“You go ahead and eat.”
“When will you have your breakfast?” Matthias poured the milk over his corn flakes.
She waved his concern away as she opened a large pot on the stove and peered inside. “I had a slice of bread as I was making the stuffing.” Taking a fork, she poked it into the rising steam.
Matthias crunched his corn flakes, watching her. Dinner would be a feast, as it always was on Thanksgiving. It would more than make up for his light breakfast.
When he finished, he took his bowl to the sink and washed it in the waiting water. Then he caught sight of Mamm struggling to lift the heavy pot.
“Let me do that.” He grasped the handles. “Where do you want it?”
She peered at him, worry creasing her brow. “Are you sure that isn’t too heavy for you?”
“I can handle it easier than you can. Where do you want it?” He couldn’t believe Mamm thought she could carry this pot full of potatoes and water by herself.
Mamm placed the strainer in the empty side of the sink. “Pour it in here.”
As Matthias tipped the pot, the water and potatoes fell into the strainer, filling it. He pulled it back and looked inside. There were still plenty of potatoes in the water.
“How many potatoes did you make?”
“Only ten pounds,” Mamm said as she dumped the first potatoes into her largest mixing bowl, then stood back as Matthias emptied the pot. “Do you think it will be enough?”
“We’ll have plenty. Didn’t Elizabeth say she was bringing potatoes?”
“We don’t want to run out.”
“There’s no danger of that.” Matthias set the empty pot on the counter. “What else needs to be done?”
“We need to set up the extra tables in the front room. I thought the older children could eat in the kitchen, and the adults and the littlest ones will be in the front room.”
“I’ll get the tables down from the attic.”
“Don’t forget the chairs, too,” Mamm said as he started up the steps.
By the time the folding tables and chairs were set up, the front room had no extra space. When the families started to arrive, the house was crowded. Like usual, as soon as Simon and Sally arrived with their five children, Simon took over.
“Let’s get these tables in order,” he said, his voice booming over the girls’ chatter. “Eli, fold up those chairs for now.”
He directed his ten-year-old son to put the chairs against the wall, then moved the two folding tables together into one long one. Matthias had separated the tables so they would seat more people, but he knew better than to argue with Simon. Now that Dat was gone, Simon was the oldest man when the family gathered together, and he stepped into the role as if it was his right.
When it was time to sit down for the meal, Matthias went to find a seat in the living room with his sisters and their husbands, but all the chairs were taken except the one closest to the kitchen. Matthias couldn’t take Mamm’s seat.
She passed him as he stood in the doorway, her hands filled with bowls of mashed potatoes to set on the table. “What is wrong, Matthias?”
“There isn’t a spot for me to sit at the table.”
“You’re in the kitchen today.” She paused and looked at him, her eyes bright with the joy of having the family together. “The children love it when you spend time with them.”
Matthias took his seat at the kitchen table with his nieces and nephews. All of them, from Eli down to his two-year-old nephew Charles, stared at him. Eight children crowded on the benches on either side of the table. Matthias sighed. From his seat, he could see into the living room, where his brothers-in-law were laughing at a comment Simon had made. A comment Matthias hadn’t heard.
He tapped one finger against his knee, waiting for Simon to start the prayer. He tried to push away the growing irritation. He was twenty-one years old and should be the man of the house. But Mamm still treated him like one of the children.
Four-year-old Yost poked his five-year-old cousin Susie, and Matthias glared at him. He should be sitting in the living room with the other adults, not in the kitchen babysitting these youngsters he barely knew. When would Mamm stop treating him like a boy?
The week after Thanksgiving, Ada prepared for the first phase of the Great Cookie Campaign. On Thursday night, Ada had mixed the batter for the molasses crinkle cookies and set the bowl in the propane refrigerator to cool. Early on Friday morning, she shaped the cookies while she preheated the oven.
Just like Dat had tools specially made for working with wood, Ada had collected the tools that made her baking easier. For cookies, she had purchased a dough scoop that measured each cookie to a uniform two-ounce size. She rolled the first scoop between her floured palms to make a perfect ball and placed it on the parchment-lined cookie sheet. When the cookie sheets were filled, she washed the flour off her hands, then rolled each ball in a bowl of sugar. She slid the two cookie sheets into the large oven and set the timer.
As the spicy molasses fragrance filled the quiet kitchen, she washed the bowl and utensils, then started measuring the ingredients for the first batch of cookies for the store. By the time the molasses cookies were baked and cooling on the racks, she slid two cookie sheets filled with oatmeal raisin cookies into the oven. Next would be the sugar cookies, made with the dough that had been in the refrigerator overnight with the molasses cookies.
Long ago, Ada had worked out her baking routine so that she would be finished using the oven by the time the rest of the family woke up. She loved working in the kitchen this early, with the house quiet and no one around to
