Naomi’s Christmas Page 17

  “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.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Nathan 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.”

  And why didn’t you come more often? Emma could certain-sure have used your support when Ada died.

  Still, it wasn’t for her to judge. She studied Ada’s big brother, seeing little there of the boy she remembered. The Seth of her memories had been laughing and teasing, with a headstrong streak that led him into mischief more often than not.

  The man facing her looked like any Englischer, a businessman, maybe, with his stylishly cut hair and clean-shaven face. Where was the big brother Ada had looked up to and loved?

  Fortunately for Naomi, Emma claimed Seth’s attention before she had to say anything else.

  “Here are Ada’s kinder. Joshua and Sadie, greet your onkel Seth.”

  Seth smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at the young ones. “I’m very happy to meet you at last. Sadie, you look just like your mamm. And Joshua, you’re almost grown-up now.”

  “I’m six, Onkel Seth,” Joshua said politely. Sadie hung back, not sure she wanted to get too close to this Englisch stranger.

  “Naomi says you were my mammi’s big bruder, like Joshua is mine,” Sadie said, with the air of not quite believing it.

  “Naomi is right.” Seth didn’t make any move to embrace the children, and Naomi was glad he had that much sense. He couldn’t force a relationship with a niece and nephew who had never seen him.

  “Naomi is always right,” Joshua said suddenly.

  Naomi blinked, surprised by his assertive tone. What undercurrents in the room was he responding to?

  “She knows how to make things and all about the bees,” Sadie said, following her brother’s lead.

  “Nobody could know all about the bees,” Naomi said, embarrassed. “They are their own creatures.” Maybe that was part of their fascination. There was a sense the bees would go on doing their own things in their own way, regardless of what went on outside the hive.

  “Bees?” Seth looked puzzled for a moment, but then he nodded. “I remember. Your grandmother was a beekeeper, wasn’t she? So you’ve inherited her talent, have you?”

  “Grossmammi had a lifetime with the bees,” she said, wondering why on earth they were talking about this when they’d come to see Emma. “I’m still learning. And speaking of learning, the kinder have learned something special for their grossmammi.” She looked at Joshua and Sadie. “Are you ready?”

  Joshua nodded solemnly, standing very straight in front of Emma. Sadie, with a slight giggle, hurried to stand next to him. Naomi handed each of them the candle she’d brought for them to hold. Then she moved to the side so that they could see her face while still looking at their grossmammi. She’d promised to mouth the words with them, just in case they forgot.

  “All right?” she said. “Now.”

  “We are two little candles…” Joshua began, holding his candle high. Sadie joined in. She glanced frequently at Naomi to be sure of the words, but Joshua, his gaze fixed on Emma, recited the entire piece without a slip.

  “Ach, that is wonderful gut,” Emma exclaimed, clapping while the others joined in the applause. “It makes me feel like Christmas.”

  “We heard it at the Christmas program at the schoolhouse,” Joshua said.

  “Naomi took us,” Sadie added. “It was fun. We got to have cookies afterward. Do you think they have cookies all the time in school?”

  Emma chuckled, some of the lines of pain in her face seeming to vanish. “Not all the time,” she said. “But the Christmas program is a special time for the scholars.”

  “I want to go to school,” Joshua announced. “I’m old enough. When I asked Daadi, he sai
d, ‘We’ll see,’ and, ‘Maybe after Christmas.’”

  Emma sent an inquiring look over their heads at Naomi.

  “Nathan is thinking about it,” she explained. “Joshua knows all his letters and numbers and he is already printing very well.”

  Emma nodded, but Naomi couldn’t tell what she thought of the idea. Was she thinking that Naomi was pushing in too much, changing the way she’d done things?

  Sadie began telling her grandmother about the presents she was making, and Joshua joined in. Relieved that the talk had moved off the subject of school, Naomi stepped back, letting the children entertain Emma.

  She found herself standing next to Seth and sought for something to say to him. He lived in such a different world now. What was there in Pleasant Valley that might interest him?

  “Do the children remember Ada?” he asked in an undertone, relieving her of the responsibility of finding something to talk about.

  Naomi took a step or two farther away from the young ones, cautious always in what she said about their mother in their hearing. “Joshua does, since he was four at the time. Sadie…well, I think Sadie remembers more the idea of her mamm rather than anything specific.”

  “It was a waste.” Seth’s voice, soft though it was, was suddenly filled with anger. “She shouldn’t have been doing anything so dangerous. She should have known better.”

  It almost sounded as if he was angry at Ada for dying. People did feel that way sometimes. It was part of grieving. But after two years, Naomi would have expected him to be past that point. And after all, how often did Seth even think of his sister in his busy, alien life?

  “No one ever could stop Ada from doing something she really wanted to do,” she said, keeping her voice mild.

  He glared at her. “Aren’t you going to tell me it was God’s will?”

  “I do not think you are ready to hear that yet, Seth. And I think we should talk of something else before the kinder hear us. Are you enjoying being back at home again?”

  He glanced away, seeming to struggle for control for a moment, and then he shrugged. “Pleasant Valley hasn’t changed any, as far as I can see. But I’m not staying at the house, if that’s what you mean. I’m at the new motel out of town along the highway.”