Naomi’s Christmas (22 page)

Nathan came through the doorway, carrying Sadie under one arm like a sack of feed,
with Joshua hanging on to his leg.

“What has gotten into these kinder, Naomi?” he asked, laughter in his voice. “They
want to put on a Christmas program instead of listening to a story.”

“Excitement, that’s for sure.” She dried her hands, turning to smile at them. Sadie,
upside down, was giggling helplessly. Joshua stood up very straight and held up an
imaginary something over his head.

“I’m a little Christmas candle,” he chanted, “shining my light for all to see.”

Naomi’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s pretty close to what we saw today. Did you memorize
the lines, Joshua?”

“I just remember.” His eyes shone with the memory. “I want to do a program.”

She thought quickly. “Maybe I can get hold of one of the poems,” she said. “You could
learn it and say it for your grossmammi when you visit her. That would cheer her up,
ain’t so?”

“Ja, ja,” Sadie said. “Me, too.” Nathan set her on her feet, and she ran to Naomi
and snuggled against her. “It was the best day ever, Naomi.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She smoothed back the hair that had been disarranged by their
play.

“It sounds as if the school program was a big success,” Nathan said. He leaned against
the counter, as if ready to stay and chat.

“Ja, it was. Everyone was so pleased with how well the scholars did. Especially their
teacher, I think.”

He grinned. “She probably had her hands full. I remember how excited we used to get
when it came time for the program. Jumping beans, the teacher called us, remember,
Naomi?”

“I remember.” Her heart seemed to give a funny little twist in response to his smile.
“But I think it was mostly you boys who were the jumping beans. Not us girls.”

“Not you, certainly.” His voice was teasing.

“Daadi?” Joshua still stood very straight, his head tilted to look up at his father.
“Why am I not in first grade?”

There it was—the question Naomi had known would come
from him. Oddly enough, Nathan looked startled, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that
Joshua would wonder.

“Well, I…I guess because you didn’t turn six until after school started in the fall.
Next year you will go.” Nathan said that with a note of finality.

But judging by Joshua’s expression, he didn’t consider the subject finished. “Amos
Zook is in first grade, and his birthday isn’t until after mine. So if Amos could
start when he was not quite six, why couldn’t I?”

Nathan was beginning to look harassed. “It was farther than I wanted you to walk,
and no one was free to take you. It would have been too much to ask Grossmammi to
come that early. Now—”

“Naomi could take me. Couldn’t you, Naomi?” His gaze fixed on hers.

“That would be up to your daadi,” she said.

Joshua swung that pleading look back to Nathan. “You see? Naomi could take me, and
I could start now, couldn’t I? I could easily catch up. I already know all my letters,
and I can print my name and—”

“Don’t argue, Joshua.” Nathan looked as if he was pinned in a corner, and he didn’t
like it.

“I’m not arguing. I’m just saying. Please, Daadi?”

“We’ll see, all right? After Christmas, we’ll see.”

Joshua, taking encouragement where he could get it, smiled and clasped his hands together,
as if he wanted to clap but didn’t feel he could. “Denke, Daadi. I would love to go
to school.”

“Ja, well, right now I would love for you two to get ready
for bed. Scoot on upstairs now. I’ll be up as soon as I have a word with Naomi.”

Naomi suspected she knew what that word was going to be, but even if Nathan was angry,
she still felt she had done the right thing by taking the children to the program.

The look he turned on her was serious, but not angry, so far as she could tell. “That
was what you hoped would happen if the kinder attended the Christmas program, ain’t
so?”

“It was what I thought might happen,” she said. And then, when he frowned, she rushed
on. “Komm, Nathan, you said you’d think about it, ja? I know it’s hard to let the
first one go off to school, but Joshua is ready.”

“I don’t want—” he began, and then stopped. “It
is
hard to let him go off on his own.”

“Not exactly on his own,” she said, her tone gentle. “He’d be just down the road a
mile and a half, ja? With all the other kinder his age.” She didn’t want to have to
say that it was what Ada would have done. He knew that well enough himself.

Finally he shrugged. “You may be right. If Ada were here…” He let that trail off.
“After the Christmas holiday, maybe I’ll talk to the teacher. See what she thinks.
Will that satisfy you?”

