by Marta Perry
“No problem at all.” Libby gave her another quick hug and whirled toward the door. “I’m ser glad you’re here, Naomi. And you know you’re wilkom to move in with us anytime. We wish you would.”
“Ach, wouldn’t that be a fine thing, to move in on a pair of newlyweds,” Naomi said, smiling. “Get on with you, before Isaiah comes home and finds the kitchen cold.”
Dimpling, Libby waved to the children and hurried out, the door closing on the wave of chilled air.
Still smiling, Naomi turned back to the children, to find them surveying her solemnly. A wave of uneasiness swept through her. Ada’s children had suffered an enormous loss when their mother died. Now their grandmother, the person they relied on most, was gone. A few weeks no doubt felt like an eternity at their age. How could she possibly meet their needs?
Nonsense. She gave herself a mental shake. They were just children. They needed to feel as if they belonged, to feel useful, to feel loved. She could meet those needs, surely.
A half hour later, Naomi wasn’t so convinced. Joshua and Sadie resisted every effort to get close to them, Sadie with her constantly reiterated refrain that Grossmammi didn’t do it that way while Joshua, outwardly obedient, kept his every thought and feeling locked up inside.
Time, she reminded herself. It takes time.
Meanwhile, Nathan and his father would be coming in soon for lunch.
She checked on the beef stew, stirring to be sure it wasn’t sticking, and then found a knife to cut the bread.
She glanced at Sadie, who stood behind her, holding a rag doll by one foot. “Sadie, will you set the table for middaagesse, please?”
Sadie responded with a pout. “Let Joshua do it.”
Naomi gave her the look she always used on her younger siblings when sassiness occurred. “I’m sure Joshua has his own chores to do.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Sadie said.
Naomi ignored the comment. “I’ll get the plates down from the cabinet and you put them around.”
For a moment the issue hung in the balance. Then Joshua spoke.
“I’ll help you, Sadie. We’ll do it together, ja?”
“That is ser kind of you, Joshua.” Naomi set the plates on the table, then turned back to the stove, showing her assumption that they’d do as they should.
For a moment there was silence behind her. Then she heard the plunk of plates being placed around the table.
Allowing herself a slight smile, she took a handful of flatware from the drawer. “Can you figure out what each person needs to eat with?”
“For sure,” Sadie said, her moodiness dispelled. “I know.”
Naomi warmed some applesauce, adding a sprinkle of cinnamon. Sadie’s comment teased at the back of her mind. How could Joshua not have chores? He was six, an age at which every Amish child accepted responsibility as a matter of course. Even a three-year-old could toddle around the table, putting spoons in place. Perhaps Sadie had just been exaggerating, as Ada used to when she wanted to make Naomi laugh.
Nathan and his father came in a few minutes later, causing her to shrug off her perplexed thoughts.
“I set the table, Daadi,” Sadie announced.
“Gut, gut,” Nathan said, hanging up his coat.
“I helped, too,” Joshua said.
Naomi set the tureen of beef stew on the table. “I thought perhaps he had his own outside chores to do, but he wanted to help his sister.”
“That was kind,” Nathan’s father said, ruffling Joshua’s hair. “Everyone helps, and then no one has to do too much.”
For some reason Naomi didn’t understand, that comment seemed to annoy Nathan, to judge by the look he cast his father.
“There will be plenty of time for outside chores when the boy is older,” he said, his tone gruff. “Let us sit down, before Naomi’s fine meal is cold.”
“It’s mostly Libby’s fine meal,” Naomi said. “She had everything cooked before we returned.”
Did Nathan see the disappointment on Joshua’s face at his comment about waiting until he was older? Why wouldn’t he be training Joshua in work around the farm, something that surely was natural? Her brothers had been helping Daad at his age, just as her sisters had been helping her. That was how kinder learned.
She slipped into a seat at the side of the table and found that Ezra King, Nathan’s father, was surveying her with something like approval. Perplexed, she bowed her head for the silent prayer before the meal. Usually at this point she mentally recited the Lord’s Prayer. Today she found other words filling her mind.
