Chapter 21
L ydia was fascinated to see Maureen the cause of such a chaotic calamity. Lydia had always pictured her employer as calm and in control in all circumstances. But not so. Lydia must not be judgmental, but she would have checked in the oven first. Didn’t everyone know to crack the oven door? She thought of how proficient her mam was in the kitchen. Mam was always the first one up and had coffee and food ready for Dat and the family when they arose.
Lydia admonished herself to stay focused and not burn the hot chocolate. Growing up with no electricity, she’d learned to use all her senses. This kitchen was dark, but she would keep centered on her task. She was used to living with only flashlights, propane lighting, or candles illuminating their home, and natural gas or wood heating. She was not afraid of the cold. Their house had no central heating, which encouraged all family members to gather around the fireplace and kitchen. Not the television set, the way she had since moving into the Cooks’ house.
Ach, she’d wasted so many hours watching TV while the laundry washed and dried when she could have been doing something productive. She was glad her parents couldn’t see her lazing around with her feet up all day, accomplishing nothing and staying up too late. At home on the farm, she would have gathered eggs before breakfast and then helped her mam serve the food to the rest of the family. After, she would have washed dishes and the pots and pans. Then she’d helped her mam clean the kitchen until it sparkled. She had to admit she liked Maureen’s dishwasher. But washing the dishes with her mam at her side had brought her comfort and a feeling of community, knowing that all the other Amish women in the district were also washing dishes.
Inhaling the aroma of the warming hot milk, she continued to stir in methodical motions until she felt heat radiating from her brew, telling her the hot chocolate was warm enough to serve.
“Do you have marshmallows?” she asked, hoping a member of the hotel’s staff was standing nearby.
“Yes,” Molly answered. “Large or little?”
“Any size will do.”
“Coming right up.” Molly shined her flashlight across the room, then came back and stood at Lydia’s side. “I brought you wee marshmallows—the little ones.”
“Perfect.”
“Is there enough hot chocolate for me to have a cup?”
“Yah, I doubt many people will want any.” Lydia was flattered that Molly would want to taste her hot chocolate.
“A mass exodus,” Molly said. “I doubt if all but Alec, your entourage, and the honeymooners haven’t left.”