Esther saw Joe pick up Chester from the dairy the next morning. While she wasn’t sure he was going to listen to her and leave Sunrise, she did want to make sure she wouldn’t run into him at the farm. She wanted him to keep his distance. She knew that much. What she didn’t know was what to do about the new information she had about his lies.
She had her garden weeded before the sun was completely up, and after breakfast, she and Daisy went to gather what Mrs. White had for donations. The woman stood out on the porch as Esther loaded the goods onto the open buggy. Esther breathed heavily after loading everything up. Many of the goods had come from Esther’s cooking, baking, canning, or gardening, and the milk came from Mrs. White’s cows. Today the open buggy was fuller than usual.
“Your father left the same year that Mr. White died.” Mrs. White puffed on a long cigarette. When had she started smoking again? Esther remembered that years earlier, when the Whites had young children, that the elegant woman occasionally smoked, but it had been a long time. “Your mother and I lost our husbands within months of each other.”
Esther stopped and turned toward Mrs. White. In all the years that she’d been working for the woman, she had never once talked about Mr. White or Leah Detweiler. Any insinuation to her circumstances were never personal.
“You probably don’t remember Mr. White, do you?” Mrs. White walked closer to Esther and leaned against the buggy. At this, Esther signed to Daisy to go play on the swing and sandbox. She ran off without a glance back.
Esther shook her head. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“He was a wonderful man,” she said with a smile and let her eyes graze over the expansive field across the road. “He and your father were friends.”
Mrs. White’s eyes twinkled when she caught Esther’s gaze.
“They were so much alike.”
Esther’s brows knitted together, and she tilted her head. That was the last thing she’d expected Mrs. White to say.
“How is that?”
Mrs. White mused over the question for several moments. “Well, they were hard workers, and they loved to joke and laugh. They both loved their cigars too much and playing cards. When you were a baby and Orpha would watch you, your parents would come over and we’d play cards together every Friday evening.”
Hearing all of this made Esther’s heart heavier. If Chester had told her these stories, she would’ve thought he was lying. But Mrs. White wasn’t a liar—she was honest to a fault—and Esther believed every word she said.
“I had no idea.” Esther leaned against the open end of the buggy and stared out at the same open land as her employer. They’d never shared such quiet and easy moments together.
“When Chester was drafted, Leah was petrified.”
Esther turned toward her.
“Tell me more, Mrs. White. All of this has been—” Esther shook her head, trying to find the right words. “It’s all been so—”
“Yes,” Esther whispered.
“Leah ran over the day before Chester was to leave. She had always been a fitful woman—easily thrown in a tizzy, you understand. You’re not like her. You’re far more your father’s daughter.”
She wanted to interrupt at this comment, but Mrs. White continued.
“I remember making her some tea, and we sat right there on the front porch.” She pointed. “Of course, that was before I screened it in. She told me that she was expecting a baby. It was still very early.”
“A baby?”
“She just knew that if Chester left, they’d make him go as a noncombatant and he’d die somewhere far away. I could barely calm her down from the mere thought of it. But I did.”
“How’s that?” Esther put her hands on her hips, trying to catch all the cool air she could.
“I told her that he wouldn’t be sent anywhere if he didn’t have a trigger finger.” Her voice was almost dreamlike, almost as if she didn’t mean to say it aloud.
“It was your idea? You’re the reason . . .” Esther couldn’t finish.
“Now, Esther. Leah was my best friend, and when I said what I did, I never thought she’d take me seriously. I never thought she’d—”
“But she did go through with it.” Esther couldn’t bring herself to imagine the horrifying scene of her mother and Chester, the ax . . .
Mrs. White shrugged. “I never did hear exactly what happened. Leah didn’t confide in me anymore after that day.”
There was a long lapse in the conversation. What was Esther supposed to say to that? She watched as Daisy picked tiger lilies that grew around the mailbox.
“Why are you telling me all this, Mrs. White?” Esther asked quietly.
“I guess seeing Chester again after all these years brought back a lot of memories. Nothing happened the way it was supposed to. I always felt that I was punished for giving her such a terrible idea. I tried to visit with her, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Maybe because I knew what she’d done. Maybe she was ashamed of it or angry with me. I wished for months that I could turn back the clock and never have breathed those words to her. But it was too late. God punished Leah and me over and over. It was less than six months, and Bart was dead. Leah lost the baby and then faded away into nothing.” Mrs. White took a long pull of her cigarette and shook her head before she blew the smoke out into the summer breeze. “Oh, Esther, how do our lives become a mess so quickly because of one bad decision?”
“You were my mom’s best friend. I never knew that till now,” Esther said.
“And she was mine. I was so sad to lose her.” Her words were spoken within a long sigh.
“I lost my best friend too—four years ago.”
The two looked at each other, and what passed between them comforted Esther. Who knew that Chester’s return would lead to such a conversation with her employer?
“Thank you, Mrs. White, for telling me all of this. Can we talk again sometime?”
Mrs. White smiled and nodded. “Call me Norma.” Then she smiled again and walked away.
By the time Esther made all of her regular stops several hours later, she realized she’d estimated wrongly and still had milk, canned stew, and bread left. She could already taste the stew in her mouth. It was in fact her stew; she’d canned it last summer from Mrs. White’s harvest. It had just about every vegetable in it, along with some beef broth and even a little meat. It was savory. Delicious.
Daisy’s loud rounded sounds called Esther from her daydreaming. The little girl was pointing and signing play as they passed Angelica Blunt’s house. Daisy continued bouncing up and down and sounding the word please as best as she could.
Esther looked at the box of food left. She knew the Blunts could really use the food. This would be the right thing to do, no matter that she didn’t want to and even if Angelica always refused charity.