Guide me to understand this family and their needs, Father. Lead me to put aside my own selfish concerns and see how to help them.
She finished just as Nathan raised his head, the silent prayer ended.
Over the meal the conversation was mostly about the beehives. Mainly it was Ezra who seemed interested, plying her with questions, which she willingly answered. It was nice to find someone who wanted to know about bee-keeping. Her own family, other than Isaiah, usually thought of it as Naomi’s rather odd hobby, even though they cheerfully ate the honey.
By the time Nathan and Ezra went back out to work, Joshua and Sadie had picked up on their grossdaadi’s interest.
“We want to see the beehives, Naomi.” Sadie carried her plate to the sink without being asked. “Please can we see them?”
“Ja, please,” Joshua added. “We never saw a beehive up close before.”
Much as she welcomed their interest, Naomi hesitated. “Suppose we wait until tomorrow to visit the bees,” she said.
Sadie’s face puckered, and she looked ready to make a fuss.
“You see, moving is very hard on bees,” Naomi added quickly. “They like to have their hives in the same place, year after year after year. Imagine how hard it would be for them to wake up and find they’re in a different place.” She could see Sadie’s quick imagination working on that image. “If we wait until tomorrow to visit them,” she continued, “they’ll have a chance to get settled down. Then they won’t be bothered by our visit. All right?”
They nodded.
“But what will we do this afternoon?” Sadie added. “I want to do something.”
“We’ll make a letter to send to your grossmammi,” she said, remembering the promise she’d made before she’d realized that she’d be taking care of them. “Joshua can print the words, and Sadie, you can make a picture.”
Sadie’s pout wasn’t quite gone. “I don’t know what to make a picture of.”
“What about the beehives? You saw them when your daadi and I went past in the wagon, didn’t you?”
Sadie’s face lit up, making her look so like Ada that it grabbed Naomi’s heart. “I’ll get the paper and crayons,” she said, and scurried from the room, to return a moment later waving paper and clutching a box of crayons.
Joshua slid into a chair. “You’ll have to help me with the words,” he said. “I’m not in school yet.”
She’d intended to wash the dishes while they worked on their letter, but the dishes could wait. “I will be happy to do that with you, Joshua.”
Sadie was already busy with her picture, the tip of her tongue showing between her lips as she concentrated. Naomi had never seen a purple hive, but she didn’t intend to discourage the child.
Joshua, a sheet of lined paper in front of him, studied all the crayons before picking up a red one. “What should I say?”
“Suppose you start with ‘Dear Grossmammi,’” she said.
He nodded and bent to the paper. To her surprise, he didn’t need as much help as she’d expected, given that he wasn’t in school yet.
He had turned six in September. Nathan certain-sure could have started him in school if he’d wanted. Apparently he hadn’t wanted.
She spelled a word here and there, helped Sadie decide on the colors for the trees she was drawing, showed Joshua how to spell hive. It was very peaceful in the warm kitchen, and she began to relax, just as the children di
d. Her fears had been silly, maybe. For sure she would miss Joshua and Sadie when their time together was over, but this was a unique chance to get to know Ada’s children better. She shouldn’t let her own private grief affect that fact.
The door opened and she looked up, startled, not expecting Nathan to return so soon. But it wasn’t Nathan, and her stomach clutched. Jessie Miller, Ada’s youngest sister, stood there, door open behind her, letting a blast of cold air into the kitchen and sending the children’s papers fluttering to the floor.
That was Jessie, for sure. She always had to make people look at her. Though she must be over twenty by now, she acted much of the time like a thirteen-year-old, causing her mamm, Emma, endless worry. As the Plain People said delicately, Jessie was a touch odd.
“Jessie, how nice to see you. Shut the door, please. You’re letting the cold air in.” Naomi had found, over the years, that addressing Jessie as calmly as if she were about ten worked as well as anything.
