Naomi’s Christmas Page 8

  CHAPTER SIX

  So Emma’s Elizabeth has a healthy baby girl, I understand,” Paula said, working beside Naomi as they restocked the display case at the bakery. “Emma must be wonderful glad she could be there for the birthing.”

  “Ja, for sure.” Naomi paused, holding a tray of fresh-baked pretzels, their aroma teasing her taste buds. “Elizabeth is naming her Ada.”

  “For her sister.” Paula nodded. “It’s natural Elizabeth should name the boppli for her sister, but I hope Nathan isn’t upset.”

  Since Paula was looking at Naomi inquiringly, she obviously expected an answer.

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” What else could she say? Nathan’s face had been perfectly expressionless when he’d passed on the information from Emma.

  The bell over the door jingled, heralding the latest in a long line of customers visiting the bakery on Saturday, and Paula moved off to attend to them while Naomi finished replenishing the case. This had been an unusually busy day in town, maybe because bright, sunny Saturdays were rare this late in November. The sunlight picked out the reds and browns of the last few leaves clinging to the trees along Main Street.

  Naomi’s life was as busy lately as the day had been, but she relished it. Even with going back and forth between caring for Nathan’s children and working in the bakery, she seemed to have more energy than ever. Perhaps she had been getting stale, with little but Daadi and the bees to occupy her.

  It was hard to believe one week of her time at Nathan’s was finished already. Emma had said she might stay away as long as three weeks, if she was needed. And like Emma, Naomi would stay as long as necessary.

  The bell jingled again, and this time Naomi broke into a smile when she saw who had come in. “Leah! It is wonderful gut to see you. You are so busy with the kinder these days that I seldom see you except for church.”

  Leah Glick came straight to the display case, holding her youngest, Rachel Anna, by the hand. Now there was a case of a late marriage with a widower working out. Leah had been the community’s teacher, and no one had expected her to marry until Daniel Glick moved in next door with his three youngsters, and friendship had blossomed into love.

  “The family does keep me busy, that’s for sure.” Leah smiled down at Rachel Anna, who was pressing her nose against the glass case, eyeing its contents. “I slipped out today to do some shopping.” She nodded to her daughter. “She’ll take her time in picking a treat,” she said. “Long enough for you to tell me how you’re enjoying working out at Nathan’s place.”

  “The kinder miss their grossmammi, that’s certain-sure, but we are getting along very well.”

  “Emma will be missing them, too, I guess,” Leah said. “She’ll be torn between staying with the new boppli and rushing back to Joshua and Sadie.”

  “I suppose so.” The brightness of the day seemed dimmed, just for a moment. Surely Naomi wasn’t mourning the end of her time with Nathan’s children already, was she? She pinned a smile to her face. “I’m ser busy with the kinder and the bakery, that’s certain-sure, but I don’t know when I’ve been happier.”

  Leah’s gaze lingered on her face. “You look happier than you have in a long time, Naomi. You won’t take offense if I say I think the changes have been gut for you, will you?”

  “Of course I won’t.” How could she? Leah was a friend, and a more good-hearted person she couldn’t imagine. They’d known each other all their lives, and even though Leah was a few years older than she was, that hadn’t made a difference to their friendship.

  Leah was distracted by her daughter’s tugging on her coat. Rachel Anna pointed a small finger at one of the pretzels Naomi had just put in that case.

  “Is that the treat you want?” Naomi paused, her hand holding a square of waxed paper over the crisp, golden pretzel. Young ones were sometimes caught in an agony of indecision when faced with the bakery case.

  But Rachel Anna seemed to have a mind of her own. She gave a brisk nod, her blue eyes shining.

  Naomi lifted the pretzel and put it on a paper plate for the child, who took it with a shy smile. “You smile just like your mammi, did you know that, Rachel Anna?”

  The child considered for a moment. Then she gave another sharp nod, making them both laugh.

  “Ach, I’m nearly forgetting what I wanted to tell you,” Leah said. “We finally have a date for our girls’ Christmas party. It will be at my house on the fifteenth of December. You will be there, won’t you?”