She smiled, relieved. “It is Joshua you must satisfy, not me.”

His lips twitched. “That Christmas program has a lot to answer for, I think.”

The words struck home in a way Nathan couldn’t possibly have intended, as Naomi was
once again in that crowded classroom, hearing Mary Esch’s words.

“Naomi?” Nathan touched her arm lightly. “Was ist letz? I’m not angry, if that’s what
you’re thinking.”

She shook her head, her throat tight.

“Komm.” His voice was as gentle as if he spoke to one of the children. “Tell me what
has happened.”

She shook her head, not in refusal but in a futile attempt to shake off the memory.
“Something was said today after the program. Someone had overheard my daad talking
to Bishop Mose in the harness shop. About me.”

“And that someone had to repeat it, ja?”

She nodded, misery weighing down on her. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess.
Betty told me Daad was thinking about talking to the bishop about me. I just never
thought he would actually do it.”

“Your daad…” Nathan paused. “Well, I would not speak ill of a brother. But I think
he is so fond of his own way that he doesn’t see what is best for anyone else.”

“But to go to the bishop about one of his own children—” It was done so rarely it
was seldom talked about. More likely, in fact, someone else might complain about a
youth’s behavior and cause the bishop to talk to the parents.

Nathan clasped her hand in a firm, warm grip. “I won’t say to forget about it, because
I know you can’t. But Bishop Mose is a fair man. You can count on him to listen and
understand.”

Naomi nodded, trying to smile. “You are right, Nathan. I will try not to worry.” But
it occurred to her in that moment that she would rather have Nathan’s support than
anything else right now.

N
athan
stepped off the back porch, looking up at the afternoon sky. Clouds were thickening,
and they’d probably have snow by nightfall. Since he’d promised to take the children
to the rehab center to see Emma this afternoon, he’d be thankful if it held off until
then.

Still, Ben was a careful driver—that was one reason why so many Amish depended upon
him to get them where they needed to go. Even if snow started to fall before they
returned, he’d be ready to handle the roads.

Nathan heard the door behind him and turned, but it was Daad coming out, not the children.
Daad paused to pull on his mittens before making his way down the few steps.

“Snow coming,” he said.

Nathan nodded. Daad didn’t depend on a weather forecaster to tell him when it was
going to snow, any more than Nathan did. When your livelihood depended on understanding
the weather, you learned to judge such things for yourself.

“We should be back before it starts, I think. Ben will be here any minute now.” He
glanced toward the house. “Is Naomi getting the kinder ready?”

“Ja.” Daad smiled. “Sadie had to run back upstairs to get a picture she made. They
will be ready on time. Naomi will see to it.”

They’d all grown to depend on Naomi in such a short time. The least she deserved was
to be able to depend upon them as well.

Nathan suspected he should have done more last night to show her his support when
she’d told him the latest about her father, and that niggling sense of guilt annoyed
him. He certain-sure didn’t want to get entangled in a dispute with a member of the
community, even if his private opinion was that Sam Esch was being both pigheaded
and foolish.

And he certain-sure didn’t want the bishop to think he had anything to do with Naomi’s
choices.

Don’t you?
The small voice at the back of his mind was active.

All right, he had to admit that he had maybe taken advantage of the situation out
of his own needs, but that didn’t make him responsible for it. Sam had done that all
on his own, trying to dictate his daughter’s future for her.

Somehow that argument wasn’t doing the job of silencing the voice of his conscience.
Luckily, at that moment, Ben’s car turned in the driveway, distracting him. He glanced
toward the house, ready to call to Naomi, but she was already bringing the children
out.

Joshua and Sadie ran to him, Sadie waving a paper while Joshua carried another tin—this
one of coffee cake, so he’d
heard. Wrapping a black shawl over her blue dress and apron, Naomi followed them.

“I know you’ll hold the tin nice and level.” She smiled at Joshua with the reminder.

“Ja, for sure,” he said. “Maybe Onkel Seth will like coffee cake. Do you think so,
Daadi?”

Nathan tried not to stiffen. He shouldn’t pass his doubts on to Joshua. “I’m sure
he will.”

