Naomi’s Christmas (14 page)

In other words, not until Naomi had left. She felt a rush of gratitude, sure that
this was Betty’s way of reassuring her.

“I think we can have everything sorted by then,” Naomi said. “What were you thinking
about these things?” She gestured toward the items laid out on the bed.

“They are the extras beyond what I need.” Betty touched the pile of coverlets. “Probably
your mamm made these, so you children should have them. You can pick out what you
want and what you think should go to each of your brothers and sisters. You’ll know
what they’ll like better than I would. Or your daad, for that matter. Men don’t take
much interest in such things.”

“That’s wonderful kind of you.” And more thoughtful than Naomi might have expected.
She had probably been misjudging Betty, and that wasn’t fair. “Are you sure you have
enough without these?”

“Ach, ja, a chest full of things. I was married for thirty years to my first husband,
and things certain-sure accumulate in that time.”

Naomi picked up a quilt that Mammi had made when she was expecting Sara. Sara should
have this one. “You must have been very lonely after your husband died,” Naomi said,
starting a stack for her younger sister.

“Ja, I was.” Betty sighed a little. “I didn’t expect to be quite so lonely, with so
many relatives and friends living nearby. But we had no children, you see, so in the
evening, once things were quiet, it was just awful lonesome.”

“I understand.” Naomi did, to her surprise. Even staying with Paula now, she felt
that loneliness sometimes, especially on the rare quiet evening. It came of having
no one of her own, she thought.

“Well, now you have Daad for company. Just don’t let him get so engrossed in the newspaper
that he forgets you’re there.” She smiled, and Betty smiled back with a twinkle in
her eye.

“You are right about that, Naomi.” She reached out to pat Naomi’s arm. “And you’ll
forgive me, won’t you, if I make any mistakes with you or your brothers or sisters?
I’m just not used to having such a big family.”

“Don’t worry about us.” Acting on impulse, Naomi clasped Betty’s hand. “Just make
Daadi happy, and everything else will work out all right.”

“Denke, Naomi.” Betty squeezed her hand briefly. “I’ll remember that advice.”

The talk between them was easy during the rest of the sorting, and Naomi had the impression
that Betty had said what she’d wanted to for this visit. Well, that was fine. They
were both a little on edge, most likely, trying to make the best of the situation.

At the end of an hour, all of the linens had been sorted, boxed, and marked for pickup,
and Naomi had taken hers out to the buggy. All in all, it had turned into a fairly
pleasant afternoon. She didn’t suppose she and Betty would ever become close friends,
but at least they could get along together. Surely harmony in the family was the most
important thing to both of them.

Naomi carried some extra boxes she’d brought back into
the house with her. “Shall we go ahead and sort out some canned goods now?”

She didn’t really care that much about the vegetables and fruit she’d canned, but
the honey was also stored in the basement, and she did intend to take that with her.
Paula was eager to set up a display at the bakery and start selling jars of honey.

Betty led the way down the narrow cellar stairs and stopped at the bottom, lighting
the overhead lamp. “Please, take whatever you can use.”

Betty gestured toward the long shelves that lined one wall. Naomi had filled the jars
over the summer and fall, as she always did, moving any older canned goods to the
front to be used first.

“I don’t really need much,” she said, putting a few jars of applesauce in one of the
boxes before moving on to the jams. “I’m just one person.”

“But…” Betty shrugged. “Well, things might change,” she said vaguely. “You can always
pick up more jars later, if need be.”

Taking a few jars of string beans, Naomi walked to the shelves that contained her
store of honey. She stood for a moment, looking with satisfaction at the rows of jars,
the honey glowing amber. This was really the work of her hands, far more so than all
the rows of canned vegetables. Reaching, she began to stack the jars of honey in the
box.

Betty watched her in silence for a few minutes. Then she moved restlessly. “I thought
you said you only needed a few.”

Kneeling by the box, Naomi looked at her, a little confused. “That was of the fruits
and vegetables. Don’t worry. I’ll leave plenty of the honey to get you and Daad through
the winter.”