Jessie shut the door with a decided slam. “You can leave now, Naomi,” she announced. “I’m going to take care of my sister’s children.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Nathan stopped on his way into the barn, his attention caught by the buggy pulled up by the back door of the house. He knew it, for sure. It belonged to Ada’s mother. And since Emma was off in Ohio already, it could only be Jessie, her youngest daughter, who’d driven it here.
Concern flicked at him like a pesky gnat, and he tried to wave it away. It was natural enough for Jessie to stop by, wasn’t it? With her mamm away, she was probably lonesome.
Still…without pausing to analyze his reaction, he headed for the house. Emma had talked about taking Jessie with her when she went to help her other daughter, but for whatever reason, it had come to nothing.
Maybe he should have offered to keep track of Jessie while Emma was away. Concern turned to guilt. Emma did so much for him and the kinder—that was the least he could have done. But he couldn’t help cringing at the thought of trying to watch over her.
He opened the back door and stepped through the mud room to the kitchen, not bothering to take his jacket off. He didn’t think to be inside that long.
Papers and crayons were scattered across the kitchen table. It looked as if Naomi and the children had been working on a project when Jessie came in. At the moment Joshua and Sadie were watching their aunt with a bit of wariness.
Jessie swung to face him, and as always, he was forcibly reminded of Ada—same rosy cheeks, same curling brown hair and sparkling eyes. But what had been pertness in Ada was something sharper in Jessie. She was as impetuous as a child, he sometimes thought.
“Jessie, I did not think to see you today. Is there any word from your mamm?”
“I told Naomi she could go.” Jessie ignored his question, intent on her own plans, whatever they might be. “But she won’t. You tell her, Nathan.”
His heart sank. Jessie could be unreasonable when she set her mind to it. “Why would I tell Naomi to leave?” He kept his voice calm, as if he spoke to a shying horse. “She is here to help with the kinder while your mamm is away.”
“You don’t need her.” Jessie sent a flashing look at Naomi, and he realized that even Naomi’s serenity seemed a bit disturbed. “I can take care of my own niece and nephew without anybody else around.”
Warning lights flashed in his thoughts. Ada had never allowed Jessie to watch the children alone, and Ada had certain-sure known her own sister.
“Is that what your mamm said?” he asked, knowing full well it wasn’t.
Jessie pouted. “Mamm thinks I can’t do anything, but I can. I can!” Her voice rose on the words.
Harassed, he looked at Naomi, wishing he could tell her to take the children out without saying the words and upsetting Jessie even more.
Naomi took Joshua and Sadie by the hand. “The kinder were just going to show me their pony,” she said quietly. “We’ll leave you to talk.”
It seemed he didn’t need words for Naomi to understand. Jessie reached out a detaining hand, but Naomi had already led the children past her.
“Gut idea.” He ushered the little ones into the mud room where their jackets hung. “Jessie, I see there is some coffee still in the pot. Would you like a cup to warm you before you drive back home?”
“I told you. I’m not going home. I’m staying here to watch Joshua and Sadie. In fact, I should move in while Mamm is away. I’m your own sister-in-law, not like Naomi. She isn’t anything to you.”
The door closed, and he could only hope Naomi hadn’t heard that last comment. “Komm, now, Jessie. You know that wouldn’t be fitting, for you to stay here. Besides, I already made arrangements with Naomi.”
“I don’t care—”
“Soon you’ll have a new niece or nephew.” He kept talking, hoping to distract her. “I’m sure you’ll be going out to Ohio to visit your sister and the new little one, won’t you?”
“I guess.” The topic of a trip to Ohio seemed to distract her. “I don’t know why Mamm didn’t take me this time. I could help.”
“I’m sure you could.” He kept his tone soothing, relieved that the storm seemed to be passing. Ada had always said that Jessie’s tempers would come less frequently as she grew older. He hoped she’d been right. “But right now, your mamm trusts you to take care of things at home, ain’t so?”
“There’s nothing to take care of but the horses and chickens, and anyone can do that.”