Esther turned into the drive before she could decide otherwise.
“Whoa,” she told the horse.
Angelica’s second daughter waved at her. “Hi, there, Esther. Hi, Daisy.” Edwina’s voice was always cheerful despite her circumstances. She waved sweetly at Daisy. The cousins didn’t know each other well because of the age difference, but Edwina was always helpful. “Can I water your horse?”
“Thank you, Edwina.” Esther smiled at her. “Is your mom home?”
“She’s inside. Be careful, though. She’s been feelin’ awful sick. It’s been going ’round the house. Daddy and Geraldina still got it. Mama won’t even sit down for a minute to rest, but she’s not looking so well today.”
She tapped the little girl on the shoulder. “Daisy, stay outside and play.”
She did not want the little girl to catch whatever was going around in the house. She climbed down from the buggy and Edwina helped Daisy down and patted her smooth hair as if she was some type of rare pet. Then the two youngest, Jonna and Paulina, waved Daisy over to the teeter-totter. Daisy was calling loudly hi and waving as she ran.
“I have some food here,” Esther said as she pulled the wooden crate out from the back. “I’ll take it inside.”
“Oh, Esther,” Edwina said as she peeked into the box. “Is all that for us?”
Esther could almost see Edwina lick her lips as she looked at the canned goods. Esther reminded herself that she was only feeding one small child and the Blunts had many mouths. An ache ran through her heart as she walked toward the front door.
Edwina opened the door for Esther. “Come on in.” She called into the house: “Mama, Esther’s here and she brought a whole crate full of food.”
A crackling voice stirred in the soiled air. “What did you say?”
Esther wished she could cover her nose and mouth. Angelica turned the corner and stood face-to-face with Esther. “What’er you doing here?”
“I have food.” Esther spoke quietly as she took in the woman’s poor health. “It’s from Mrs. White.”
“We don’t need no charity. You can—” Angelica interrupted herself with a hacking cough.
“I’m not asking your permission,” Esther said and pushed past Angelica’s bony shoulder. “When was the last time you’ve eaten a real meal—any of you?”
Angelica’s shuffling walk came slowly behind her. Esther imagined the air she coughed grabbing the back of her dress and holding on tightly.
“You can’t make food for us.” Esther could barely make out the words over the cough and Angelica’s shortness of breath.
“Mama, leave her be. She’s a nice lady,” Edwina scolded. “I’m going to water her horse. Roberta, come here.”
The third daughter, Roberta, ambled over. She was a bit like her father in that she seemed both overgrown and oversized somehow. Esther hated thinking such thoughts, but it was just so. She was only fourteen, but her oaflike appearance made her seem older.
“Roberta, you help Esther here,” Edwina ordered with a smile. “Mama, you go sit down.”
Edwina marched off and threw a wink over her shoulder to Esther, who couldn’t help but smile.
“She’s right, Angelica, you need to sit. You look terrible.”
“Well, you’ve just been dyin’ for the chance to say that now, haven’t you?” The statement was punctuated with a long stream of coughs.
Esther knew she would get nothing done if this woman wouldn’t leave her alone. The house was a disaster and smelled. She took Angelica gently over the shoulders and led her through the kitchen and past the table, then through the small living room and up the closed staircase, where she suspected were the bedrooms.
“You are going to bed,” Esther said.
“But—” Angelica began to resist but didn’t appear to have the energy for it.
“Donald,” Esther yelled loudly to wake the huge man. “Donald.”
“What, what?” The man sounded drunk, but he was just sick. “What are you doing here?”
“Move over. Your wife’s sick, and she needs to lie down.” Esther made sure not to use any tone that would insinuate a question. The large man obeyed with raised eyebrows and watched as Esther helped Angelica lie down. “Now, you sleep. I’ll get some food ready and help the girls clean up a bit.”
“Geraldina is still sick too.” Angelica pointed out the bedroom door and toward the girl’s bedroom.
“I’ll look in on her.”
Over the next few hours, Esther did exactly what she’d said she would do. By the time she was ready to leave, the house was clean and filled with the mouth-watering scent of beef stew.
“Now, Edwina,” Esther said as she walked to the door. “Don’t let the stew burn. Just keep it on a low simmer. When you’ve eaten tonight, add some water and some more vegetables and keep it going for at least another meal. And remember, there’s a bone in the icebox. Get that out tomorrow and follow the directions I wrote out for you to make some bone broth. After the stew is gone, that will help them get well. Can you do that?”
“Yes, I can. Thank you, Esther,” Edwina said, walking out with her. The girl hugged her, and Esther returned the sentiment. “I can’t tell you how much I ’preciate your help.”
Exhaustion hit Esther while she sat to have supper with Joe and Daisy. She didn’t say anything to him about Angelica but found the two siblings so vastly different. It made her consider Jason, the child whom Joe’s parents had sent to an institution at age ten. The same parents brought up Joe, Angelica, and Jason. How could those siblings be so different? Jason had been considered simpleminded, though now Esther wondered if he’d been deaf like Daisy. Angelica usually handled life in a bitter and mean-spirited way. Then there was Joe.
Since the first time he’d mowed her lawn, Esther had realized that the good man she had known was still inside the war-torn exterior. He’d fixed the porch, and then fixed the shed door that had needed repairing for some time. He’d brought them butter, flour, and several bags of potatoes. He insisted it wasn’t charity, since Daisy was his daughter. With Chester not eating there, dinners had become easier to stretch, and for the first time in years, Esther wasn’t struggling to pay for everything they needed. But now she realized that what she really needed were things that couldn’t be bought.