  Naomi nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Their girls’ Christmas party was one of many such events that would be held from November right through January in Pleasant Valley, as groups large and small met to celebrate. Their particular girls’ group was composed of women who had been in their rumspringa gang, as they called it. Not that Naomi had been able to participate much then, but Leah made sure she came to every Christmas party anyway.

  “It’ll be ser gut to have our friends together, and it’s kind of you to have us at your house. Your poor husband will probably—”

  The bell jingled again, and Naomi glanced automatically toward the door. Her breath caught, the words flying out of her head. It was her father, coming into the bakery on a Saturday, something that was unheard of. And Betty was with him—maybe their first appearance in town since their quiet wedding last week at Betty’s church district.

  Naomi wasn’t the only one to lose the thread of the conversation, she realized. A hush had fallen over the room, with even their Englisch customers alerted by the sudden silence of the Amish.

  Betty glanced around the shop with a tight smile, and conversation started again. Naomi tried to arrange her face in some expression other than shock. If Betty had actually gotten Daadi to bring her into the bakery for a snack, things had certainly changed at home.

  Daadi stared at Naomi, but before he could come toward her, Betty tugged his arm and led him to a table. Paula headed toward them, but Naomi met her gaze and shook her head.

  “I’d best wait on them,” she said quietly, steeling herself for an unpleasant exchange. But surely Daad wasn’t eager to make their disagreement public any more than she was.

  Leah gave her a rueful smile. She took her little girl’s hand, clucking a bit at the pretzel crumbs dusting her jacket, and straightened her bonnet, a miniature replica of Leah’s own.

  Naomi took a deep breath, planted a smile on her face, and approached her father and new stepmother. “Daad. Betty. It is ser gut to see you today. What may I get for you?”

  “You may—” Daadi began explosively, but Betty put her hand on his arm, silencing him.

  “I will have coffee, denke, Naomi. And maybe a piece of Paula’s walnut streusel cake. Your daadi will have coffee, too, ja? And maybe some pie?” She looked at him.

  He grunted. “Ja. Pumpkin, if Paula has it.”

  “Right away,” Naomi said and moved quickly toward the counter, trying to keep a smile in place.

  Leah leaned across the counter. “It looks as if Betty is having a softening effect on your daad.” She kept her voice low, so that no one could hear over the clink of dishes and the murmur of conversation.

  “I guess so.” Naomi couldn’t help the doubt in her voice, but maybe Betty was able to manage him better than Naomi ever could.

  She filled the order quickly and carried it back to the table, seeming to feel many pairs of eyes observing her actions. That was one thing you could be sure of in a small community like Pleasant Valley—everyone knew everyone else’s business. She could remember saying that to each of her younger siblings as they entered their rumspringa years. Don’t ever think word won’t get out about what you are doing. It will.

  Naomi put coffee and plates in front of them, holding her breath. “Would you like anything else?”

  Daad shook his head. Then, at a look from Betty, he nodded toward an empty chair. “Can you sit with us and talk for a moment?”

  With a quick glance around the shop to assure herself all
was well, Naomi sat down, clasping her hands in her lap.

  “I want to say—” Daad stopped and cleared his throat. Then he gestured toward Betty. “Betty has made me happy. I would like to see you make her wilkom in the family.”

  Naomi had never heard her father speak that way, and for an instant she was too stunned to answer. She collected her wits.

  “Of course you are wilkom, Betty. It is wonderful gut that you and Daadi are happy together.”

  Now, if only Daadi would let her go her own way, as well…

  “Denke, Naomi.” Betty, her cheeks maybe a little rosier than usual, put her spoon very precisely next to her cup. “I was hoping you might stop by the house next week. We could do some sorting together. Combining two households is not an easy task.”

  “I’m sure that’s so.” Most of the family had helped move Betty’s things into the farmhouse, but it had been on a day Naomi was working, giving her a good reason not to take part.

  “And it is only fair for you to take a share of all the canning you did this year, ain’t so?”

