CHAPTER 2
Mamm gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.
“Bad news?” asked Gid, looking up from his breakfast and flinching in alarm at the expression on Mamm’s face as she read her letter.
“Ach, du lieva, Gid! Your mammi is going to worry me into a heart condition yet.”
Dat didn’t seem quite so concerned as he scooped another helping of hash browns onto his plate. “What’s the matter, Abigail? Did your mamm accidentally give everyone in the district food poisoning again?”
Mamm arched an eyebrow and glared at Dat. “Oh, Daniel, of course not.”
“Gute. I don’t think anyone at gmay will ever eat tripe stew again—as if they ever wanted to eat it in the first place.”
“So what happened with Mammi?” Gid asked. He had a soft spot for his lovable grandmother, who sent him mittens every winter and cooked bad-tasting food seasoned with plenty of affection.
“Of all the crazy things, she’s buying your dawdi a pair of snowshoes for Christmas.”
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad gift,” Dat said.
“It is if he actually tries to use them,” Mamm insisted. “Listen to this.” Her eyes found the troubling part of Mammi’s letter. “Felty will want to go exploring the minute he tries on his new snowshoes. I’m hoping he won’t get lost in the woods or fall into a lake or some other such nonsense. I know I worry too much, but I’d feel so much better if Felty had someone like Gid watching out for him on his first snowshoeing trip. Gid camps and fishes and snowshoes all the time. He practically lives in the woods. What a wonderful-gute grandson he is. Tell him I’m sending a hug with this note.” Mamm held out the letter and waved it toward Gid. “A lot of good a hug will do us if Dat breaks his neck.”
“Dawdi shouldn’t take up snowshoeing,” Gid said. “He’s eighty-five years old.”
Mamm smirked. “Oh, he thinks he can do anything.”
“Write to your mamm and tell her to get your dat a pair of slippers instead,” Dat said.
Mamm massaged that spot just above her right eyebrow where a headache was surely starting. “She wouldn’t pay me any heed. She and Dat refuse to behave like old people.”
Gid took the letter and read the important parts. Mammi had sent him a hug, for goodness sake. A hug. Her affection tugged at his heart. He couldn’t leave Dawdi at the mercy of a pair of snowshoes. “Maybe I should go to Bonduel for Christmas.”
Mamm sighed, and the tension seemed to slide off her shoulders. “Oh, denki, Gid. I’d feel so much better.”
“And forget about Mexico?” Dat said.
“Keeping Dawdi out of the hospital is more important than Mexico.” Gid glanced at Dat. “Unless you want me to be with you.”
Dat shoveled some scrambled eggs into this mouth. “It’s just nasal surgery so I can breath better at night. The doctor says it should cure my sleep apnea. The surgery’s routine and quick. Besides, your mamm will be there. I planned on you being at the beach most of the time anyway. Won’t you feel bad missing the beach?”
Gid grunted dismissively. “Ice fishing is better than the beach.”
Mamm finally relaxed enough to take a sip of coffee. “You’ll have to stay with Endie Elsie and Onkel Joe. Beth and little Toby are at Mammi and Dawdi’s house.”
Gid smiled. “Even better. Junior and I can go snow caving.”
Mamm reached over and patted Gid on the cheek. “You’re such a gute boy to give up your Christmas in Mexico.”
Gid shrugged off her praise. “It’ll feel more like Christmas with the snow. I’ll have a wonderful-gute time snowshoeing with Dawdi and caroling with Uncle Joe and Aunt Elsie. It may turn out to be the best Christmas ever.”