“But not as well as you can,” he said, praying for calm. “Your mamm is counting on you, ain’t so?”
“I guess so.” She began to button her coat.
“I’ll walk out to the buggy with you,” he said. “Maybe when you get home, your mamm will have sent a message about the new boppli.”
“Maybe so.” Jessie’s steps quickened, and they crossed the porch and approached her buggy.
Relieved, he began to think about getting back to his work. But Jessie grabbed his arm, her fingers digging in. She was looking past him, to the paddock where Naomi stood with the children, admiring the black pony nuzzling Joshua’s hand.
“You have to be careful,” Jessie said, lowering her voice as if afraid someone would hear.
Nathan’s patience was waning. “I’m always careful of the kinder.”
“Not the kinder. It’s Naomi you have to be careful of. She wants to take Ada’s place.”
The idea was so ludicrous he nearly laughed, but he caught himself in time. Nothing offended Jessie more than thinking someone was laughing at her.
“I’m sure Naomi has no such idea,” he said. “But I promise, I’ll be careful.”
That seemed to soothe Jessie, and she got into the buggy and drove off down the lane without another word.
For a moment he stood looking after her, feeling the worry nagging at him. Shouldn’t Jessie be outgrowing these odd humors of hers? Sometimes she acted as if she were thirteen instead of twenty-one.
He shook his head, trying to shake off the worry. Now he had to go and say something to Naomi, he supposed. Women certainly complicated a man’s life.
When he reached the paddock, his daad had joined the children, giving them bits of apple to feed Coal, the black pony. Naomi rested her hands on the top bar of the fence, watching them with a smile. Nathan came to stand next to her.
“If they feed that pony much more, she’ll be too fat to pull the pony cart,” he said.
“I don’t blame them. Coalie’s a sweet-tempered creature, ain’t so?”
He nodded, wondering what he could say to put the incident with Jessie in its proper place. He studied Naomi’s face. She was her usual contained self again, and the hint of distress he’d seen when he first came in the house was banished. She hadn’t bothered to put a bonnet on just to come out to the paddock, and the chill breeze tossed the strings of her kapp.
“It was gut of you to bring the kinder out,” he said finally. “Jessie is not so temperamental when Emma is here.” Was that an ex
planation or an apology? Maybe a little of each.
“I understand,” Naomi said. “I just was not sure what to do when Jessie said what she did. I knew that Ada did not leave her alone with the kinder, but I didn’t know if that had changed.”
“No.” He found himself wanting to say more—to pour out what worried him about Ada’s little sister. But that seemed disloyal, and really was none of Naomi’s business.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. Naomi had charge of Joshua and Sadie when he wasn’t there, so she had a right to be concerned.
“No,” he repeated. “I think it best not to rely on Jessie to watch them. Emma says she is young for her age, and not responsible enough yet.” He realized how ferhoodled that sounded as soon as he said it and found himself resenting the fact that Naomi had made it necessary.
Naomi was regarding him with a grave expression. “Maybe Jessie could use a little help. There is a clinic over in Mifflin County—”
“Nonsense,” he said sharply. He knew the clinic she meant. It was run by Mennonites, and it served people from the Plain communities who needed help with mental problems. “Jessie’s family is perfectly able to deal with any problems she has.”
And it’s none of your business. He didn’t add the words, but he might as well have.
Supper was ready, keeping warm on the stove while Naomi waited for Nathan to come in the house so that she could leave for town. She’d already seen Isaiah walking across the stubble of the cornfield toward the house he and Libby rented, and a few minutes ago Ezra King’s buggy had passed the house as he headed back to his daughter’s place.
When Nathan did come in, she’d leave quickly. She’d already been embarrassed enough for one day over his implication that she’d been gossiping about Jessie.
Her cheeks burned just thinking about it. Nobody would accuse her of being a blabbermaul. It wasn’t in her nature. Anyway, she’d just been expressing her concern for Ada’s little sister. Most likely none of her family wanted to admit it, but pretending Jessie would outgrow her problems didn’t seem to be helping at all.
