A Heart for Home (19 page)
“All the Indians I know always keep their word. I am sure he will bring Emmy back if he said he would.”
“But Grandma is so sad. Her eyes never laugh anymore.”
“Oh, I think her eyes will laugh again. So we are going out to the farm for supper?”
“Ma said so.” Inga mopped her eyes with the back of her hands. She looked up to Astrid. “Emmy didn’t even get her kitten, but I kept it for her. Benny got one too. His kitten rides in his cart with him. Sure wish I had a cart, but Pa said I have two good legs and don’t need a cart.” She slid to the floor and pulled on Astrid’s hand. “You want to come see me and Emmy’s kittens? They are growing up fast.”
“Is she talking your ear off?” Elizabeth asked when they stepped out onto the porch.
Inga looked up at Astrid and shook her head. “She has two ears.”
“That’s a figure of speech about someone who talks a lot.” Elizabeth patted the cushioned bench beside her. “Come sit here by me and let Tante Astrid catch her breath.” When Inga’s mouth opened, her mother shook her head. “That’s enough now.”
“And the kittens are where?” Astrid asked, taking pity on her niece.
“Sleeping in their basket over there.” Inga pointed to a basket in the shady corner. She started to slide off the bench, but her mother touched her arm and shook her head.
Astrid smiled to herself. Elizabeth was obviously trying to settle Inga down, but that would take more than a couple of weeks. “It feels like I was gone for the longest time.”
“Or forever,” a little voice chimed in.
“We were so busy, the days flew by. Then when Pastor Solberg left and there were not so many critically sick to take care of, I had bits of time to think on our nursing program.”
“Lying around here, I’ve had plenty of time to think too. When I could stay awake, that is.”
“Has Mor been in to help you?”
“Yes, but people in Blessing have been wonderfully healthy this summer. No accidents, no babies being born, all the winter croup and coughs gone – you’d think our dream of a hospital was a waste of money, time, and effort.”
“Well, I saw many people die because they didn’t have any medical care. I cannot begin to describe how bad it was.”
“Pastor Solberg came by one afternoon and left me with nightmares. What if we had an epidemic of smallpox or something here?” She sighed and sipped her dripping glass of lemonade. “I know we vaccinate against smallpox now, but there will be other diseases.”
Astrid sipped her lemonade. This didn’t sound like the Elizabeth she knew. Had the trauma of losing another baby and nearly dying herself changed something in Elizabeth’s mind? It wouldn’t be surprising. Astrid realized she’d better keep an eye on things here at home and not be wandering off around the countryside in the near future.
“What do you think of our establishing a nursing school right now and not waiting for students to come from Chicago?”
“It looks to me like you went ahead and did just that.” Elizabeth’s smile belied any sting from her words. “I think it will be good for Deborah. And Kaaren and your mother will love doing this. If Mrs. Jeffers is serious about teaching English to the construction workers, two more students should be no problem.”
Astrid bit her lip. “I just thought of something. From what Thorliff said, the students will all be men. Will my two friends be able to sit in the same class? I’m not sure that Indian women are allowed to intermingle with men like that.”
Elizabeth stared back at her. “I think we need to be making a list of questions for Dr. Red Hawk and set up a time to telephone him.”
“Maybe there could be two classes. What if Mrs. Jeffers spent time out at the deaf school at the same time as Mor and Tante Kaaren taught nursing techniques?” Astrid cocked her head. “Where is she going to teach the immigrant laborers?”
“I think you and I need to go to the boardinghouse and talk with her. Maybe this is more than she wants to do.” Elizabeth glanced over to where Inga was sitting by the kitten basket, singing softly to them, trailing one finger over a furry body. “She so loves the kittens. She’s calling hers Emmy.”
“Emmy being taken away is so sad.”
“It’s been hard on both your mother and my daughter. The other children miss Emmy too.” She shook her head slowly. “But not like those two.”
“This continuous sadness isn’t like Mor.”
“I know Tante Kaaren is concerned. She said that years ago Ingeborg fell into the pit of despair, and it took a long time for her to be free of it.”
“Mor has often spoken of the pit
.
She says that only the Word of God can free one. I wonder if she has been lax in her Bible reading.”
