Moving was far more taxing than Jay remembered.
The moving van had been late—five hours late. Then, the exact moment the truck parked in the driveway of his new home, the heavens burst open. Luckily, that didn’t prevent the movers from doing their jobs. They simply ignored the downpour, carefully unloaded all of Jay’s worldly goods, carried them up the house’s front porch, and at last placed everything inside their new, sprawling, two-story farmhouse. They worked without a bit of complaint . . . but without any urgency, either: cardboard boxes got completely soaked, shoes brought in mud, and tabletops arrived dripping.
By the time the men closed the truck and pulled away, Jay’s money deep in their pockets, his new home smelled like rain and grass and wet cardboard. As he and the boys moved and rearranged furniture—finding out belatedly that some rooms were smaller than the ones back in Ohio, while others were far more spacious—Jay realized he had never missed Evelyn more.
She’d had a true sense about what went where. He had none of that. Neither did his boys. Therefore, they unpacked and rearranged in a hit-and-miss kind of way. It was time-consuming and frustrating, and his back was starting to hurt a bit, too.
“Mark, watch the corners,” he warned for at least the fourth time. “You are going to scratch the table.”
“I’m being careful,” he grunted. “And the table was already scratched.” Setting the small table down and wiping his hands on the front of his pants, he added, “And wet.”
“How scratched is it?” Jay really needed to begin a list of damages that the movers were responsible for.
“It ain’t from the movers, Daed. The mark is from William, when he was three.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t remember hurting that table,” William groused. “Or making the stain on the coffee table, neither.”
“That’s because Mamm let you get away with everything,” Mark announced with a glare. “You always got away with everything.”
“That’s not true.”
Knowing from experience that the blame game could go on for hours, Jay redirected things. “Mark, go back to work on your room. Ben, go find my toolbox and help me put together William’s bed.”
“Any idea where that is?”
“In one of the boxes in the garage.”
Grinning, Ben nodded. “All right. I think there’s only about eight of them.”
“It’s getting kind of late, so we’d best hurry if we can.”
“Sure, Daed.”
Sitting back on his haunches, Jay clenched his teeth as he heard Ben chatting with Tricia, who had shown up about an hour ago. Ben had invited her over, saying she would be a lot of help.
Jay imagined she might have been helpful, too. If she had known what their furniture looked like, knew their house better, and hadn’t been so besotted with his eldest boy. Of course, he knew the attraction was mutual for Ben. Ever since he’d met Tricia, nothing seemed to matter but that fresh-faced girl. Part of him was glad that Tricia was making his son’s move so pleasant. But honestly, the boy could use a lesson or two about managing his time better.
After sending William to his room to unpack his boxes, Jay grumbled to himself, “We’ll never get this done.”
“Oh, I think you will,” Emma Keim said with a cheery smile as she came in through the kitchen, three little girls following behind her like a trio of ducklings. “You men look as busy as a hive of bees.”
Climbing to his feet, he managed to hide a moan as his back protested. “Emma, hello.” Seeing her daughters’ sweet, clean faces staring back at him, he smiled. “And hello to you, too, Lena, Mandy, and Annie. You three look pretty in blue today. What brings you here?”
“The girls and I brought you boys some supper.”
“You did?” His heart softened as he saw little Annie peek at him from behind her mother. She was clutching Emma’s dark blue dress like it was her lifeline to the rest of the world. But she also looked intrigued by their visit. “Did you help, too, Annie?”
Annie bit her bottom lip and nodded shyly. “I helped with the cookies.”
Mark entered the room, William behind him. “Hi, Mrs. Keim. Hey, Lena, Mandy, and Annie.”
Emma’s eyes twinkled. “Hello, Mark and William.”
“Did you really make us cookies?”
“We made you a whole supper,” Lena said. “Pulled-pork barbecue sandwiches, potato salad, deviled eggs, cookies, and a cherry pie.”
William’s eyes turned as big as saucers. “You brought us pie and cookies?”
“I had a little bit of time, so I made you a cherry pie. Then the girls pointed out that not everyone likes cherry pie. So I made some cookies, too.”
Jay felt extremely humbled. “I can’t believe you spent so much time on our meal. Danke.”
“It was no trouble, especially since Frankie ate your pizza. We enjoyed making it,” Emma said. “Didn’t we, girls?”
Three little heads nodded just as Ben and Tricia entered the room, Jay’s smallest toolbox in his hand. “I found it, Daed.”
“Gut. Is there a wrench and a hammer inside? Did you check?”
“Yep. I checked.” Turning to Emma, he smiled brightly. “Hi.”
