CHAPTER FIVE

Naomi called me into the kitchen and asked if I’d like to assist in the preparation of the Christmas cake, although it seemed she had plenty of help. I noticed Anna chopping nuts and Nancy browning butter in a saucepan.

“Isn’t there a saying about too many cooks in the kitchen?” I asked.

“Not in an Amish kitchen.” Naomi added sugar and butter to a large ceramic bowl.

“Really, I’m happier watching.”

“As you like, Maria.” Naomi commenced creaming the sugar and butter. “We’ll eat this cake tomorrow. If you like, I’ll give you a copy of the recipe. It’s the family’s favorite Christmas cake.”

“That would be nice, although I can’t promise I’ll use it.”

“Sure, you will. You’ll get married and have a husband and children to feed.”

“First I need the husband.”

“Troy seems sweet on you.”

I felt warmth moving up my throat to my cheeks. “Unlikely. I hardly know him.” I wouldn’t mention our previous chat on the phone or that he’d given me their address. Or how attracted I was to him.

“Not only that, I think Isaac likes her, too,” Nancy said with a whine in her voice.

“He does not,” Anna cut in. “You’re his obvious choice.”

“Do you really think so?” Nancy’s eyes brightened.

“Yah, to him I’m invisible. Why else would he come back and visit you last night?”

“Shush,” Nancy said, her finger to her lips. She and Anna burst into giggling laughter.

“What’s going on?” Silas sauntered into the kitchen from the utility room, followed by Bart, whose cheeks and nose were scarlet. He removed his damp beanie, then rubbed his hands together.

Linda stepped into the kitchen from the living room. “What are you talking about? Is there a problem with my being here?”

“Not at all. We want you with us.” Naomi grasped Linda’s hand. “Ach, you’re still too warm. You should rest. Have a seat.” She led her to a rocking chair near the stove.

“I’ll make more tea.” Nancy added water into the brass kettle.

“Maybe she should go to the doctor’s office.” But one glance out the window showed me that the snow was increasing; I realized it was almost impossible to go anywhere.

“Let’s wait a few hours to see if her fever breaks,” Naomi said. She turned to Bart. “You look half frozen. I’ll make you hot chocolate. How did you two get along in the barn?”

“Great.” Silas patted Bart’s back. “He’s an excellent worker. Now that our sons are gone, I’d like to hire him. If he wants a job.” Silas brought his face close to Bart’s. “How does that sound?”

“Wunderbar.” Bart sent him a lopsided grin.

“We’re all done for the day, Bart, if you want to head back home after you have your hot chocolate,” Silas said. But that statement made Bart shrink back.

“He’s not going anywhere in this fierce storm,” Naomi said. “We can’t turn him out in the cold.”

“I think he should be with his parents for Christmas.”

“My Dat told me not to return.” Bart’s words came out in a whisper.

“Ever?” Silas asked. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what Dat said after the accident. I left the gate open and his favorite draft horse wandered out onto the road, where he was struck by a truck.” All of us cringed. “The horse recovered, but Dat is still furious.” Bart hung his head. “It was my negligence. I’ve always been a disappointment.”

“I don’t recall hearing about this,” Silas said. “Where do they live now?”

“Up by New Holland.”

“They must be worried sick about you.” Nancy poured milk into a small pot, set it atop the stove. “But let’s not fret about it right now.”

Five minutes later, Naomi escorted Linda back into the living room. I brought a fresh cup of tea to Linda, who sank down into the couch as if the cushions could swallow her.

Naomi draped a shawl around Linda’s shoulders and a blanket across her lap. “Linda needs to eat,” Naomi said. “She’s skin and bones.”

“I could bring her a tray when there’s something ready,” I said.

“Denki. I’d appreciate that.”

As Linda sipped the tea, her gaze latched on to mine. When Naomi returned to the kitchen, I decided there was no time like the present. Linda’s cough could spiral into pneumonia. She could end up in the hospital tonight and pass away.

“Linda, please forgive me for being so forward, but I have a question for you.” My heart pounded in my ears as I formulated my words. “My adoptive parents lived in Hartford, Connecticut. Have you ever been there?”

“I don’t recall.” Her face twisted. “What gives you the right to ask me personal questions?”

“I’m sorry.” How could I have been so thoughtless on the anniversary of her husband’s death? “I won’t trouble you again.”

I returned to the kitchen to see Naomi arranging slices of whole wheat buttered toast upon a plate, along with blackberry jam. She placed them on a tray and I carried it into the living room. But Linda would not allow me to place the tray in her lap.

“I’m still not hungry.”

“Maybe later.” I set the tray on the coffee table. “Naomi says you should try to get some food in you. I can bring you more tea if you need it.”

“No. Now leave me alone.”

The snarl in her voice startled me. I tried to decipher my warring emotions. I needed to accept the fact that Linda was not my mother either. Did I even want a mother like her?

Laughter and chatter erupted from the kitchen as the back door opened and shut.

“Hey, there. How’s it going?” Troy asked as he entered the living room with Nancy in tow.

“What brings you back out in this terrible weather?” I said.

“I wanted to find out if Linda feels better. And I brought my mother, who’s a nurse practitioner.”

“I’m fine,” Linda answered, followed by a cough.

“Too late, Linda,” Troy said, his voice upbeat. “My mother’s in the kitchen. Her office is closed today. Would you mind if she gives you a quick exam? She brought along a stethoscope.”

“I’m sure I’m fine.” Linda glanced toward the women’s voices in the kitchen.

