Naomi’s Christmas (7 page)

“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
did. 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.”

N
athan
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 explanation 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.

Sadie, who had been building a house with blocks in the corner of the kitchen, skipped
across the room to grasp Naomi’s apron. “Can I have a snack, please, Naomi? I’m awful
hungry.”

“You are, are you? Well, supper is ready when your daadi comes in. In the meantime,
what about a carrot stick?” She offered the saucer of carrot and celery sticks she’d
cleaned for supper.

Sadie tilted her head to one side. “I’d rather have a cookie.”

“Cookies are for dessert. You can have some carrots and celery now.”

Sadie looked for a moment as if she’d protest, but when Joshua left his game behind
to grab a handful of carrots, she changed her mind and snatched a few.

“Denke,” Joshua said, mindful of his manners. “Are you going to have supper with us,
Naomi?”

“I’m afraid not. I have to drive into town to the bakery, and if I stay any longer,
it will be dark by the time I get there.”

“I wish you could stay and put us to bed,” Sadie said. “Daadi isn’t so gut at that
as Grossmammi. She likes to snuggle and tell stories.”

“Maybe you should tell Daadi that’s what you like,” she suggested. “Sometimes daadis
don’t think of things like that.” She put an arm around Sadie and hugged her, then
tickled her until she giggled.

What she’d said was true enough—men didn’t seem to take naturally to hugs and snuggles
as women did with young ones. But she would think Nathan would make an extra effort
in that way, just because Ada was no longer here.

“I don’t see why it has to get dark so early,” Sadie said, with a quicksilver change
of subject. “I wish it stayed light so we could play outside after supper.” She climbed
on a chair so that she could see out the window, making a face at the gathering dusk.

“It’s the change of seasons,” Joshua said. “Everyone knows that, silly.”

“I’m not silly,” Sadie retorted. “We could have fall and winter and still have it
be light out, couldn’t we?”

“I’m afraid not.” Naomi suppressed a smile at the child’s reasoning. “You see, God
made the earth to turn so that each part of it would get springtime and harvest time
and even winter, when the plants sleep and get ready to come back again in the spring.
Every one of God’s creatures needs a rest time, rabbits and raspberries and even little
girls.”

Joshua nodded. “That’s why Daadi and Grossdaadi and Isaiah cut all the corn and the
hay, so that we would have enough to feed the animals all winter long.” He spoke with
the lofty assurance of the older brother. “Maybe next year I can help, Grossdaadi
says.”