The car drew up next to them, Ben giving a cheerful wave and a playful toot on the
horn. Sadie bounced in response. “I love to go with Ben in the car.”

Now didn’t seem to be the moment for a reminder of why Amish did not own cars. Nathan
opened the door of the backseat. “In you go. Sadie, in the booster seat.”

Sadie pouted a little at the idea, but she climbed in, pulling the belt around her.
Joshua put the tin carefully onto the floor and then hopped in.

Nathan was just opening the passenger-side door when he heard a hail. He turned to
see Isaiah running across the pasture toward them.

“Cows are out,” he called. “The fence must be grounded, and they’re into Mickelson’s
cornfield.”

George Mickelson, Nathan’s neighbor on one side, worked in Lewisburg and played at
being a farmer, but while all the Amish cornfields had been cut long since, his still
stood, a temptation to the dairy herd. It would be a job to get the cows back in the
field. Nathan hesitated, hand on the door.

“Daadi? Aren’t we going?” Sadie’s voice had a bit of a tremor.

“Go on to see Emma,” Daad said. “Isaiah and I can take care of the cows.”

But the last thing Daad needed was to be rushing all the way to Mickelson’s field.
“No, we’ll have to cancel,” Nathan said. “Maybe we can go later.”

Daad frowned, probably guessing the reason for Nathan’s answer and sensitive to the
idea he couldn’t do what he used to. “You don’t want Ben to drive out here for nothing.
Besides, Emma and the kinder will be disappointed. You go.”

“No, I—”

“Why don’t I take the kinder?” Naomi interrupted. “I would be happy to have a little
visit with Emma.”

It was the obvious answer, but…

“Jessie will probably be there,” Nathan said quietly. “As well as Seth.”

Her gaze flickered. “It is all right,” she said. “I will deal with Jessie. And it
would be interesting to see Seth again.”

Interesting, ja. But Nathan could count on Naomi’s level head where the children were
concerned. “Denke,” he said.

She nodded. “I’ll just get my coat.”

He appreciated it, he thought as he started across the field in Isaiah’s wake. And
it just made him feel even more guilty.

The
rehab center was a pleasant place, with its bright colors, lively murals on the walls,
and a general air that said, “Good things are happening here.” Naomi had visited in
the past, but never with quite this sense of apprehension. If only Jessie were not
with her mamm this afternoon. Or, barring that, if she
were so preoccupied by the presence of her brother as to forget her prejudice against
Naomi—well, then there might be some hope of having a nice visit with Emma.

“Here we are.” Naomi paused outside the door to Emma’s room to help the children off
with their coats and be sure they looked tidy. “Remember, be careful not to rush at
Grossmammi or climb on her. Her hip is still very sore, and that might hurt, ain’t
so?”

They both nodded, but as an extra measure of precaution she took Sadie’s hand as they
entered the room.

“Ach, here they are,” Emma exclaimed. She was sitting in a wheelchair by the bed,
her hair fixed and her kapp in place despite the fact that she wore a robe and slippers.

“What are you doing here?” Jessie, standing behind her mother, glared at Naomi, not
bothering to conceal her dislike.

So, obviously neither of Naomi’s wishes had come true. She managed a smile, focusing
on Emma as she brought the children to her, glad to see that they remembered not to
rush.

Joshua handed over the tin. “Here is coffee cake for you.” He seemed to give a sigh
of relief once it was safely in her hands. “Can we give you a kiss without hurting
you?”

“For sure you can.” Emma leaned forward so that they could each kiss her cheek.

“Nathan is sorry he couldn’t be here. The cows got out right when he was ready to
leave, and he didn’t want to keep the driver waiting. Or you.” Naomi bent, careful
not to touch the chair, and pressed her cheek against Emma’s.

“I am wonderful glad to see you.” Emma clasped her hand briefly, sending a warning
look at her daughter. “And here is
someone else who was wanting to see you. You remember Seth, ja?”

“Ja, that’s certain-sure. Wie bist du heit, Seth?”

“Fine, thanks. So this is Naomi.” He moved as if to hold out his hand and then seemed
to think better of it. “I would have known you anywhere.”

She smiled. “I don’t think I could say the same about you. You’ve made your mamm happy
with this visit.”