“You are taking all the rest? You can surely store it here if you want. What will
you do with so many jars?”

Naomi realized she was gaping and gathered her wits. She’d assumed Betty knew about
her plan to market the honey. Certainly the word had gotten around the rest of the
family, but perhaps Betty hadn’t heard.

“Paula Schatz at the bakery has agreed to let me put up a display of the honey. I
intend to start a little business, selling my honey to customers.”

“But—” Betty’s plump face crinkled in dismay. “Maybe you should talk to your daad
about this idea. I’m not sure he would think it a gut plan.”

Naomi tried not to clench her teeth. “Daad understands that the hives are mine. Certainly
I respect his opinion, but I must decide this for myself.” She tried to smile. “It’s
not so unusual for an Amish woman to have a little business, ain’t so?”

Betty dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “You are an unmarried woman, Naomi.
Surely you would do better to allow yourself to be guided by your father.” Betty took
a step closer. “You will say that this is not my business, but I only want what’s
best for everyone. Your father feels sure that once you move in with your brother—”

Naomi turned away, lifting the heavy box and carrying it to the stairs. Maybe Betty
had invited her here today in order to get to know her better, but it seemed clear
that her main aim had been to persuade Naomi to heed her father’s wishes.

You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
The old saying flitted through her mind. Daad, angry and giving orders, had been
the vinegar, and it seemed Betty was meant
to supply the honey. Ironic, given that it was the honey Naomi would be taking out
of here today.

“I thank you for your concern, Betty.” She took the second box, filling it quickly
with honey jars. “I am leaving some of the honey mixtures for you, as well as the
plain clover honey. I know Daad likes the rhubarb and berry honeys. Just let me know
if you run out of anything, and I’ll try to replace it.”

The second box filled, Naomi hefted it, her muscles straining. In her haste to be
gone she’d put too much in the box, but she would manage. Without waiting for a response
from Betty, she carried the box on up the stairs and out to the buggy.

When she came back for the other box, Betty seemed to have regained her composure.
She watched without comment as Naomi carried it to the door.

“Naomi.” Her voice stopped Naomi before she could get outside. “I hope you will not
regret this action.”

Naomi looked at her, arms straining from balancing the heavy box. “Denke, Betty. It
was ser gut of you to invite me. I know my sisters and the boys will appreciate the
quilts and coverlets you are sharing with them.” If they could end on a civil note,
at least, that might be a bit of goodwill salvaged from this visit.

“Your daad was right about your stubborn nature,” Betty said, as if making a pronouncement
from on high. “I hope you will think again before you persist on this path. If not,
your father plans to speak about it to the bishop.”

Stony-faced, Betty held the door open. Feeling as if she’d just taken a blow to the
heart, Naomi walked out.

Betty’s
sharp words still rang in Naomi’s head the next day at worship. She shifted a little
on the bench where she sat in the midst of the unmarried women. About an hour and
a half into the three-hour service, the benches started feeling rather hard, and she
wasn’t the only one to shift position a bit.

Head bowed, she let her gaze steal toward Bishop Mose, who sat in his accustomed place,
seeming to listen with close attention to the minister who was giving the sermon today.
Had there been some special attention in his glance her way when the ministers had
entered the large basement room where worship was being held? Or was her imagination,
or her guilt, prompting her to imagine it?

She fixed her gaze firmly on the preaching minister. She should not let her eyes or
her mind wander during worship, but it was hard to concentrate when her thoughts bounced
around so many different issues.

Behind her a baby whimpered for a moment and then was quiet again. No one would think
badly of a mother who had to take a little one out during the service for feeding,
but it seldom happened. She could remember Leah saying, when Rachel Anna was tiny,
that she’d timed her feedings down to the minute in the hopes that she wouldn’t have
to go out.

Gradually, as the years went by and she grew older, Naomi had moved farther back in
the rows of unmarried women. There came a time when a woman had to accept the fact
that marriage wasn’t for her.

