The Missing Will (11 page)

She turned to face her mother. “Oh, you mean about whether I want to stay here or sit and watch TV with Dad?”

Mom nodded.

“I’ll stay here. You’ll need my help when the potatoes are ready to be mashed.”

“Okay.” Mom went to the cupboard and took out two cups. “While we’re waiting for the vegetables to cook, let’s have a cup of tea. Would you like regular or decaf?”

“Do you have any peppermint tea?” Kristi asked, licking her lips. She’d had some iced mint tea the day of Joel’s father’s funeral and enjoyed it.

“Sorry, honey. I only have black tea and a pumpkin spice blend that’s decaffeinated.”

“I’ll try that.”

After Mom poured them both a cup of tea, she took a seat at the table beside Kristi. “I’m glad you didn’t have to work today, because it would have been a lonely Thanksgiving without you.”

“I’m glad to be here, too.” Since both sets of Kristi’s grandparents lived in another state, they rarely got together for Thanksgiving and sometimes not even Christmas. Since Kristi was their only child, with the exception of some friends from church, she was all Mom and Dad really had.

She enjoyed their company—even more so since she’d broken up with Joel. Her parents had been supportive, which was what she needed, and had refrained from reminding her that Joel had been a poor choice for a husband. The only thing she didn’t appreciate was when Mom hinted at Kristi becoming involved with one of the young single men from church. Kristi needed the chance to heal from the pain she felt whenever she thought about Joel’s deceptions. It would be some time before she felt ready to begin a new relationship with a man.

Joel sat on the couch, staring at the TV, barely noticing the weather report on the screen. He felt miserable today—not only from the nasty cold he’d come down with, but the loneliness permeating his soul. Last year on Thanksgiving, he’d gone to Kristi’s parents’ house for dinner. It had been a good day, despite her mother’s coolness. Joel had known from their first meeting that JoAnn Palmer didn’t care much for him. She probably thought her daughter could do better than a struggling contractor. Or maybe there was something about Joel’s personality JoAnn didn’t like. If only there was some way he could convince Kristi to give him another chance.

Joel reached for a tissue and blew his nose. He hadn’t tried calling Kristi for a week, thinking it might be good to give her a chance to cool down. Hopefully, she’d realize she missed him as much as he did her.

Remembering how Kristi had been there for him during his dad’s funeral, Joel’s thoughts turned in another direction. The will had still not been found, but he’d decided not to bug his sisters about it until after Thanksgiving. Everyone had been nice to him when he’d gone to Arlene and Larry’s place for Scott’s birthday. Joel figured if he didn’t bring up the will for a while, they might see him in a different light. He wouldn’t wait forever, though, because he still needed his share of Dad’s money. He also planned to talk with them about selling Dad’s horses and sharing the profit. At least that would give them some money until the will was found.

Elsie had invited Joel to her house for Thanksgiving, but he didn’t want to expose anyone to his cold, so he’d declined. Besides, he probably wouldn’t be the best company when he felt so crummy. Scott would probably want another lesson on the harmonica, and Joel wasn’t up for that.

Grunting, he pulled himself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. He felt hungry and was glad he’d bought a few frozen dinners the other day. He opened the freezer and pulled one out with turkey, dressing, and mashed potatoes. “Guess I may as well put the frozen meal in the oven now. At least I’ll have a taste of turkey, even if it’s not the best.”

Joel ambled over to the stove and adjusted the setting. He had time to wait since the oven would take a while to preheat. In the meantime, he grabbed a tray to eat his dinner on and took it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. Then he went to his room and got the comforter from his bed to cover up with while he watched TV and ate his meal.

“Might as well take care of myself, since my fiancée isn’t around to baby me anymore.” He grimaced. “I really don’t like the sound of that.”

Millersburg, Ohio

“Sure wish Uncle Joel woulda come for dinner today,” Scott mumbled as everyone sat around Elsie’s dining-room table. “The night of my party he said if I wanted to learn to play the mouth harp, I should blow and suck.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve been doin’ it for the last week, but still can’t make
schee myusick
the way Uncle Joel can do.”

“Grandpa made pretty music, too,” Martha spoke up. “I liked his playing the best.”

Scott frowned at his sister. “Never said I didn’t like the way Grandpa played, but he never got around to teachin’ me. Besides, Grandpa’s not here anymore.”