  Naomi swallowed hard. Perhaps, in the midst of her disagreement with Daad, she had been unfair to Betty, who probably felt caught in the middle.

  “That is wonderful kind of you, Betty. Denke. And I would be happy to do anything I can to make you feel comfortable in the house.”

  “Gut, gut, that’s settled then.” Daad rubbed his hands together. “You stop by anytime, and when you do, I’ll leave you and Betty alone to visit, ja?”

  Naomi nodded. Daad and Betty had clearly come to the bakery with this aim in mind. She felt a twinge of doubt and brushed it away, feeling ashamed. This was what she’d been praying for—Daad and Betty were trying to mend fences with her. The least she could do was cooperate.

  Naomi had returned to the farm as usual on Monday morning, and it surprised Nathan how glad he was to see her.

  Natural enough, he assured himself. Things ran so much more smoothly when she was there to look after the children.

  Nathan slowed his steps to keep pace with his daad as they walked toward the house. The feeble sunshine of the morning had disappeared behind a thick bank of clouds. Daad pulled his knit gloves up under his sleeves and cast an experienced gaze at the sky.

  “Looks like snow to me,” Daad said. “Flurries, anyway. That will make the kinder happy.”

  “Ja, I heard them urging Naomi to go sledding with them once it snows. I doubt we’ll get enough for that, though.”

  Daad shrugged, and Nathan wasn’t sure whether he was expressing doubt over the amount of snow likely to fall or the possibility that Naomi would want to go sledding.

  “Surely is nice when Naomi is here,” Daad said. “She’s wonderful gut with the young ones.”

  Nathan found himself stiffening. “Emma is wonderful gut with them, too, and their grossmammi besides.”

  “I was not criticizing Emma,” Daad said mildly. “Just pointing out that you are fortunate to have Naomi while Emma is away. And it is gut for the kinder to have someone take care of them who’s more their mamm’s age, ja?”

  Nathan nodded, pressing his lips together, hoping he was not being so defensive because he’d just been thinking how glad he was for Naomi’s presence.

  Maybe it was natural to feel a tad guilty at that comparison. He owed Emma a great deal. She’d been constantly present for the children ever since Ada’s death, and he could never forget his debt to her. She’d taken over the kinder and the house at a time when he’d been so dazed he could barely dress himself, let alone take care of his children.

  He brushed his shoes on the mat at the back door and held the door for his father to go in. They stamped into the kitchen, most likely bringing a blast of cold air in with them.

  Naomi stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot, and for an instant her slim figure reminded him so strongly of Ada that he couldn’t catch his breath. Then he realized that Joshua and Sadie were standing on chairs on either side of her, close to the stove.

  Too close. In a few quick strides he’d reached them and lifted both children down.

  “That is too dangerous for you.”

  Sadie’s face puckered on the verge of tears, and he knew he’d spoken too harshly.

  It was Naomi’s fault, he told himself.

  “But, Daadi, we’re making candy,” Sadie wailed, and Joshua looked at him with reproach in his face. “Naomi is letting us help.”

  “Ja, and now you’re going to help by putting butter all over this platter for me to pour the candy on,” Naomi said.

  If she’d been taken aback at Nathan’s abrupt action, she hid it well. She set a large meat platter on the table in front of them and then dropped a slice of butter at each end of it.

  “Use your hands now. That’s why we washed them, so you can work with your hands. Spread the butter all over the platter.”

  Easily distracted, Sadie instantly began to do as she was told, but Joshua gave Nathan a long look before turning to the work.

  Daad bent over the pot, sniffing as Naomi beat its contents with a wooden spoon. “Ah, penuche. I haven’t had that in—well, too many years to remember. We will enjoy that for sure.”

  “It is just about ready to pour.” Naomi gave it a final stir and lifted the pot from the stove. “Everyone step back now, because the candy is very hot.”

  The children took several obedient steps away from the table, and Nathan found he was doing the same. Naomi poured the thick, caramel-colored candy onto the platter, getting the last of it with a wooden spoon. Sadie seemed to hold her breath until the candy was all transferred to the platter. Then she clapped.

