Darren waited outside the bathroom until Jeremy finished emptying his stomach. He felt like a heel, forcing the boy to come to class when he’d complained earlier that his stomach bothered him. But Darren figured his son might have been using it as an excuse to stay home. If he’d had any idea Jeremy was really sick, he would have called Heidi and left a message, explaining their absence.
When Jeremy stepped out of the bathroom, his pale face and sagging features said it all. “Dad, I’m sick. My head hurts, and my belly’s still churning.”
Darren placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Sorry, Son. I should have listened to you this morning when you said you weren’t feeling well.” He handed Jeremy his keys. “Why don’t you go out to the car and wait for me? I’ll explain the situation to Heidi, and let her know that I’m taking you home.”
“Okay.” Holding his stomach, Jeremy made his way down the hall and out the front door.
As Darren headed back to the kitchen, he berated himself for not paying closer attention to Jeremy. What made it worse was he knew the reason.
Unwrapping a piece of peppermint gum, he popped it into his mouth. I didn’t want to miss seeing Ellen today. That’s the real reason I ignored my son’s complaint.
When Darren entered the kitchen, he crossed over to Heidi and said, “Jeremy is sick, so I’m taking him home. Someone else can enjoy his shortcake when it’s done.”
“I’ll finish Jeremy’s dessert and then bring it by your house after class,” Ellen offered.
Darren smiled. “That’s nice of you, but I don’t think Jeremy will be up to eating much of anything the rest of the day.”
“It will keep in the refrigerator for a few days,” Heidi spoke up. “Since I’ve made extra, I’ll give one to Ellen for you too.”
“Okay, thanks.” Darren hesitated, wishing he could speak to Ellen privately. But then if she was coming by later, he’d have a chance to talk to her then. Right now, he had to get his son home. Darren said a quick goodbye to everyone and headed out the door.
“I bet that kid has the flu.” Kassidy blew out a breath that rattled her lips. “And now everyone here will probably get it, because he was spreading his germs all over the place.”
Denise tapped her daughter’s shoulder. “You can’t be sure. It might be something else that upset Jeremy’s stomach. Besides, if he does have the flu, it doesn’t mean the rest of us will come down with it.”
“That’s right,” Ellen agreed. “In my years of nursing, I have seen many patients get sick with the flu, while none of their family came down with it.”
Kassidy made an unladylike grunt and looked the other way.
“Mom, you’re not going inside when you drop off Jeremy’s dessert, I hope.” Becky clasped her hands together, positioning them under her chin.
Ellen shook her head. “I’ll take the shortcake up to the door, and you can wait in the car.”
“Okay, but don’t get too close to Jeremy. Like Kassidy said, he could be contagious.”
“I’m sure it won’t be him who comes to the door,” Ellen assured her daughter. “Besides, didn’t you hear what I said about the flu? If it even is the flu Jeremy has come down with.”
Becky bobbed her head. “I heard, but I think Kassidy’s right. We could all end up sick because of him. He shoulda stayed home today.”
“Bet he didn’t feel sick this mornin’,” Peggy Ann spoke. “I threw up at school once, but I felt fine when I first woke up.”
Feeling the need for a topic change, Heidi broke in. “Let’s finish baking our shortcakes and cutting up the berries. Then, when the cake is cooled enough, we can go outside and sit at the picnic table to enjoy the dessert.”
Velma paused from chopping to see how Eddie was doing. He’d taken a wheelbarrow full of wood around the corner of the barn fifteen minutes ago and still wasn’t back. She reached under her scarf and scratched her head. I’m sure it couldn’t have taken him that long to unload that kindling.
She set the axe aside, pulled a hanky from the back pocket of her overalls, and wiped her sweaty forehead. Then Velma grabbed her bottle of water and took a swig. Still no sign of Eddie.
“Ouch.” Velma winced, almost choking on the water. Throwing the bottle aside, she leaned down and picked up the axe that had fallen against her knee. Pulling up her pant leg, she rubbed the spot where the handle hit. I’ll probably have a black-and-blue spot by nightfall. At least it was the handle, and not the blade, that walloped into me. She rubbed her knee a few more times, then pulled her pant leg down. Don’t even wanna think about what coulda happened if the blade of the axe had hit my knee.
Making sure she propped the axe in a safer position, Velma looked around. I wonder what that boy is up to. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not off somewhere, playin’ with the Troyers’ dog.
Velma limped toward the woodshed, and was halfway there, when she spotted Eddie squatted beside the chicken coop with his nose pressed against the screened enclosure. “What are you doin’ out here?” Velma came alongside of him. “You’re supposed to be stacking wood.”
“I did stack what I put in the wheelbarrow. But when I was done I decided to come look at the chickens.” Eddie pointed. “They’re sure scrawny-lookin’, ain’t they, Mama?”
“That’s ’cause they’re not fully grown.” Velma knelt next to him. “Why, by the end of summer, these chicks will be fully grown—just like the chickens we’ll be gettin’ soon.”
“Havin’ chickens means a lot of work, don’t it, Mama?”
“Yeah, but we’ll all take turns feeding them and cleaning their coop. It’ll pay off, too, when they start layin’ eggs.”
Eddie tipped his head to one side as he looked at her. “Who’s ‘we all,’ Mama? Papa ain’t home that much ’cause of his job, so there’s just you, me, and Peggy Ann to do everything. It ain’t fair.”
“I know, Son, but we’ll manage.”
“Sure wish Bobbie Sue wouldn’t have run off.” With tears gathering in his eyes, Eddie’s shoulders drooped. “Guess she don’t care about us no more.”
“No, I don’t think it’s that.”