The room got deathly quiet, and Elsie sucked in her breath. She didn’t need the reminder that her father wasn’t here. This was the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t shared the meal with their family. Dad’s dry sense of humor and quick comebacks always kept the conversation lively.

Arlene tapped Scott’s arm. “Even though your grossdaadi isn’t here today, we have many good memories of him, for which we can be thankful.”

“That’s right,” Doris agreed. “In fact, I think it would be nice if we went around the table and everyone said one thing they remembered about our daed that makes them feel thankful.”

“That’s a good idea,” Brian said. “Who wants to go first?”

Doug’s hand shot up. “I will.”

Larry gave a nod. “Go ahead, Son.”

“I’m thankful Grandpa let me and Scott help build the treehouse.” His head dipped as he mumbled, “But I wish he hadn’t died.”

Elsie fought to keep her emotions under control. By the time they all said what they were thankful for concerning Dad, she’d have to pass a box of tissues around.

After the meal was over, the women and girls cleared the table, while the men discussed what board games they should get out to play after the dishes were done. Since everyone was full from the meal, they’d decided to wait awhile to eat their dessert of pumpkin and apple pies. Doris had also brought some pumpkin bread from the bakery in Walnut Creek.

Elsie stood in front of the sink, rinsing the dishes, and thought about Joel, while Arlene prepared coffee for anyone who wanted it after dinner. Elsie couldn’t help wondering how Joel had spent his Thanksgiving. He’d left her a message, saying he appreciated the invitation, but wouldn’t be coming to dinner because he had a cold. She figured he was probably spending Thanksgiving alone.

How sad that he messed things up between him and Kristi,
Elsie thought as she ran warm water into the sink, adding some detergent.
It would have been nice if both Joel and Kristi could have joined us today. I wanted to get to know her better.

Elsie’s muscles relaxed as she submerged her hands in the water. She grabbed the sponge on the edge of the sink and scrubbed one of the plates. Most people didn’t enjoy hand-washing dishes, but it felt pleasant to Elsie. The water surrounding her skin was cozy—like wrapping up in a warm blanket on a cold evening. It was one of the simple things that made her feel content.

Elsie’s thoughts returned to Joel. She had hoped her brother would change from his old ways, and maybe the family would grow, with Kristi joining them. But apparently, it wasn’t meant to be.

“I should wipe down the table before we have dessert.” Arlene took a clean sponge from the drawer, and reaching around Elsie, she wet it in the soapy water.

Doris picked up the dishtowel to dry the dishes Elsie had washed, but suddenly dropped it, wrapping her arms around her torso. “I–I’m not feeling well all of a sudden. I think I may have eaten too much.”

“Sorry to hear that. Why don’t you go lie down and let the rest of us worry about the dishes.” Elsie suggested.

“I probably should.” Doris started out of the room but turned back around. “Since we all put our coats on your bed, would it be okay if I went upstairs and rested in one of the kinner’s rooms?”

“That’s fine. You can lie on one of the girls’ beds.”

“Danki.” Doris’s face looked pale as she hurried from the room.

“I think she’s been overdoing it lately,” Arlene whispered to Elsie. “Even though she’s only working part-time at the restaurant, it means having to be on her feet a lot.”

“You’re right. I hope she’s able to quit working there soon.” Elsie picked up her sponge and was about to wash another dish when she heard a blood-curdling scream. A few seconds later, Doug dashed into the room. “Aunt Doris fell! She’s lying at the bottom of the stairs.” His voice quivered. “And—and she’s not moving at all.”

Elsie threw the sponge and raced from the room.
Please, God, let my sister be okay.

Wanda E. Brunstetter

New York Times,
award-winning author Wanda E. Brunstetter is one of the founders of the Amish fiction genre. Wanda’s ancestors were part of the Anabaptist faith, and her novels are based on personal research intended to accurately portray the Amish way of life. Her books are well-read and trusted by many Amish, who credit her for giving readers a deeper understanding of the people and their customs. When Wanda visits her Amish friends, she finds herself drawn to their peaceful lifestyle, sincerity, and close family ties. Wanda enjoys photography, ventriloquism, gardening, bird-watching, beachcombing, and spending time with her family. She and her husband, Richard, have been blessed with two grown children, six grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.

To learn more about Wanda, visit her website at
www.wandabrunstetter.com
.