cake.”
A hunk of moist carrot cake did sound appealing, so Allison poured a glass of milk and helped herself to a slice of cake.
“I came by to visit with you, but your aunt said you and Dan had gone fishing. How’d it go?” Katie asked.
“Not so good. We didn’t catch a single fish.”
Katie snickered. “From the looks of Dan when he came through the door, I’d say the fish caught him.”
Allison laughed, too. “Aaron and I rescued my waterlogged cousin before the fish could reel him in too far.”
Katie’s pale eyebrows lifted in obvious surprise. “Aaron Zook?”
“Jah.”
“I didn’t realize you were meeting him at the pond,” Aunt Mary said.
“Oh, I wasn’t,” Allison was quick to say. “He and his collie showed up. It was shortly after they arrived that Dan fell in the water.” She leaned closer to Katie. “Do you know if Aaron has a girlfriend?”
“Nope, he sure doesn’t.” Katie blinked a couple of times. “Why, are you interested in Aaron?”
“No, of course not. I barely know him.” Allison quickly forked a piece of cake into her mouth. “Umm. . . This is sure good.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Next to chocolate, carrot’s my favorite kind of cake.”
“What kind of pie do you like?” Katie asked.
“Most any except for mincemeat.”
Katie wrinkled her nose. “Me, neither. I never have understood why my mamm likes mincemeat pie so well.”
Aunt Mary swished the mop past the table and stopped long enough to grab a sliver of cake. “My favorite pie is strawberry.”
Allison’s mouth watered at the mention of sweet, juicy strawberries, so ripe the juice ran down your chin.
As if she could read Allison’s mind, Katie leaned over and said, “We’ve got a big strawberry patch. Why don’t you plan to come over some Saturday toward the end of the month and help me pick some? They should be ripe by then.”
“That sounds like fun.”
Katie smiled. “In the meantime, let’s set this Thursday evening aside, and the two of us can go on a picnic in the woods near my house. I’ll furnish the meal,” she quickly added.
Allison glanced at Aunt Mary, who had finished mopping and was now peeling potatoes. “Would that be all right with you?”
“I have no problem with it.”
Allison smiled. She could hardly believe how agreeable her mother’s twin sister seemed to be. She hated to keep comparing Aunt Mary to Aunt Catherine, but they were as different as winter and summer. What made the difference? What was the reason for Aunt Mary’s sweet disposition?
Chapter 8
Allison sat at the kitchen table, reading the letter she’d just received from her father:
Dear Allison,
Except for that one letter you wrote soon after you arrived in Missouri, I haven’t heard anything from you, and I’m wondering why. I’m anxious to hear how things are going and what it’s like for you there.
We’re getting along okay here. We went to Gerald and Norma’s for supper the other night, and all your brothers were there except for Clarence and his family. They couldn’t make it because Esther’s been quite tired during this pregnancy.
A wave of homesickness washed over Allison. She’d always enjoyed spending time with her brothers, especially family dinners at one of their homes. All of her siblings except Peter were married, and from what Sally had said in her last letter, Allison figured it wouldn’t be long before they were, too. Then she’d be the only one of her siblings not married.
Directing her focus back to the letter, Allison read on:
The weather has been hot and muggy. We could sure use a good rain. Peter and I are keeping busy as usual with the dairy, and Aunt Catherine stays busy with the household chores. We all miss you and hope you’re having a good time. Write back soon.
Love,
Papa
Allison shook her head. “You might miss me, Papa, but I’m sure Aunt Catherine doesn’t.”
“What was that you were saying?” Aunt Mary asked as she stepped into the room.
Allison’s cheeks warmed. “I was reading a letter from my daed that came in today’s mail.”
“How’s my brother-in-law doing? I’ll bet he’s missing you already.”
Allison nodded. “He says everyone misses me, but I don’t think Aunt Catherine does.”
Aunt Mary took a seat at the table. “What makes you think that?”
“Aunt Catherine has never shown much interest in me except to find fault. That’s why I can’t cook or sew very well.”
“Still, that’s no reason to believe she doesn’t care about you.”
Allison shrugged.
“Speaking of sewing, would you like to try to make a faceless doll after we’ve had lunch?” Aunt Mary asked.
“Do you think I’m ready for that?”
“You’ve been practicing at the machine nearly every day this week, and you’ve been able to make several potholders.” A wide smile spread across Aunt Mary’s face. “I think you’re ready to try making a doll.”
