Are you ready for the big day?” Lyle asked when he entered the kitchen Saturday morning.
Heidi turned from the stove, where she’d been boiling a pan of eggs, and watched her husband wash his hands at the kitchen sink. “I believe so. My only concern is the age difference among those who’ll be attending the class. Counting Marsha, the children range from three to eleven years old.” She shook her head. “Some of the older ones may catch on quickly, while the younger children will likely have a shorter attention span and may be harder to teach.”
After drying his hands, Lyle walked over to Heidi and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “There you go again, worrying about something that may not happen. Remember how you fretted before your other two cooking classes started? And look how well those classes turned out. You made some lasting friendships too.”
“You’re right. I did.”
Lyle turned, plucked a grape from the bowl of fruit on the counter, and popped it into his mouth. “You never know. The younger students might surprise you with their ability to follow directions. And maybe some of the older students will help the younger ones if they struggle or fall behind.”
“I suppose.” Heidi blew out a series of short breaths. “I’m also concerned about how well Randy and Marsha will interact with the other children.”
“Isn’t that the reason you decided to teach these classes—so they could be with other kinner?”
Wiggling her bare toes, Heidi nodded. “It doesn’t mean things will work out the way I’d hoped.”
Lyle glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, then pulled another grape off its stem. “Here, eat one of these. They’re sure good.” He held the juicy morsel up to Heidi’s mouth.
Heidi took the grape and ate it. Her husband was only trying to take her mind off her nerves, but it didn’t help much.
She removed the kettle of eggs from the stove and was about to rinse them in cool water, when she heard Marsha’s shrill cry from the living room.
“Ach! I hope she’s not hurt.” She hurried from the kitchen behind Lyle. Seeing Marsha on the living-room floor, Heidi rushed forward, stubbing her big toe on the leg of a chair. “Ouch!” Guess that’s what I get for not putting on my shoes this morning.
Lyle looked at Heidi, his brows pulling in. “Are you okay?”
“I stubbed my toe, but I’ll be fine.”
They both went down on their knees beside Marsha. “What’s wrong?” Heidi asked. “Why are you crying?”
With tears rolling down her cheeks, Marsha pointed at the scratch marks on her arm. Seeing a clump of gray fur on the floor beside the little girl, Heidi realized what had happened. One of the cats must have gotten into the house and scratched Marsha’s arm. A crying child—a sore toe—she didn’t need to deal with either of these right now, not with her first class starting soon.
Heidi looked at Lyle. “Would you please search for the cat while I put some antiseptic and a bandage on Marsha’s arm?”
“Sure thing.” Lyle rose to his feet. “Want me to see where Randy is too?”
“Jah, please do. We all need to be ready before my young students arrive for the cooking class.” Heidi helped Marsha up and took her by the hand. Then she limped her way down the hall to the bathroom. Hopefully the rest of this day would go better.
“Are you ready to go, Kassidy?” Denise rapped on her daughter’s bedroom door.
“Go where, Mom?”
“Remember I told you last night that I’d be taking you somewhere special this morning?”
“Yeah, I remember, but I don’t feel like going anywhere today.”
Denise grasped the doorknob and stepped into Kassidy’s bedroom. She found her pajama-clad daughter sprawled out on the bed, doing something on her cell phone.
Denise’s muscles tensed, and her chin jutted out. “I hope you’re not texting anyone. And for heaven’s sake, Kassidy, you’re not even dressed. If you’re not ready in the next fifteen minutes, we are going to be late.”
Kassidy sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Late for what?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.”
“Are you and Dad taking me to get a new smartphone?” Kassidy held up her cell phone. “I hope so, ’cause this one’s having some issues. Besides, it’s outdated, and I’d like a better one. This phone is a piece of junk.”
“Your dad’s meeting a friend at the golf course this morning, and we’ll talk about your phone later.” Denise gestured to her daughter’s closet. “Now please hurry and get dressed.” She left the room before Kassidy could offer a retort.
Denise waited a few seconds, then tiptoed quietly back to the entrance of her daughter’s bedroom. Peeking around the doorway, she saw Kassidy throw her cell phone on the bed and stomp her way over to the closet. Then, as she went from hanger to hanger, trying to decide what to wear, Kassidy stiffened her shoulders and repeated her mother’s words. “Now hurry and get dressed.” She pulled one outfit out, throwing it on the bed, then reached for another. Kassidy didn’t realize she had more clothes than some children got in a lifetime.