“Mrs. Keim brought supper,” Mark announced.
“You boys should simply call me Emma,” she said.
William looked pleased. “Can I, Daed?”
“I suppose that would be all right.”
After making sure Tricia and Emma and her girls all said hello, Jay said, “If you wouldn’t mind putting everything down on the kitchen counter, we’ll eat in a little while.”
Instead of going directly to the kitchen, Emma turned to Mark and said, “Have you boys unpacked the kitchen yet?”
“Not really.”
“I wanted to get their rooms set up first,” Jay explained.
“That makes perfect sense. Tricia, would you like to help me in the kitchen? I bet the two of us could get a lot done in no time. That is, if you don’t mind me organizing your kitchen, Jay?”
Ben grinned. “Daed is gut at growing things that belong in the kitchen, not organizing it.”
“That is true,” Jay admitted. “Thank you, Emma, for your help.”
After giving Ben a sweet smile, Tricia followed Emma and her three daughters into the kitchen. Jay did his best not to roll his eyes at the way Ben gazed after his girl.
When they disappeared from view, Mark whistled softly. “Wow. Emma sure has a lot of energy.”
“That she does,” Jay said as he picked up his toolbox.
Lowering his voice, Mark asked, “Ben, do you remember Mamm ever being like that?”
“Nee, but Mamm was sick. Remember? She was sick for a long time.”
Mark slumped. “Jah. I kept hoping she’d get better but she never did.”
William froze, then rushed to his room.
Mark frowned. “What’s wrong with Will?”
Jay had a pretty good idea but he didn’t want to risk hurting his middle boy’s feelings. “I’m not sure, but I’ll check on him in a minute.” Holding up his toolbox, he said, “I’ve got a bed to put together anyway.”
“I’ll go with you, Daed,” Ben said.
“What about me?” Mark asked. “What should I do?”
Ben folded his arms over his chest. “If you can’t figure out something to do right now, you’re hopeless.”
“Hey!” Mark sputtered.
Jay grinned at his eldest as they walked into William’s room. “You should try to have more patience with your bruder.”
“He needs to stop saying dumb things,” Ben said as they stepped over two folded cardboard boxes.
“Looks like you’re making good progress, Will,” Jay said. “You’ve got a lot put away already.”
“And I like the color of your walls. I thought it might be too bright, but it’s a gut color,” Ben added.
William didn’t answer, simply shrugged.
Sharing a concerned look with Ben, Jay grabbed two of the metal bed frames and started fastening the bolts into place. “So, Will . . . You okay?”
“Jah.”
“Sure? Mark didn’t mean to upset you, you know. He always simply says what is on his mind.”
“I know.”
Though it was obvious Will was still upset, Jay decided not to prod any further. Each of his boys responded better when they had some time to think about things. Instead, he concentrated on the task at hand. “Grab a side, wouldja Ben?”
“Sure, Daed,” Ben replied and knelt on the floor to help. Less than thirty minutes later, the frame was fastened securely and the mattresses were placed on it.
After sending Ben to go help Mark with his bed frame, Jay picked up the sheets and motioned his youngest over. “Take a side, Will.” Together, they slipped on the bottom sheet. Next, Jay pulled on the top sheet.
“Hey, Daed?” William mumbled as he tucked one side of his sheets underneath the mattress.
“Jah?”
“Can I ask ya something?”
“Of course.”
“Um . . . what did Mark mean about Emma being so different from Mamm? He weren’t just talking about when she was sick, was he?”
Though it would have been easier to pretend that Mark and Ben had only been referring to Evelyn’s illness, Jay couldn’t bring himself to lie. “Mark simply meant that all women do things differently. Just as each of us are different, different mothers have favorite ways of doing things, too.” The conversation was making Jay uncomfortable. It brought up things that he hadn’t wanted to admit, even to himself. Emma was different from Evelyn. And once again, Jay had noticed that in no time at all.
William shook his head. “I don’t think that’s what he meant. Ben agreed with him.”
“They didn’t mean anything. No one wanted to hurt your feelings, either.”
William glared. “Daed, I know Mark meant something other than Mamm being sick.”
Jay didn’t want to talk about Evelyn. But, he supposed, the Lord and Will had decided it needed to happen whether he was ready for it or not. Now that he had the blue, white, and yellow building-block quilt over William’s sheets and blankets, Jay figured there was no time like the present. He patted the mattress. “Let’s sit down.”
After Will was settled next to him, Jay said, “Your mother was a wonderful woman. She was a wonderful mother and I loved her.” He sighed, navigating his way through the conversation with as much care as he could. He didn’t want to upset Evelyn’s memory for Will or accidentally be disrespectful to the woman currently organizing his kitchen, either. “But Mamm wasn’t the type of woman to be so forthright or, um, capable.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your mother wasn’t much of a self-starter.”