“Okay.”
Aunt Mary squeezed Allison’s shou
lder. “I’ll leave you alone to answer your daed’s letter, but I’ll be back when it’s time to start lunch.”
“I probably should answer his letter right away,” Allison agreed. “He seemed a little worried because I haven’t written but one letter since I’ve been here.”
Aunt Mary’s forehead creased. “I guess that’s my fault for keeping you so busy.”
“It’s not your fault. I’ve enjoyed staying busy.” Allison smiled.
Aunt Mary motioned to the desk in the corner of the room. “There’s a book of stamps, envelopes, and plenty of paper in there, so use whatever you need.”
“Danki.”
When Aunt Mary left the room, Allison hurried over to the desk. Maybe she would write Sally a letter after she finished writing Papa. She was anxious to let them both know how things had been going.
“I thought you were out in the fields,” Aaron said when Joseph stepped into the harness shop.
“I was, but I’m here now.”
“What happened? Did one of the mules’ straps break?”
“Nope. I came to see Papa. Mom wanted me to tell him that she’ll be taking Emma into Seymour to see the doctor.”
Aaron frowned. “Is our little sister still feeling poorly?”
“Afraid so. That bellyache she’s had for the last couple of days doesn’t seem to be going away.”
“I thought it was just the flu.”
“If it is, it’s lasting longer than most flu bugs do.” Joseph glanced around the room. “Where is Papa, anyway?”
Aaron motioned toward the back of the shop. “Paul’s in the supply room.”
“I’ll give him Mom’s message. Then I need to get back to the house and grab something cold to drink for me, Zachary, and Davey.” Joseph started to walk away but turned back around. “Say, I’ve been wondering about something.”
“What’s that?”
“Why have you started calling our daed by his first name?”
“Paul’s not our real daed, Joseph. Have you forgotten that?”
“Of course not, but we’ve been calling him Papa ever since he married Mom.”
Aaron shrugged.
Joseph’s eyebrows drew together, and he took a step closer to Aaron. “What’s Papa think of you calling him Paul?”
“He hasn’t said anything, so he probably doesn’t care.” Aaron squinted at Joseph. “You were so little when our real daed died, you probably don’t remember him.”
“You’re right, I don’t, but what’s that got to do with—”
“Paul’s been our stepfather so long, you probably think of him as your real daed.”
“That’s right. He’s always treated us like he’s our real daed, too.” Joseph nudged Aaron’s arm. “Don’t you think Paul acts like a real daed to us?”
“What I think is that he favors you and the younger kinner.”
Joseph’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, if you think that, then your thinking is just plain lecherich.” Joseph headed for the back room.
Aaron resumed work on the bridle he was making for Gabe. “A lot you know, Joseph,” he mumbled under his breath. “My thinking is not ridiculous!”
When Joseph entered the supply room, he spotted his step-father down on his knees, rummaging through a box of old harnesses.
“Joseph, what are you doing here?” Papa asked when Joseph cleared his throat.
“I came up to the house to get something and saw Mom hitching one of the horses to a buggy. She asked me to let you know she’s taking Emma into Seymour to see the doctor. I guess whatever’s been ailing her has gotten worse.”
Papa’s forehead wrinkled as he rose to his feet. “Emma’s been feeling poorly ever since she ate too much candy the day we went to Springfield. If it’s the flu, it’s lasted a lot longer than normal.”
“That’s what Mom thinks, too, which is why she decided it was time to take Emma to see the doctor.”
Papa rubbed his back. “Does she want me to go with her?”
Joseph shook his head. “I don’t think so. She just asked if I’d let you know where she was going so you wouldn’t worry.”
“Danki for delivering the message.” Papa moved toward the door leading to the main part of the shop. “I guess I should see how Aaron’s doing, and you’d better get back out to the fields to check on your brothers.”
“Jah. No telling what those two are up to.” Joseph hesitated, wondering if he should say something about the conversation he’d just had with Aaron.
“Is there something else?” Papa asked.
“Uh, well. . .I’ve been wondering about something.”
“What’s that?”
“I was wondering how you feel about Aaron calling you Paul here of late.”
Papa pulled his fingers through the ends of his beard. “To be perfectly honest, it kind of hurts.”
“Then how come you let him get away with it?”
“Aaron’s a grown man now, and there’s not much I can do if he’s made up his mind to call me Paul. After all, I’m not his real daed.”
