Chapter 21
Arthur
ALIGHT DRIZZLE OF RAIN CAME down early Tuesday morning, but by eleven o’clock there was no sign of rain, and the warm sun had quickly dried the freshly mowed grass in Grandpa and Grandma’s yard.
Rachel had volunteered to do the mowing, while Emma had another cooking lesson with Grandma.
Today, she was in the process of making cream of mushroom soup, which they would have for lunch, along with slices of sourdough bread and some cut-up veggies from the garden.
“Yum … that supp sure smells good,” Grandma said, moving closer to the stove, where Emma stood with a metal spoon, stirring the kettle of soup.
“I’m letting it simmer awhile longer, and I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Emma responded after inhaling the rich aroma of garlic and mushrooms rising from the kettle.
Grandma patted Emma’s back. “I’m sure it will.”
“Maybe you should sample it,” Emma suggested. “Just in case I didn’t put in enough salt or beef soup base. The sourdough bread might not be any good either.”
“I will test both if you want me to, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” Grandma replied. “I can tell by the aroma that the bread and soup are just right. You’ve come a long way, Emma, so try not to be so hard on yourself.”
Emma shrugged her shoulders and emitted a sigh.
“Okay.” She couldn’t help feeling nervous about serving the bread and soup, knowing Rachel would be eating lunch with them.
She’d no doubt compare it to anything she’d ever made.
Although Emma would not admit it to Grandma, and especially not her sister, she secretly wished Rachel hadn’t felt the need to come here.
It wasn’t that Emma disliked her sister.
But she couldn’t help feeling intimidated by Rachel’s ability to cook and sew without any apparent problems. Emma thought it almost seemed like her sister had been born with the ability to cook.
Of course, that was ridiculous, since Emma was certain that Rachel didn’t start cooking when she was a little girl.
One thing was for sure: Emma had always been aware that her sister knew her way around the kitchen a lot better than she ever did.
Emma turned the gas burner to low and moved over to the sink to look out the window.
She stood watching as Rachel went past, pushing the lawn mower through the thick grass on this side of the house.
My sister is a hard worker, there’s no doubt about it.
She would have made a good wife to David.
Emma shook her head. I can’t believe what he did to her.
The frisky little dog that Rachel had met yesterday ran alongside the mower, barking all the way. Rachel wasn’t sure if the mutt liked to play, was trying to keep up with her, or didn’t like the push mower—hence the rowdy barking.
Rachel paused from her mowing long enough to reach under the band of her apron, pull out a handkerchief, and wipe the perspiration from her forehead.
The day seemed to be growing hotter by the minute, and she was glad this chore was nearly finished.
Just a few more passes on this side of the house, and then she could put the lawn mower away and go into the house, which she hoped would be cooler than the temperature out here in the yard.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Fawn pawed at Rachel’s leg.
“What do you want from me?” she asked. “Why do you keep barking like that?”
The dog persisted, and choosing to ignore Fawn’s continual yapping, Rachel began pushing the mower again, wondering the whole time how Grandpa managed this job in the heat—especially at his age.
She couldn’t figure out why her grandparents continued to live here in this big old house by themselves.
Shouldn’t they be living in a daadihaus connected to one of their children’s homes—or at least on the same property?
Was it by their own choice that they continued to live alone, or could it be for some other reason? If so, what was it?
Maybe I should ask them one of these days, Rachel reasoned after she’d finished mowing and pushed the lawn mower back in the garden shed. The worst thing they could say is that it’s none of my business.
When Rachel entered the kitchen a short time later, Grandma informed her that Emma had made lunch, and all that needed to be done was for one of them to let Grandpa know the noon meal was ready to eat.
“I’ll go tell him,” Rachel volunteered. “Is he still where he was when I went out to mow?”
Grandma nodded. “Jah, and I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if he hasn’t fallen asleep by now.”
Emma, who had been pouring iced tea into their glasses across the room, interjected. “If that’s the case, then I can’t blame Grandpa for taking a nap, because it’s such a warm day.” She grimaced. “I hope the cream of mushroom soup I made won’t cause our bodies to feel even warmer.”
“I don’t think it will, Emma,” Grandma was quick to say. “For me at least, sometimes eating or drinking a hot beverage, or even food, makes me feel cooler on the outside.”
