Naomi’s Christmas (27 page)

“But, Daadi, there is one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Joshua clung
to his sleeve. “Please.”

“All right. One more thing.” He sat on the edge of the bed. He probably shouldn’t
let Joshua prolong his bedtime this way, but these moments spent tucking the children
in each night were precious to him. “What is it?”

“Sadie and me want to buy a present for Naomi for Christmas. Will you help us?”

“Don’t you think Naomi would like to have something you made?”

But Joshua was already shaking his head. “She sees all the
things we make. She teaches us how to do them. We want to give her something that
would be a big surprise.” Joshua’s eyes shone. “Isn’t that a gut idea, Daadi?”

“Well, ja, I think it probably is a fine idea.” Joshua had obviously put a lot of
thought into the subject. “I’ll tell you what. Next time you and Sadie go with Naomi
to get groceries in town, I’ll go along. We’ll find some excuse to get away from Naomi,
and I’ll help you pick out a present for her. Is that all right?”

Joshua, normally so undemonstrative, actually put his arms around him in a hug. “That’s
perfect, Daadi. Denke.”

Nathan squeezed him, relishing the feel of his son’s sturdy body. “Now you must go
to sleep. You can dream about finding just the right present to show Naomi you love
her.”

He tucked Joshua in again, kissed his forehead, and turned to Sadie. She was already
asleep, snuggled into her pillow with one hand curled against her cheek. Smiling,
he dropped a kiss on her head and went softly out of the room.

He found he was still smiling as he went down the stairs. Joshua was growing and changing,
almost in front of his eyes. Sadie seemed to be changing as well, becoming less like
a baby and more like a little girl. Naomi had a positive effect on all of them, it
seemed.

He could hear Naomi rustling around in the kitchen as he reached the bottom step.
The greens she and the children had arranged on the mantel and the windowsills made
the living room look festive.

Now that Naomi lived so close, she stayed later, cleaning up the kitchen while he
put the children to bed. It was comfortable, coming back downstairs to find her still
there, busy
about some task. It was almost like having a whole family again.

When he walked in, Naomi was gathering up some papers on the table.
She looked up, smiling, when she heard him. “I was just getting ready to go. I’ll
put these away first.”

“What is it?” He thought at first the papers were something of the children’s, but
on a closer look he saw that it was Naomi’s writing. She seemed to have been drawing
something. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into what you were doing. I thought it
was some paper of Joshua’s.”

“It’s not a secret.” She turned the papers to show him, bending over the table and
frowning at them. “I was trying to put together some sort of a label to go on the
honey jars that I have for sale. Right now they just have a handwritten tag that says
honey
.” She shook her head. “I guess I’m not much of a businesswoman.”

“You’re just starting out. You’re not supposed to know everything about running a
business at first.” He sat down, pulling the papers toward him. “Maybe another opinion
will help you decide.”

Naomi sat down next to him. “I’d sure be glad of it.” She fanned the papers out. “I’m
not much of an artist, either. Maybe I ought to stick with what I have and be done
with it.”

She had been doodling, it looked like, trying out different versions of words and
designs that might go on the front of a jar. Some said
Clover Honey
, others
Pure Clover Honey
, another one
Naomi’s Honey
.

Nathan put his finger down on the last of those. “I think you should use your name.
After all, the honey comes from your bees, and you are the one who processes it.”

She looked up, her face a little troubled. “You don’t think it would be seen as prideful?”

Being prideful was just about the worst accusation one could make about an Amish person,
all of whom were trained to humility from birth. He could understand the idea troubling
Naomi, especially now, with folks talking about the conflict with her father.

“I don’t see why,” he said, keeping his voice easy. “Plenty of Amish who create things
for sale put their names to them. It’s not a matter of pride, just of letting the
buyer know what he’s getting.”

She nodded, but he could see a reservation in those deep blue eyes. “Still, your milk
doesn’t say
Nathan King
on it.”

“True, but it does say
Pleasant Valley Cooperative
, and everyone who buys it knows what that means. Besides, our milk sells directly
to people who know us. But plenty of Englisch, tourists even, will buy a jar of your
honey. I’d think it would give them pleasure to put a name to the person who made
it.”