“But didn’t she cook?”
“She did. Of course she did. But she wasn’t necessarily the type of woman to cook for other people, bring it by, and then offer to organize their kitchen. All Mark did was point that out.”
“Do you wish she had been like that?”
Secretly, he wished for a lot of things. But those would always remain his secrets. “I loved your mother for who she was. We’re all special in our own ways, William. Your mamm was so very sweet and had a giving heart, too. She was special.”
“Even when she was sick, she read me stories,” William said quietly.
The lump that had been lodged in Jay’s throat the whole time Evelyn had been dying from cancer returned suddenly. It took some effort to say the words his youngest needed to hear. “She loved to read to you. She loved books.”
“Was Mark being mean?”
“No. He’s just being Mark. You know how he always says what’s on his mind the moment he thinks it.” Giving into the impulse, Jay wrapped his arms around William and squeezed. “It will be okay, Will. And you can always ask about Mamm. Always.”
Pulling away, William nodded. “Can we eat now?”
“I hope so. Why don’t you go find out how the kitchen is going and I’ll check on your brothers.” Jay was glad when William walked out of the room without another word. He needed a moment to think about everything he’d said—and how he felt about it, too.
Closing his eyes, he forced himself to relax and reflect on the things he’d told William about Evelyn. After a few seconds, he realized that he had, indeed, spoken the truth. Evelyn had been very sweet and had loved all of them dearly. Just as they had loved her.
But she had also gone to heaven and now existed only in their hearts and memories.
“Supper!” William called out.
Jay opened his eyes and grinned. His Evelyn was gone, but life had also moved on. They were now in a new home in a new state and supper was ready.
“Everyone wash up first,” Jay called out.
After a pause, he saw Mark run into the bathroom. “I’m so hungry, Daed,” he said with a smile.
“Me, too.” He joined him at the sink, then headed to the kitchen, trying to remember the last time he’d had homemade cherry pie.
Emma’s girls were setting out plates, forks, and napkins when he entered the kitchen. Tricia was putting away a couple of pots and pans. On the floor next to the back door was a stack of neatly folded cardboard boxes. “You girls have been busy.”
“We are nowhere near done, but at least you’ll be able to eat your supper,” Emma proclaimed.
“It was mighty kind of you to think of us. Danke.”
She beamed but looked a bit embarrassed, too. “It’s just sandwiches and such, Jay.”
It wasn’t “just” that. It was more. With a sigh, he said, “I was hoping to get further along but I guess I need to let the boys enjoy their supper.”
“I think so. I mean, I hope so. It’s been my experience that kinner get more done when their stomachs are filled.”
“I think you might be right about that.” Of course, his boys’ bellies were rarely completely full. Jay stood by her side and helped organize the meal.
“We should probably leave now.”
“Of course not. You need to stay with us and help us eat all the food.”
“We made it for you.”
“We’d rather you stay.” He looked toward his boys, who already had their plates piled high. “Right, boys?”
“Right!” Mark said with a smile.
Jay hid a grin. That was Mark’s way. He was naturally easygoing and loved nothing better than a full house or a large gathering. It was obvious Ben cared about little at the moment except for Tricia, but even William looked as if he’d shaken off his doubts.
“Please stay.”
“We’d be happy to, if you’d like for us to.”
In no time, Jay, Tricia, Emma, and the girls were lining up and helping themselves to the wonderful-looking meal. As soon as plates were filled, each headed out to the back porch. The rain had gone, leaving the air thick with humidity.
Once everyone was gathered together, he said simply, “Let us remember the Lord.”
All of them, even little Annie, bowed their heads. Then, one by one, they started eating. After a bit, Jay told Emma all about the truck and the rain and the soggy boxes. The boys added their two cents, and soon the most frustrating day became a good story.
Emma smiled at it all, laughing at all the appropriate times. It made Jay realize again how much he liked the ease of feminine company.
Little by little, he began sharing more about himself, too. Ben told a story about a box of toads he’d collected at their old house, much to Tricia’s dismay. Soon Annie’s laughter rang through the air as Mark described how long it had taken them to gather all the frogs—they’d kept hopping out of their box.
Through it all, Jay found himself meeting Emma’s eyes and sharing a knowing look. It was the kind of meal that he’d always wanted to share with his boys and their mother—but something that had never actually happened. It was the kind of meal he knew he’d be thinking about when he closed his eyes that night. Some moments were simply too sweet to forget.