Eunice drummed her knuckles against the tabletop. “It’s settled, then. I’ll send word to Leah when we get back home. Danki, Levi Yoder.”
“You’re welcome.” A smile touched his lips. It felt strange there, and he realized it was the first time he’d smiled in a very long time.
* * *
“What happened in here?” Mims stood in his living room and whirled in a circle.
“It’s not that bad.” In fact, Levi had just about gotten used to it. Almost.
“Are those cedar tree boughs?” She eyed the mantel suspiciously.
“Cedar is very festive this time of year.”
Mims propped her hands on her hips. “Cedar might be festive, but my brother isn’t. What happened?”
Levi sighed. “Eunice and Tillie Gingerich.” Well, mainly Eunice. Everyone in their district knew that Eunice meant well and all that. But when she set her mind to something, there was no getting her off of it. Case in point, his living room.
Trimmed, fresh cedar boughs lay across his mantelpiece, with white candles dotted throughout. When he lit them, they smelled like cookies. Tillie had said they were vanilla scented, but to him that was the same as cookies. They had brought red pillowcases to cover any throw pillows he had on his couch and a red, white, and green afghan that Mammi Glick had crocheted. When he had protested that it was too much, Eunice waved away his concerns. Ever since Mammi Glick broke her hip a few years back, she hadn’t been quite as agile as she was before. Now she spent most of her days crocheting and working word puzzles. Eunice assured him that her mother would be greatly offended if he turned down her gift of a Christmas afghan to brighten his holiday season. So there it was.
Actually, he kind of liked it. Even though he didn’t want to be reminded that Christmas was so near, something about the small little touches that Eunice and Tillie had left in his house had him feeling a little more comforted about the upcoming holiday.
It was ridiculous, of course, but he was going with it.
Mims immediately lost her starchy attitude. She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with that sisterly love. “I’m proud of you, Levi,” she said. “Who knows? Before long, you won’t be a curmudgeon after all.”
Chapter Nine
“You really think I’m a curmudgeon?”
Levi did his best to make his voice sound nonchalant. It was Tuesday, and he and Mims were on their way to their cousin’s wedding. He had searched half the morning trying to come up with an adequate excuse not to attend, but his conscience kept coming back, telling him that he had promised. So there he sat on a cold morning, headed to a wedding he didn’t really want to go to with a sister he loved almost more than anything else in the world. The things she got him to do.
Maybe that was the secret: stop hanging out with Mims. But he figured that would break his heart. She was his best friend, after all.
Mims stared straight ahead as if she hadn’t heard his question.
Or maybe she was ignoring it.
Or maybe she doesn’t want to tell you the truth.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The thought shouldn’t hurt Levi’s feelings, but somehow it did. Never in his life had he wanted to be a curmudgeon, only a husband, a father, and eventually a grandfather. Nothing special, nothing more than a leatherworking farmer. Or maybe that was the problem—maybe he hadn’t thought past occupation to attitude.
“You didn’t used to be,” Mims finally said. Still she looked straight ahead, so intent on what was in front of her that it took Levi a second to realize that she really had spoken.
“I miss them, you know. Mary.” And he missed the baby. The thought of the baby. The planning and dreaming, and everything else that went with being an expectant parent. He supposed first babies were different than second babies, but he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t had a chance to go through either.
“I know.” Mims patted his knee. “I just worry that you’re going to miss a few opportunities because of it.” She chose her words carefully, he could tell. She was worried that he would become too angry, too wrapped up in his own problems to be able to see salvation when it came.
Salvation? Was that what he was after?
Fanciful words.
“It’s only been two months.”
“I know,” she said. “And in just a few more weeks it will be three. Then, before you know it, a year.” She shifted in her seat and once again kept her eyes straight ahead. The cold had turned her nose red, and her breath crystallized with every exhale. “I worry about you.”
“No need to worry,” Levi said. He injected as much cheer into his voice as any curmudgeon could. And he was proud of the effect, even if he did say so himself. He sounded downright jovial.
“But you can’t lock yourself away.”
“Mims.” His tone was both warning and beseeching.
“You can’t stop living, Levi.”
Couldn’t he? He felt like he had whether he wanted to or not. Though if he was truly being honest with himself, each day was a little easier. That was, until Christmas. “Just let me get through the holidays. I’ll go to as many weddings and get-togethers and what-have-yous as you want. Whatever else you want me to go to. But after Christmas.”
“You think waiting will help?”
He didn’t really have an answer for that. But he was saved having to come up with one as they pulled into the drive at their cousin’s house.
The crowd had already gathered, of course. Family members who came early to help. The attendants and such who had spent