A long time ago, she’d given up all hope of knowing what real motherhood was. So why
was she thinking about babies now? If she couldn’t concentrate on the sermon, she
ought at least to be praying for peace between herself and Daad. The
thought of speaking to Bishop Mose, kind as he was, filled her with dread.

That was not a subject that was any more likely to fill her with the peace of the
Sabbath. And she knew, if she were honest with herself, why she had been thinking
of mothering. It was because her time with Joshua and Sadie was coming to an end.

She had been kidding herself to think it wouldn’t be difficult to give them up even
after so short a time. It would hurt, but surely the hurt would pass quickly. She’d
be busy at the bakery, and Paula’s enthusiasm over the honey sales would help to distract
her.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she wouldn’t see Joshua and Sadie again. She had spotted
Nathan’s tall figure when he’d arrived for worship, the children clinging to his hands,
still looking a bit sleepy. She would see them at worship, at community events, and
often when she went to the farm to tend the bees. Life would settle down to normal
eventually.

She caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye and tilted her head to
look. Sadie was slipping across the aisle between the men and women, as quiet as a
little mouse. Now, what was she up to? Nathan usually kept the kinder close by his
side during worship, sitting with his father and sister and her family.

Sadie reached the end of Naomi’s row and began sliding in, climbing over legs and
probably stepping on a few toes in her haste. The rustle of movement was surely obvious
to anyone looking their way.

Sadie stopped at Naomi’s knees. Giving her a drowsy smile, she climbed into Naomi’s
lap.

Naomi cradled the child in her arms, feeling Sadie’s little body relax against her.
Sadie patted the front of Naomi’s cape, and she might just as well have reached in
and patted her heart.

Naomi held her close. She’d been wrong. She wasn’t going to stop missing Sadie and
Joshua any time soon.

And Nathan? Her thoughts backed away from that topic. It was far better not to think
of Nathan at all.

S
o
this is Naomi’s last day,” Daad said, fastening his jacket against the cold as he
and Nathan came out of the kitchen after lunch. “We will miss her, ain’t so?”

Nathan decided to take that comment as if Daad meant the children. “The kinder will,
but they will be excited to have their grossmammi back.”

“Ja, I suppose. I think Naomi will miss us, as well.” Daad went slowly down the steps.
The flower beds on either side were barren, the few stalks that remained lying on
the ground. Only the hardy oregano that Ada had planted near the porch still showed
green.

Nathan shrugged. “She didn’t look bothered by it being her last day.” That had nettled
him a little, Naomi seeming to show no regret at leaving them.

Daad gazed at him with reproach. “Naomi would not show her emotions in front of the
kinder. She would not want to upset them.”

His father’s words made sense. Naomi hid her feelings behind her calm manner and serene
face, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel them.

He started to speak, but turned instead at the sound of the door opening behind them.
Naomi stepped out on the porch, wrapping a thick black shawl around her shoulders.

“Nathan, can you spare a minute? There’s something I wanted to speak with you about.”

Nodding, he turned back toward the porch. “You’ll be cold out here. We should go inside.”

“I’m fine.” She drew the shawl closer. “I didn’t want to speak of this in front of
the kinder.”

He went back up the porch steps to stand beside her. “Feels like snow in the air.”

She nodded, her thoughts obviously on something other than the weather. “Since this
is my last day, I wanted to talk with you about paying rent for the use of your land
and the shed. Did you want me to pay each month?”

Nathan was surprised by the strength of his feelings. “I don’t want you to pay at
all.”

Naomi blinked, probably surprised in her turn. “But…we agreed, didn’t we? I would
watch the kinder in exchange for setting up here, but after that I would pay you.”

“I don’t think we ever spelled it out, did we? Anyway, you have more than repaid me
for having the beehives here by your care of the kinder.”

“That was easy. I love them.”

There was a flash of emotion in Naomi’s eyes as she said the words, a hint of something
very deep, quickly hidden again
behind her usual calm. But he’d seen the emotion, and it threw him off balance. All
he could do was repeat himself.