Funny, that he was taking so much time trying to convince Naomi of something that
many people would take for granted. Even among the Amish, there were certainly those
who were more prideful than others, though they’d be the last to admit it.

Maybe that was the key. A person like Naomi, with her genuine humility, worried about
any hint of pride creeping into what she did, while those who already had a bit more
self-confidence than they needed never considered it.

Naomi was nodding, her smooth forehead a bit wrinkled in thought. “I heard Katie say
once that Englischers who come in to buy a quilt from her or a piece of furniture
from Caleb
always want to have a bit of knowledge about the maker. She said they are looking
for something handmade, because so much in their lives isn’t.”

“Since Katie Brand is a gut businesswoman, you would probably do well to listen to
her. Those decorated jars she suggested have sold well, ain’t so?”

Naomi’s frown disappeared in amusement. “All right, you have convinced me. The jars
should have my name. I just wish I knew how to make labels that would look a bit prettier.”
She glanced at the clock. “I should be letting you relax, not keeping you here talking
about my labels, of all things.”

“I enjoyed it.” He found himself wanting her to stay a bit longer. He wanted to sit
and talk over cups of cocoa, laughing over the events of the day.

The feeling was so strong that he nearly reached out to her. He managed to suppress
it.

“I’m in no hurry to do anything, including relaxing,” he said. “I was thinking a cup
of that cocoa you made for the kinder would taste gut, if there’s any left.”

“I kept some in case you wanted a cup. Just let me warm it.” Naomi swept up the papers
in a single gesture and put them in her basket as she moved to the gas range.

He ought to tell her he could do it himself, that she could get on home. But that
odd longing for even a pretense of a normal life held him in its grasp. He’d had it
for a few minutes while they’d talked about her project. He didn’t want it to end
so quickly.

“Did you have a nice Christmas lunch today at Leah Glick’s?”

“Ach, ja.” She didn’t immediately turn away from the stove, and when she did, she
was smiling. “Leah is a wonderful-gut cook, and she made such a delicious meal.”

“And you had lots of chatter about the old days, ja? Talking about who your come-calling
friends were and who talked to which boy at the singing.”

Nathan had a sudden vivid mental picture of that group of girls clustered under a
cherry tree in blossom after worship one Sunday, all laughing and talking so much
that it was a wonder anyone had listened. Ada had been at the center, of course, her
face vibrant and alive.

“Ja, we did some reminiscing.” Naomi poured the cocoa into a mug, holding the pan
with a pot holder as the steam rose in her face. “Someone—Rachel, I think—was talking
about the time some of you boys shot off fireworks and nearly set the woods on fire.”

He grinned, remembering that night. “We were that scared when we saw the flames shoot
up. It seemed like forever until we could get the fire out, but it probably wasn’t
more than a couple of minutes.” He shook his head. “I get scared all over again when
I think of Joshua taking such foolish risks as we took.”

“Joshua’s a sensible boy, and a responsible one for his age.” Naomi set the mug in
front of him. “But you know as well as I do what nonsense teenagers can get up to.
Especially boys. Luckily you have a few more years before you have to deal with it.”

He nodded, lifting his cup. “Aren’t you going to have some, Naomi?”

She’d been reaching for her coat, but she stopped, drawing her hand back. “Well, maybe
half a cup.”

He grinned. “That’s what Daad always says. Are you picking that saying up from him?”

“Maybe so.” She lifted down another mug and poured. “When you’re around people all
the time, you tend to pick up their ways, I guess.”

“Maybe Sadie will pick up some of your calm and patience, then.” He paused, but surely
he could voice this thought to Naomi. She was safe. “I worry, sometimes, when she
goes from being happy to being upset in the blink of an eye. I mean, Jessie is Ada’s
sister, and I wouldn’t want to see Sadie growing up like her.”

The thought of Jessie’s mood swings and uncontrollable temper transferred to his Sadie
gave him chills.