I hope I didn’t make a mistake signing her up for cooking classes. Denise leaned away from Kassidy’s door and rubbed her temples. Did I make the right decision by not telling her about the cooking classes? Should I say something on the way to Walnut Creek, or wait until we get there and hope she’s pleasantly surprised?
“How come you don’t have to work today?” Jeremy asked, looking at his dad from across the kitchen table.
Darren drank some coffee and set his mug on the table. “You’re kidding, right?”
Jeremy tipped his head. “What do ya mean?”
“I told you earlier this week that I’d signed you up to take cooking classes. And last night I reminded you. How could you have forgotten so quickly?”
“I didn’t forget. Just figured you’d probably get Mrs. Larsen to take me ’cause you’d be working today.”
“No, I made sure today would be free for me. I worked Monday through Friday so I could take today off.” Darren took another swig of coffee. “Thought I’d drop you off at the home where the classes are being taught, then browse around some of the shops in the area until it’s time to pick you up.”
Jeremy’s brows furrowed. “Sure wish you hadn’t signed me up for this. I’m gonna feel stupid taking cooking classes with a bunch of girls.”
“You don’t know that. There could be other boys there too.” Darren put his empty mug in the sink, reached into his pocket, and put a piece of chewing gum in his mouth. “You’d better go comb your hair so we can get going.”
“Aw, Dad,” Jeremy whined, “can’t you at least stay with me during the class?”
“I’m sure none of the other parents are going to stay with their kids. Wouldn’t you feel funny if I was the only one who did?” Darren tried to sound encouraging.
“Maybe. If I don’t like the class, can I quit?”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
Ellen stood on the front porch, waiting for Becky to join her. Ever since she’d been reminded about the cooking class this morning, Becky had dragged her feet. It was out of the girl’s comfort zone to interact with strangers. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want to go. Ellen would not give in, however. She felt certain something as fun as taking cooking classes was what her daughter needed. Perhaps Becky would make some new friends there too.
A warm breeze came up, lifting Ellen’s hair away from her face. The temperature had been rising the last few days. Summer was definitely on its way. She looked forward to taking days off from the hospital and being able to spend time with Becky. She’d arranged her work schedule so she could have every other Saturday off, which would allow her to attend the cooking classes with her daughter. Maybe after each class was over for the day, they could go out to lunch, do some shopping, or visit one of the parks in the area. Walnut Creek wasn’t far from Millersburg and had a nice restaurant, as well as several gift shops to browse in.
Ellen watched the billowy white clouds overhead. Ever since she was a child she’d enjoyed studying the different shapes of the clouds, trying to imagine what her future held and always hoping she could someday be a nurse.
The screen door squeaked open and slammed shut, halting Ellen’s musings. She turned and smiled at her daughter. “You ready to go, sweetie?”
Becky shrugged, dropping her gaze.
Ellen clasped her daughter’s hand. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
“Are you two ready? It’s almost time to go,” Miranda called to Debbie and Kevin as she stood in the hallway beneath the stairs.
“I’m coming, Mom.” Debbie’s ponytail bounced as she bounded down the stairs. “I can’t wait to go to the cooking class.”
Miranda smiled. At least one of her children looked forward to attending the class. In fact Debbie hadn’t stopped talking about the class since Miranda signed her children up for it.
She wasn’t sure about Kevin, though. But at least he hadn’t said he didn’t want to go. Debbie was always willing and eager to help Miranda in the kitchen, which was no doubt the reason she was excited to learn how to make some kid-friendly dishes.
Kevin plodded down the steps, wearing his favorite baseball hat—a gift from his dad last Christmas. Too bad Trent doesn’t spend more time with the kids instead of getting them gifts, Miranda fumed. Even before they separated, he hadn’t given Debbie and Kevin enough attention. But what was the use in thinking about that now? They needed to get going. It wouldn’t be good to be late for the first class.
“Let’s go, kids.” Miranda grabbed her purse and car keys and herded the children out the door.
After everyone buckled in, Miranda started the car. She’d no more than pulled out of the driveway when Debbie called from the back seat, “What do you think the teacher will show us how to make, Mom?”
“I don’t know, honey, but I’m sure it’ll be easy for you to make.”
“How many other kids will be there?”
“I’m not sure about that either. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“I can’t wait to tell my friend, Linda, about the cooking class.” Debbie’s tone bubbled with enthusiasm. “She’ll probably wish she could take the class too.”
“I hope there’ll be some other boys there,” Kevin said, sitting beside his sister.
Miranda nodded. She was glad her kids were open to the idea of taking the class, and hoped, for Kevin’s sake, that he wasn’t the only boy.