Like I have? How does one put God and His Word first and still have
time for all the things that need to be done? Like caring for His so very
ill children?
“What is it?” Elizabeth asked, her voice soft in the still afternoon air.
Astrid released a sigh that sounded as heavy as the humid air they breathed. “I think I am beginning to understand my mother more. Down on the reservation I had no time to read God’s Word, or feed upon it, as the Scripture says. I learned the value of that at Bible school, and I thought I would always put Him first, but I failed. And the thought of that can be very destructive.”
“That is a harsh word.”
“Destructive?” She nodded. “True. But which is worse? The failing or the self flagellation? Are they equal sins? While I know that Jesus died to forgive my sins, I didn’t want to commit these particular ones again.”
Elizabeth smiled and nibbled on her lower lip. “We are so impossibly human. That’s the problem.”
“And confession is good for the soul?”
“True, but so is accepting forgiveness.”
Astrid leaned her head against the back of the chair. “How can it really be so simple?”
“Simple maybe, but not easy. I think you need to spend some time with your mor. The two of you can help each other.”
Astrid stared at Elizabeth. “When did you get to be so wise?”
“Nearly dying and spending all that time in bed, much of it contemplating, would change anyone, I imagine. Astrid, I am so grateful to be alive and growing stronger that I feel like shouting it to the world. God healed me. He let me live on this earth longer. Rejoice and be glad!”
The words fell with such intensity that Astrid sniffed back tears, blinking several times before sighing again. “Rejoice, indeed.” The two clasped hands across the narrow space between chairs.
“Are we going to Grandma’s now?”
“Soon, little one. Soon.” Astrid turned her attention to the little girl. “Do you need to change your pinafore?”
Inga looked down and scrubbed at a dirty spot, then looked at her mother, who nodded. “I guess. But if I go out in Grandma’s garden, I will just get more spots.”
“She’s right, you know.”
“I know. But one must try.”
Astrid stood. “I’m going upstairs to freshen up. I guess that bath will have to wait until later.”
“Or you can take a bath now, and we’ll wait until you are finished.”
“No. I want a long soak, and Inga will drive you nuts with waiting.”
“I will take her out now, and you can come with Thorliff when you are ready. And no arguing. I get enough of that from you know who.”
Astrid started to say something contrary, but the call of a bath grew siren loud. “Thank you, I will.”
Later, with the water cooling for the second time, Astrid stirred herself to let the water down the drain, then rinsed off. Her hair would never dry in time, but she toweled it vigorously and resolved to go brush it in the sunshine until it started to dry. Being clean again had been far more important than going home with dry hair. She dressed in clean clothes from the skin out and, brush in hand, headed to the back porch. The house was so still, she felt like tiptoeing, until she found Thelma ironing in the kitchen.
“Shame you can’t just go up and sleep on through the night,” the older woman said. “You looked done in.”
“But better now?”
“True. There’s cold juice in the icebox.”
“Thanks, but later.” The sun slanted under the porch roof, making one of the chairs the perfect place to sit, back to the sun, and finger-fluff her long hair. She should just comb it out and wrap it in a bun but instead sat listening to the hammering and sawing from the buildings going up. A slight breeze played with her hair as she tipped her head back.
“Sorry. I came looking for Thorliff.”
The male voice made her jerk upright. “Oh, Mr. Jeffers, I . . . I don’t know where he is. Did you look in his office?” Her fingers wanted to fix her hair. This was mortifying. The heat of her cheeks nearly burned her fingertips. She should have known better than to sit outside like this, her hair down and uncombed. Ladies did not do such things. What must he think of her?
“I did, and he’s not there.”
“I think I am supposed to ride with him out to the farm.”
Should
I ask him to sit down? What to do?
“Maybe he already left.”
“Thelma’s in the kitchen. I’ll go ask.” Astrid rose, trying to act as if she left her hair down all the time. “Be right back.”
When she returned, she had twisted her hair into a rope and tucked it into a bun. “Thelma said he is already gone but to tell you that he plans to be in the office early tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” He smiled at her and tipped his head slightly. “I liked it better down.” He turned and went down the steps, whistling a tune as he reached the street.
