Now that the sacred knot had been tied, Harley was on his guard not to let his disappointment turn to resentment. The only thing to do was make the best of being Manny’s father-in-law, challenging as it was.
“Let’s use the floral-rimmed plates for supper, Lena,” Mimi said from the sink after Lena had put her pan of corn bread into the oven. “We’re havin’ company.”
Pleased for the opportunity to set a pretty table, Lena agreed and headed into the next room, where the spacious dining buffet and hutch stored oodles of dishes for family gatherings. Two comfortable reading chairs were on the other side of the room, a large wicker magazine basket between them.
Now that she’d had time to ponder it, Lena wished she hadn’t brought up the telephone call to Mimi. She hadn’t meant to disappoint her hostess. Fortunately, while Mimi had been surprised at Lena’s indulgent phone call, she seemed inclined to overlook it this time.
Once the table was set, Lena removed her half apron and went to the back door to look out through the window. Harley and his son Eli were crouched with another young man—tall and robust, and as blond as she’d ever seen—dressing the turkeys. She remembered the last time she’d eaten wild turkey and let her mind drift back to the memory of her father’s exuberance over bagging two big birds. Her brother Wilbur and Dat had always been the biggest eaters, and Lena caught herself smiling, missing her long talks with her oldest brother, especially. Like the time he’d asked Lena’s opinion about a particular teenage girl who would soon be old enough to start attending Singings—just as Wilbur himself would be.
Emma, in turn, had always valued level-headed Wilbur for advice, especially where it involved the fellows at Sunday night Singings. Being the oldest boy, Wilbur was also the brother who dropped her and Emma off at youth activities, making it possible for them to go out riding later with a young man if asked.
“Have ya had a chance to meet many of die Youngie in the district?” Mimi’s question interrupted Lena’s memories.
Lena pressed her lips together. “Well, jah . . . some at Preaching services.”
“Hope you don’t feel ya have to sit at home on the weekends for my sake,” Mimi added.
“You sound like Lydia Smucker.” Lena laughed and glanced toward the back door window. “Did Eli or his friend manage to get a turkey?” she asked absently.
“Not Eli, not this time.” Mimi caught Lena’s eye. “But you could ask his friend Arden ’bout it when they come in for supper.”
“Oh, I’d rather let the menfolk do the talkin’,” Lena said, turning back to glance out again. Harley was removing his protective gloves, and Eli and the tall blond fellow looked to be heading over to the Dawdi Haus. Are they going for Harley’s uncle Solomon? she wondered.
As was often the case, her mind again wandered back to Centreville. What she wouldn’t give to lay eyes on Chris and her other siblings again.
Christmas can’t come soon enough!
———
As Lena had guessed, here came Eli and his friend with Harley’s uncle Solomon, one on each side of the older man to steady him as he limped along with his cane, his gray head shaking slightly with palsy. Eli’s blond friend caught Lena’s eye and gave her a smile before going over to pull out a chair for Solomon at the table, holding the man’s cane while he slowly lowered himself and sat with a sigh.
“Denki.” Uncle Solomon nodded his balding head as he looked up and motioned for the young man to sit in the chair next to him. “Have you two met?” Solomon asked, squinting over his dark-rimmed spectacles at Lena, then again at Eli’s friend.
“Hullo,” Lena said quickly to eliminate the embarrassment.
“Arden Mast, this here’s Lena Rose Schwartz from Michigan.” Solomon pointed his trembling finger at her, a smile on his bearded face. “She’s helpin’ Mimi keep her head above water in the sewin’ room. Ain’t that right?” He glanced at Mimi, who was carrying a large white tureen filled with the meatball stew.
“Lena’s a fine seamstress, for sure,” Mimi said as she set the tureen down near where she would be sitting, to the left of Lena Rose.
“Ach, don’t know about that,” Lena said softly.
“Well . . . if Mimi says so, I know it’s true,” Arden remarked, his voice strong and confident as he smiled at her again. “Real nice to meet you, Lena Rose. I hear ya met my cousin Lydia Smucker. She’s had some nice things to say about you.” He looked at her as if he wanted to say more, then seemed to decide against it.
After the silent table blessing, and all through the meal, Arden engaged Lena Rose and the rest of the family in interesting conversation.
Later, when Arden passed the platter of moist and delicious golden corn bread to Solomon—the corn bread she’d baked—he held the platter steady while the older man chose a generous square. It was yet another small gesture of kindness from Arden, and it did not go unnoticed by Lena Rose.
CHAPTER
7
Lena poured another cup of coffee for Cousin Harley, enjoying the peace of the morning with him and Mimi the day after Thanksgiving. Just the three of them were there in the kitchen for second breakfast, which was more substantial than the coffee and doughnuts Harley and the farmhands had grabbed on their way to the barn before four o’clock that morning.
Mimi was over at the kitchen counter, putting the toasted bread on a plate, when she asked, “Lena, would ya mind delivering Cora Ruth Ebersol’s new coat to her? I think she’d really appreciate it.” Lena had set the sleeves into a coat for the Amishwoman who was too busy to sew for herself.
“Not at all,” Lena replied. “I really