“Maybe she left ’cause you yelled at her so much. It ain’t fun to be hollered at all the time, ya know.”
Velma’s chest ached, and tears blurred her vision. Eddie was right. She did yell a lot. Once more, she felt like an unfit mother, who probably should have never had any children. She sure wouldn’t be getting any mother-of-the-year awards. That she knew was a fact.
After everyone’s shortcake had cooled sufficiently, Heidi asked if Ellen, Miranda, and Denise would oversee the children while they each cut up their berries. Then, everyone would go outside.
Denise smiled. “Of course, I’d be glad to do that.”
Ellen nodded. “Same here.”
“I’m fine with it too.” Miranda got up from her chair. “You do whatever you need to do, Heidi. We’re more than happy to help out.”
“Thanks, ladies. While you’re doing that, I’ll go outside and see if Velma and Eddie would like to join us at the picnic table. I’m sure they could use a break from the work they’ve been doing for me this morning.”
“That makes sense,” Miranda said. “You go right ahead.”
When Heidi entered the backyard a few minutes later, she was surprised to see Velma and Eddie kneeling beside the chicken coop. As she drew closer, she realized they were both crying. Heidi hesitated, wondering how best to approach them.
She didn’t have to ponder things long, for Velma must have heard her coming. Sniffing, she reached up and dried her eyes, using an old hanky, then quickly stuffed it back in her pocket. “Sorry about that. You caught me bawlin’ like a baby, when I shoulda been workin’.” She rose to her feet, pulling Eddie up as well. “We’ll get right back to work.”
Heidi shook her head, watching Eddie swipe a finger under his nose. “There’s no need for that. It’s time for you both to take a break. In today’s cooking class we made strawberry shortcake, and we’re going to eat it out on the picnic table soon. I came out to invite you and Eddie to join us.”
“That’s real nice of you, but I think we’d better pass.” Velma gestured to the smudges of dirt on her face. “I must look a mess.”
“I’m not worried about that, and I’m sure it won’t bother the others either. What I am concerned with is why you’ve been crying. Is there something you wish to talk about?”
A crimson flush crept across Velma’s cheeks. “I don’t wanna take up your time with my problems. You’ve got better things to do than listen to me bellyaching.”
Speaking softly, Heidi touched Velma’s arm. “I don’t mind listening at all. Talking about your problem might help you feel better.”
Velma turned her head toward the house when three ladies and the children filtered out the door toward the yard. “O–okay.” She looked at Eddie. “You go on over to the picnic table and join the others. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Ya mean I get to have some cake?” Eddie looked at his mother first, then over at Heidi.
Heidi smiled. “Yes, you sure do.”
The boy didn’t have to be told twice. He whirled around and took off toward the picnic table like a bee was in hot pursuit of him.
Velma grunted. “My boy has more energy than he knows what to do with. Maybe that’s why he gets into so much trouble at times.”
Heidi motioned to a wooden bench Lyle had built and placed under the shade of a maple tree. “Let’s take a seat over there, and you can tell me what has caused you to feel so troubled.”
Velma followed Heidi silently to the bench, and once they were seated, she proceeded to pour her heart out. She began by sharing details of how her oldest son had left home a few years ago, and they’d lost contact with him.
“Oh my, this is so hard to talk about.” Tears slipped from Velma’s eyes and rolled down her blotchy, red cheeks. The dirt on her face ran down as well, and smeared like wet paint that had been thinned too much. Reaching into her pocket she took out the hanky and wiped it across her cheek. “Then to make things worse, my oldest daughter, Bobbie Sue, ran off with her boyfriend one night last week. She didn’t bother to tell her dad or me, face-to-face, of course—just left a note that I found the next day.”
Velma paused long enough to wipe her nose with the hanky. “I feel like a terrible mother, who must have let her kids down. I mean, why else would Bobbie Sue and our son Clem have run off without tellin’ us why? They both must have hated their life at home. We’ll probably never see either of them again.”
Heidi tugged her ear, thinking about the best way to respond. She certainly didn’t want to say anything that would make Velma feel worse. Help me, Lord. Please give me the right words.
“I’m scared outa my wits, Heidi. If things don’t change for our family soon, I fear my two youngest kids might run off during their teen years too.”
Heidi reached for Velma’s hand and gave it a tender squeeze. “Do you attend church anywhere, and is there a minister you can talk to about all this?”
Velma shook her head. “Never been one to go to church. Hank don’t go, neither. He thinks it’s a waste of time and says there are too many hypocrites in church.” She chuckled. “My thoughts are, if the church is full of hypocrites, then I guess there’s room for two more, because me and my husband sure ain’t perfect. If we were, our kids wouldn’t have turned out so bad.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself. None of us is perfect, and life can be difficult, even when we are trying to do what is right.” Heidi paused to collect her thoughts. “Even for those of us who attend church regularly and try to set a Christian example, we have no guarantee that our children or other family members will not go astray. We do the best we can, and ask God daily for wisdom and strength to endure the trials we sometimes must face. And when things go wrong, and we feel like we can’t cope, we reach out to others and ask for help.” Heidi slipped her arm around Velma’s shoulder. “I’ll be praying for you, and whenever you need to talk, please feel free to share your burdens with me. It always seems to help when I’m upset about something if I talk it out.”
Velma pressed both palms to her chest. “Whew, I feel like I’ve just been to church and heard a great message—one I needed to hear, mind you. Thanks, Heidi.”
“You’re welcome.” Heidi rose from the bench. “Now, should we join the others for a refreshing dessert?”
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
As they made their way across the grass to the picnic table, Heidi sent up a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please show me something specific I can do to let Velma and her family know how much You love and care about them.