  “It’s so pretty,” she said. “Can we eat it now?”

  “Not until it cools,” Naomi said. “That hot sugar would burn your tongue for sure. Once it cools, we will cut it into pieces. You can eat a piece and give a piece to your daad and grossdaadi, ja?”

  “And save a piece for Aunt Sarah the next time she stops by,” Nathan added. “And Aunt Jessie, too.”

  If Nathan hadn’t been looking directly at his son when he said the words, he’d have missed it. But at the mention of Jessie’s name, Joshua stiffened, his small face growing wary, just for an instant.

  Then he was smiling again, leaving Nathan unsettled, as if his son had seen something that had disturbed his balance.

  “Ach, look at the window,” Daad exclaimed. “It is snow-ing.”

  There was a flurry of excitement as the young ones rushed to the windows to stare eagerly at the first few lazy flakes that drifted toward the ground.

  Sadie pressed her face to the pane and then swung toward Nathan. “Can we go outside and play in the snow? Please, Daadi?”

  He had to smile at her enthusiasm. “That is up to Naomi,” he said. “Grossdaadi and I just came in for coffee. She is still in charge.”

  Sadie dashed to Naomi, who was scoring the candy with a knife. Clutching her apron, Sadie looked up at her. “Please, Naomi. Please can we go out and play in the snow?”

  “Hurry and get your jackets on.” Naomi’s smile warmed her face. “We will go and see how much snow there is.”

  The kinder stampeded toward the hooks where their jackets hung, and Daad moved to help them, leaving Nathan alone next to Naomi for a moment. He looked at her, feeling awkward.

  “I didn’t mean to snap—about the stove, I mean.”

  Her blue eyes measured him coolly. “It was the kinder you spoke to.” She moved past him, headed for the door, leaving him feeling as if she’d put him in the wrong.

  Naomi hurried outside, feeling the cold air nip at her as she pulled her jacket on. She didn’t want the children to see her disagree with their father. But she also didn’t want Nathan to put up unnecessary barriers between himself and his young ones.

  She frowned, going down the back steps. Didn’t Nathan realize how often he was saying no to them? Sadie and Joshua had been in no danger. Of course they’d wanted to see the candy, but she’d been careful to keep th
em out of harm’s way. Better to have children stand on chairs to watch than trying to reach for something on the stove, she’d always found.

  Well, it was unlikely she could change Nathan’s attitude in the limited time she had left here. So she’d best concentrate on what she could do.

  Sadie was spinning around, as if she were dancing with the snowflakes that were coming faster and thicker now. Joshua surveyed the sky with anxious eyes. “Do you think there will be enough snow for sledding, Naomi?”

  “Perhaps not this time,” she said, trying to cushion his disappointment when the flurries stopped, and she thought they would. “But soon. How many snowflakes can you catch on your tongue?”

  That distracted them, as she’d known it would. Sadie ran around dizzyingly, chasing after the places where she thought the most flakes were falling. Joshua, in contrast, stood very still, tongue extended, as if he hoped to catch a shy butterfly.

  Nathan came outside, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. He stood for a moment, watching his children with a puzzled look on his face. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re seeing who can catch the most snowflakes, Daadi,” Joshua explained. “I caught five so far on my tongue.”

  “I see.” He glanced at Naomi, his expression cautiously amused, as if wondering if she were angry with him. “Sadie has an interesting method, that’s certain-sure.”

  “I’m not sure whether it will catch her any snowflakes, but it’s guaranteed to make her dizzy,” Naomi said.

  Sadie, spinning wildly, bumped into her father and then grabbed his hand. “You play, too, Daadi. See how many you can catch.”

  Naomi thought for a moment that he’d surely make some excuse about getting back to work. But he put his cup down, picked Sadie up and swung her around. “You are a snowflake yourself, I think, Sadie-girl.”

  She flapped her arms as if she’d take off. It was the first time Naomi had seen Nathan spontaneously play with one of the children, and it warmed her heart. She glanced toward Nathan’s father, who’d come out onto the porch and stood watching them. He wore a startled smile, as if this was new to him, as well.