“That’s how it is when our mamm drinks coffee or a cup of hot tea,” Rachel chimed in.
Grandma smiled. “Exactly.”
“Well, I’m really hungry, and eager to try Emma’s soup, so I’d better let Grandpa know that it’s time to eat.” Rachel whirled around and rushed out of the kitchen.
Emma watched Rachel’s expression as she took her first bite of soup. She really hoped it would meet with her sister’s approval. Otherwise, Emma would feel deflated.
All I need to do is have faith in what Grandma taught me, Emma thought as she clasped her hands together underneath the table.
I’ve learned so much from her. When I first came here, I wasn’t comfortable preparing anything in the kitchen on my own, but now I can cook several things and not be embarrassed by how they turn out.
I think before, I mostly lacked the confidence to try.
Rachel’s brows rose a bit, and then she smacked her lips. “Good job, Sister,” she said, reaching over to place her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Your creamy mushroom soup is just right.”
“I completely agree.” Grandpa picked up a piece of bread, slathered it with butter, and took a bite.
“And your sourdough bread is equally tasty.” He grinned at Emma from where he sat at his end of the table.
“You’re turning into quite the cook. Once your sewing skills improve a bit more, you’ll be ready for marriage. ”
“Grandpa, Emma would need to have a suitor before marriage is a consideration,” Rachel stated.
“She already does,” Grandma spoke up. “I figured Emma would have told you that she’s being courted by a nice young man whose name is Ivan Yoder. Ivan’s mother is the one who is teaching Emma how to quilt.”
Emma wished she could crawl under the table with Fawn and stay there.
Of course, the dog wasn’t supposed to be underneath the table, but she’d snuck under there anyway, as she so often did without Grandma’s knowledge.
Well, the truth was out about her and Ivan now, so Emma prepared herself mentally for whatever questions her sister might ask.
Rachel leaned forward with one elbow on the table, looking directly at Emma. “How long ago did this happen, and why didn’t you mention it in any of your letters?”
Grandma’s mouth parted, like she might say something, but Emma spoke first. The question was, after all, directed at her.
“It’s only been a few weeks since Ivan and I started courting, and I did write to Mom and tell her about it.”
“It’s strange that Mom’s never said a word about it to me.” Rachel’s stiff posture and pursed lips let Emma know her sister felt frustrated and probably left out.
“Maybe your mamm hasn’t received Emma’s letter yet,” Grandpa spoke up.
“Or perhaps she didn’t mention it to you because she thought it would be upsetting,” Grandma interjected.
“Why would it upset me?”
“Because you and David broke up, and I’m sure it’s still very painful for you,” Grandma replied in a gentle tone of voice.
Rachel shrugged and mumbled, “There’s nothing I can do about it, and if my little sister has a boyfriend, I’m happy for her.”
Emma couldn’t tell by Rachel’s placid expression whether she meant it or not, but she hoped that was the case.
Even if it wasn’t, Emma knew her sister still grieved for the love she’d thought she had with the man who’d ended up betraying her.
She couldn’t imagine how she would feel if something like that happened to her.
Emma hoped that if she and Ivan ever broke up, she’d be able to deal with it and not let bitterness set in.
“Grandma and Grandpa, there’s something I’ve been wondering about,” Rachel said, looking at each of their grandparents.
“What might that be?” Grandpa questioned.
Grandma leaned forward like she was eager to hear what Rachel wanted to say.
Rachel tapped her knuckles against the tabletop a few times before speaking. “Well, Grandpa and Grandma, I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I was wondering if the two of you had ever considered moving closer to one of your children and living in a daadihaus.”
Grandpa stroked his densely coiled beard a few times, shifted his gaze toward Grandma, and then looked back at Rachel. “With the exception of your grandma’s back bothering her sometimes, we are both in pretty good shape and are getting along on our own just fine.”
Grandma nodded. “Also, we don’t want to be a burden to anyone in our family. As much help as your sister has been around here, she has her own life to return to, and we know that. You don’t have to worry about us, Rachel.”
“I guess that’s understandable,” Rachel responded. “Even so …”
She stopped talking when a knock sounded on the front door, which caused Fawn to start barking from under the table. A few seconds later, the dog bounded out and dashed out of the room with her tail wagging.
Emma quickly pushed her chair aside and stood. “I’ll go see who is knocking and causing Fawn to bark.”