“Maybe not by blood, but you’ve been like a real daed to us ever since you married Mom,” Joseph was quick to say. “I think Aaron’s being disrespectful by calling you Paul.”
Papa shrugged as he gave his left earlobe a quick tug. “That may be, but I won’t try to force Aaron to call me Papa. So unless he changes his mind, I’ve decided to just accept it and try to be Aaron’s friend.”
Joseph wanted to say more, but he figured his daed had made up his mind. And since it really wasn’t his business, the best thing to do was to drop the subject and get on back to work.
“Is this the way the doll’s hair is supposed to attach to its head?” Allison asked as she lifted a brown piece of material for her aunt’s inspection.
Aunt Mary nodded. “You’ve got it pinned in exactly the right place. Now stitch that section of hair to the top of the head, and you’ll be ready to put the rest of the body together.”
Pumping her legs up and down and guiding the wheel of the treadle machine with one hand, Allison carefully sewed the hair in place.
“I thought I might go to the farmers’ market this Saturday to sell some of my quilted pillows and our garden produce,” Aunt Mary said. “If you finish with the doll by then, maybe you’d like to go along and try to sell it. That would give you an idea of whether there’s a market for more.”
Allison finished the seam and cut the thread before she looked up. “I. . .I don’t think I’m quite ready for anything like that yet.”
Aunt Mary gave Allison’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Maybe some other time—when you have more than one doll made.”
“Maybe so. I’ll have to wait and see how well my sewing goes.”
“Are you ready to take a break? I thought a glass of your uncle Ben’s homemade root beer might taste good about now.”
“That does sound refreshing.” Allison stood and arched her back. “I think after all that pumping on the treadle machine I worked up a thirst.”
Aunt Mary chuckled. “Let’s round up the kinner and have our snack out on the front porch. I’m sure they need a break from their garden chores, too.”
A short time later, Allison, Aunt Mary, Sarah, and Dan sat in chairs on the front porch, enjoying tall glasses of root beer and some peanut butter cookies.
“This is real good.” Dan made a slurping sound and swiped his tongue across his upper lip where some foamy root beer had gathered. “It would be even better if we had a batch of vanilla ice cream so we could make frosty floats.”
“We’ll see about making some homemade ice cream soon,” his mother said.
“How about this Saturday night?” Sarah suggested. “We can invite Grandpa and Grandma King over. What do you think about that, Mama?”
“That sounds like a fine idea, but you and I will be at the farmers’ market all day Saturday. We could do it on Friday evening
, though.” Aunt Mary glanced over at Allison and smiled. “Maybe we can have an outdoor barbecue and invite some of our friends and family. It would be a nice way of giving everyone a chance to get to know you better.”
“A barbecue sounds real nice,” Allison said.
“Can we invite the Hiltys?” Sarah asked. “I’d like my friend Bessie to be here.”
“Jah, maybe so. And we can ask Gabe and Melinda Swartz.” Aunt Mary looked over at Allison. “Melinda’s about your age, but she wasn’t at our last preaching service because she was feeling sick.” She eased out of her chair. “I’ll pick up the ingredients we need for the ice cream sometime before Friday, but for now, I think I’d better see about making some corn bread and beans for supper.”
Allison started to get up, but her aunt motioned her to sit back down. “Take your time and finish your root beer. When you’re done, you can make the coleslaw while Sarah sets the table.”
Chapter 9
Allison had never made coleslaw before, but she’d seen Aunt Catherine do it and figured it couldn’t be that hard. Just chop up some cabbage, add a little mayonnaise, some vinegar, salt, and pepper. She watched with anticipation as Uncle Ben forked some of her coleslaw into his mouth. After the first bite, he puckered his lips and quickly reached for his glass of water. “Whew! How come there’s so much vinegar in this?”
“I don’t think there’s that much.” Aunt Mary spooned some onto her plate and took a bite. Her eyes widened, but she swallowed it down.
Dan grimaced when he ate some. “Papa’s right. This stuff is awful!” He jumped up from the table, ran over to the garbage can, and spit out the coleslaw.
“Dan, you’re being rude,” Uncle Ben said sternly. “And I never said the coleslaw was awful.”
Allison’s face burned with embarrassment. She couldn’t even make a simple thing like coleslaw without ruining it. “I–I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I should have asked how much vinegar to use.”
“You mean you made the coleslaw?” Walter pointed at Allison as his eyebrows lifted high on his forehead.
Allison's Journey Page 7