Astrid knew she should be indignant, but somehow all she could do was chuckle. She went upstairs, hung her towel up, and redid her hair into a snood before heading for the farm. The walk would do her good.
“Look who is here!”
“Grandma!” Inga darted across the room and threw her arms around her quickly kneeling grandmother. “Tante Astrid is taking a bath.” The way she said the last word made her opinion of bathing quite clear.
Ingeborg kissed the rosy cheek and got to her feet. “How are you, my dear?” She held out her arms for Elizabeth to join them. “I don’t see either of you enough.”
“I saw you yesterday.” Inga looked up at her mother, a slight frown between her eyes. “Wasn’t it?”
“Two days ago.”
“Oh. How come you didn’t come to my house this day, after the train?”
“I needed to welcome Grandpa home and help our guests feel comfortable at Tante Kaaren’s.” She gave Inga a slight shove. “Maybe you could find a couple of cookies in the pantry.”
“For just me or for us all?”
“Just you.”
Inga gave a happy little skip as she crossed to the pantry.
Ingeborg turned to Elizabeth. “I have missed her.”
“She has missed you. She said your eyes don’t laugh anymore.”
Ingeborg shook her head. “And here I tried to be the same as ever around her. How can one that young be not only so astute but also verbal enough to come up with that?” She blinked as if to remind herself where she was. “Please, sit down. Would you like coffee or something cold?”
“So she is right?” Elizabeth took the chair indicated. “You know, I think we would be more comfortable out on the porch. Unless there is something here that I can help you with.”
“No, supper is in the oven. The lettuce is all washed and the beans snapped, ready to cook. I made beet pickles. I know how Thorliff loves them.”
“Especially when made by his mor. What do you do that is different?”
“Some allspice and cloves – not much, just a hint.”
“I will tell Thelma that. So we can go outside?”
“Certainly. Inga, why don’t you put some on a plate for us as well?”
“Okay. One kind or two?”
“Some of each. With her everything must be precise. Sometimes I wonder how children get to be the way they are. And how they grow up.”
“What was Thorliff like as a little boy?”
Inga returned with a plate of cookies, one kind to each side as if a line were drawn down the middle. “Outside?”
Ingeborg fetched a chunk of ice from the icebox and chipped it into the glasses, then poured in water and a red syrup. “Leftover strawberries. I sugared them earlier.” Setting the glasses on a tray, she led the way to the back porch, where a late afternoon breeze had already risen.
“Thorliff worked so hard from the time his far died and hasn’t stopped. I never could have done all I did had he not taken care of the animals and Andrew. Although Kaaren did most of the inside work, I worked like a man. It was thanks to her that I finally climbed out of the pit of despair. Her prayers and her oh-so-gentle love. I have so much to be thankful for.”
“But now?”
“But now I have to throw this off, and through the grace of God my eyes will laugh again.” She leaned over and touched the tip of Inga’s nose with a gentle finger. “Thank you, little one, for the reminder. Grandma must not be sad any longer.”
“Tante Astrid is coming soon.”
“I know. And that alone makes me want to dance and sing.”
Inga rose from the footstool she had chosen to sit on. “I can dance and sing with you. Ma, you sing too.” She took Ingeborg’s hand. “Come dance.”
Ingeborg rose and took both of the little girl’s hands. Humming “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again,” the two spun around and tipped from side to side. They danced forward and back, and Elizabeth tapped the time with her foot and sang along.
“Bravo!” called a voice from the gate.
“Pa!” Inga dashed down the steps and around to the gate. “Did you bring Tante Astrid?”
“No. I thought she came with you.” Thorliff swung his daughter up in his arms and whirled her around again.
“She took a bath and said she would come with you.” Inga wrinkled her nose on the bath word.
Thorliff carried her up the steps and set her down.
“How did you come?”
“I walked, since you had the buggy.”
“So what happened to Astrid, then?” Elizabeth rose. “I’ll go call her and let her know we are all here.”
“I have a feeling she fell fast asleep after her bath.” Ingeborg smiled at Inga. “But not
in
the bathtub.” She pinched Inga’s pink cheek gently. “Grandpa will be up from the barn shortly. Or do you want to go see him there?”