“Sadie is like her mammi,” Naomi said, her tone reassuring. “Ada always showed her
feelings—that was what people loved about her. But Jessie—” She frowned, shaking her
head and staring down into the cocoa as if she expected to find answers there. “What
was normal and lovable in Ada is somehow twisted in Jessie.”

Nathan wanted to repeat the familiar assurances, that Jessie was just immature, that
her tantrums didn’t mean anything. But he couldn’t, not to Naomi, who knew her so
well. Maybe it would be a relief to speak the truth about Jessie for once.

“Twisted,” he repeated thoughtfully. “That is as gut a word as any. When she is disappointed
she doesn’t cry or look sad. She takes it out on other people.”

Naomi nodded, cupping her hands around the mug as if
grateful for its warmth. “It worries me, her being at the house alone while Emma is
in rehab. Emma can handle her, but—”

She stopped, head lifting, eyes alert, as if she’d heard something he didn’t. And
then he heard it, too, coming from the children’s room—an odd, barking, shrill cough
that sounded as if one of them was choking to death.

N
aomi
reached the children’s bedroom a second after Nathan, her heart pounding. Nathan
was already switching on the battery-powered light, and she went straight to Sadie,
scooping the child up in her arms.

Sadie blinked in the light. A spasm of coughing hit her, and her eyes grew round and
terrified.

“She’s choking,” Nathan cried. “Do something.”

Frightened by the terror in her daadi’s voice, Sadie began to cry, that shrill cough
seizing her again.

“Hush, hush.” Naomi held Sadie against her, rubbing her back. Obviously she was going
to have to calm both Nathan and the child. “She is not choking. She has the croup,
nothing worse.”

“Croup?” Some of the fear went out of Nathan’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Ja, I’m sure. I’ve seen it and heard it enough times with Isaiah.” She smoothed Sadie’s
hair back from her face. “When
Isaiah was little like you, he used to get the croup, too. It gives you a funny cough,
doesn’t it? It sounds like an animal barking.”

Sadie nodded, still looking scared, but her frenzied grasp on Naomi’s arm eased a
little. Then she coughed again, and she started to cry.

“It’s all right.” Naomi stood, holding the distraught child.

“I’ll call for the doctor.” Nathan started toward the door, bumping into Joshua’s
bed.

“No, don’t bother to call. Go to the kitchen and start some water to boil in a large
kettle on the stove.” She understood his worry, but it was more important now to treat
the child than to make a probably futile call to the doctor this late.

Nathan hesitated, and it was clear that his instincts all told him to rush to call
a doctor.

“Trust me, Nathan. Please. Believe that I know what I’m doing.” She began wrapping
a blanket around Sadie, talking soothingly to her.

Would Nathan listen, or was his panic for his daughter too great to accept her word?
She heard his footsteps hurrying on the stairs, and then the clatter of a pan in the
kitchen.

Good, he was doing as she said. But she didn’t have time to feel relief, because Joshua
was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He stared at her, looking confused and frightened.

“Was ist letz? Naomi, is something wrong? Why is Daadi upset? What’s wrong with Sadie?”

“Everything is all right.” She had to take a moment to comfort him. “Sadie has a bad
cough, but Daadi and I will take gut care of her. You can lie down and go to sleep
again.”

He shook his head, shivering a little in the cool air of the bedroom. “I can’t go
back to sleep. I’m scared.”

She didn’t want to have both of them up, but she could understand how scary it would
be for Joshua, lying up here listening to sounds from downstairs and imagining the
worst.

Sadie began to cough again, catching her breath on a sob. Naomi had to get the child
downstairs. She made a quick decision about Joshua.

“Bring your blanket, and put your slippers on. You can stay up for a little bit until
we get Sadie settled.”

She carried Sadie down the steps, not waiting to see if he obeyed her. Nathan waited
at the bottom, his hand taut on the railing.

“I started the water heating. But I still think I should call the doctor.”

Naomi hurried on past him and into the kitchen, Nathan following. “If you call, he
will only say to take her to the emergency room. Then you will have to call for Ben
or one of the other drivers to come, and by the time all that happens and you get
her to the hospital, the attack will be over.”