A moment later, a tall lady strode through the door and into the living room. “I think we’ve met, Linda, but in case you don’t remember me, I’m the Millers’ neighbor, Charlene Bennett.” She shook Linda’s limp hand. “How about if I check you over?” Charlene, who must have been in her early sixties, wore her dark hair pulled into a bun, slacks, and a red cardigan over a turtleneck.

“I don’t want to put you to any trouble.” Linda’s voice waned to a whisper.

Charlene extracted a thermometer from her bag and put it under Linda’s tongue, then palpated her upper neck.

“Is your throat sore?”

Linda nodded.

Charlene checked the thermometer. “You’re running a low fever, so nothing to worry about—yet. But we need to keep an eye on you.”

Charlene used a tongue depressor and flashlight to check Linda’s throat. “You poor thing, that’s got to hurt.”

“Well?” Troy said as we hovered in silence. “How is she?”

Charlene raised her brows. “Patience has never been your virtue, son.” She glanced at me as if she’d been including me in the statement. I wondered if he’d told her about me, and if so, what he’d said.

Charlene brought out her stethoscope and listened to Linda’s lungs, first in the front and then her back. “Please take a deep breath.” A moment later, she said, “Now another.”

Linda sputtered a few times, trying to cover her mouth.

“I suspect you’re getting laryngitis, Linda,” Charlene said. “Don’t try to talk or whisper. It will only make your larynx worse.”

In my mind, I prayed for Linda. Being around the Millers, who wore their faith on their sleeves, must have been rubbing off on me. I felt as though I’d been brought to this house for a reason. Why else would God hurl me into this zany situation?

Naomi entered the room. “What do you think, Char?”

“You know I’m not a physician and this isn’t an official call, but my opinion is that she has a nasty cold verging on bronchitis. Probably a virus. For today, I recommend you keep her quiet and hydrated. I’ll come back tomorrow and give her another looking-over. I’m not worried about catching it. At work, I’m around sick people all day.”

“But tomorrow is Christmas.”

“Then consider it my gift to you.”

“I’d better come, too.” Troy set his gaze on me. When his mother smirked at him, he said, “Well, don’t you want a ride, Mom?”

“Sure, although we’re only next door.”

“But the storm’s so bad. And it’s a bit of a walk.”

“Okay. I will certainly want to see how our patient’s doing.” She turned to Naomi. “If she gets any worse, please call us. Troy or my husband can drive her to an urgent care facility.”

Linda started to protest, but nothing came out of her mouth.

“Save your voice,” Charlene said. She turned to Naomi. “Do you have a thermometer?”

“Yes. I should have thought to use it immediately.”

“Take her temperature again in a few hours, and let me know if it’s gone up.”

“All right, I’ll call you from the phone shanty.”

“That little shack is buried in snow.” Troy looked at me. “Maria, do you have a phone with you?”

“I do, but it’s probably dead by now.”

“If you give me your phone, I’ll charge it and bring it back in a couple hours. And check on Linda’s temperature.”

I nodded, then went upstairs and retrieved my phone. I hesitated as I handed it to him, not that it was doing me any good right now. Did I actually expect an important call? No. And I wanted to see Troy again.

Linda’s eyelids drooped. Naomi scooted her around so that Linda could stretch out on the couch, then she and Charlene covered her with the blanket. Naomi beckoned us all to come into the kitchen.

Charlene put her stethoscope into her bag. “I wish I could do more for her, but if what she has is a virus, it will have to run its course.” She closed the bag and fastened the latch. “Promise to call if you need me or call 9-1-1. But my guess is they’re running behind on a day like today.”

“We can’t thank you enough.” Naomi embraced her.

“My pleasure. You know that.” Charlene shoved one arm into her down jacket. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“And thanks for the holly.” Naomi helped her with her other arm. I looked to the counter and saw sprigs of red-berried holly and evergreens, giving the room a festive look and emitting a lovely aroma.

“That was Troy’s idea. He braved the storm to clip them.”

“I ran it past Silas to get his approval,” Troy said.

“Yah.” Silas, sitting at the table with Bart, nodded.

“They’re beautiful,” I said. Glancing at Troy, I felt another zing of attraction.

“Glad you like them.” Troy grinned.

“I’d better run. I have my own baking to do.” Charlene nudged Troy. “And my husband’s in front of the TV watching football and will want a snack.”

Troy’s eyes locked on to mine for what seemed like forever. “See you later, Maria, after I charge your phone.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but chemistry was buzzing between us.

Knuckles rapped on the back door, then the door swung open as Isaac let himself in. He entered the kitchen, carrying a brown paper bag full of greenery. “Sorry to stop by uninvited, but I cut these for you. I didn’t figure anyone in this house would wish to forage around outside.”

He scanned the counter. “Ach, looks like someone beat me to it.” He zeroed in on Troy, who seemed to be suppressing a satisfied smirk.

Nancy shot to her feet. “Thank you so much. We can decorate the whole house this afternoon.” She addressed her father. “Dat, could we have a decorating party, since we won’t be out caroling this year?”

“Yah, as long as you don’t go overboard.”

“Did you hear that, Anna?” Nancy clapped her hands. “We’ll decorate the house, bake cookies, make popcorn, and play board games. Since Troy and Isaac brought the decorations, they can help.”

“That okay with you, Mom?” Troy asked. “We open our presents tomorrow morning anyway.”

The corners of Charlene’s mouth tipped up. “Sure, although I thought you wanted to watch the game today.”

“I did, but this will be more fun.” He slipped on his jacket. “I will see you all later.”

As he and Charlene headed out the back door, I felt a sense of loss. What was happening to me?