Huckleberry Summer (6 page)

Lily wasn’t particularly comfortable with children.

Of course, she loved their cherubic faces and their simple faith, but truth be told, children terrified her.

Children were the heritage of the Amish culture. The Plain people cherished little ones instead of seeing them as a burden. But Lily was the youngest in her family, and Estee was the only other child. Lily had no younger siblings and no nieces or nephews to practice on. She had befriended Treva Schrock, but Treva wasn’t a child. She was simply childlike. There was a huge difference.

The thought of caring for a child made Lily’s throat dry up and her heart race. She had no idea how to quiet a crying baby or change a diaper. And a job as a schoolteacher was definitely out. What if a scholar were to break his arm or choke on his lunch?

Today, she thought she might be sick with anxiety.

“I hope you don’t mind, Lily,” Anna said as she buttoned up her chocolate brown sweater. No matter how hot it was outside, Lily had never seen Anna go on an outing without a sweater—always one she had knitted herself and always a different color than the traditional black. “We might be gone all day.”

Lily glanced at the five young faces regarding her doubtfully. She hoped they didn’t recognize the panic in her eyes.

Anna’s daughter Ruth ruffled her oldest son’s hair. “Junior is almost eleven. He will be a gute help.”

Lily hoped Junior knew how to change diapers. The youngest little girl bouncing on Junior’s hip couldn’t have been much older than two.

“They’re running tests on Matthias today, and I didn’t want to sit alone in the hospital.”

Lily swallowed the lump in her throat. “Of course you want to be with your husband.”

Felty patted his bulging pocket. “I’ve got quarters for the vending machines. We’ll eat like kings while we’re there.” He propped his hands on his knees and bent to look at his grandchildren. “I’ll bring each of you a candy bar if you don’t give Lily no trouble today.”

The other boy, who looked to be about six or seven, nodded eagerly. “Can I have a Twix, Dawdi?”

Ruth patted the littlest girl’s cheek. “Keep an eye on Amanda. She is very busy and likes to wander off.”

Lily tried to catch her breath. “What . . . what do I feed them for lunch?”

“Oh, whatever you want to fix. Sandwiches are fine.”

“Can they eat peanuts?” Lily had heard of children dying from eating peanuts. And wheat. Should she ask about wheat?

Ruth gave Lily a reassuring smile. “They can eat most everything. But be sure to cut Amanda’s food into small pieces for her. We don’t want her to choke.”

Lily’s heart did a flip-flop. “How small of pieces? Do you want me to feed her one bite at a time? What should I do if she chokes?”

Ruth’s smile faded. “We’ll hurry back as soon as Matthias’s tests are over, won’t we, Mamm?”

“Not to worry,” Anna said. “Aden will be here.”

Aden. The boy who had a bear for a pet and who had practically ignored Lily for two weeks. They’d have to speak to each other if one of the children broke an arm and had to be taken to the hospital.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief. At least Aden would be here. He had younger siblings. She hoped he was as capable as he was handsome.

He walked in the door just as she thought about him.

Jah, very handsome.

“Aden!” Junior put little Amanda on her feet, and he and the other boy threw themselves into Aden’s outstretched arms.

Aden stumbled backward and flashed that nice smile that Lily hadn’t seen for days. “I almost didn’t recognize you,” Aden said. “How tall are you now, Uriah?”

The younger boy, Uriah, raised his hand to the top of his head. “About four feet.”

“Four feet? Oy anyhow.”

Aden’s dog bounded into the house and tackled Junior to the ground. Like Aden, Junior didn’t seem to have a problem with giant dogs knocking people over and licking their faces with that sticky, wet tongue. Uriah giggled with glee and nuzzled his face into the dog’s fur. Ruth’s three daughters broke ranks and gathered around the dog, petting him and cooing as if he were the most wonderful animal in the world.

The dog wagged his tail and smiled at all the attention.

Lily looked again. Dogs didn’t smile.

“Does he still eat socks?” Uriah asked while scratching the dog’s fur.

“He doesn’t eat them,” Aden said, pointing to a small pile of stockings near the sofa. “He collects them.”

Anna gave her daughter a decisive pat on the arm as if Aden’s presence solved everything. “He’ll be here to help Lily if she has questions, won’t you, Aden?”

Aden studied Lily’s face for a moment before wrapping his arm around Uriah’s neck and digging his knuckles into the top of Uriah’s head.

“Hey!” Uriah protested as he struggled to free himself from Aden’s grasp.

“The boys can help me work on a new chicken coop,” Aden said, as if it were the most exciting news all morning. Lily bit her bottom lip. Uriah looked so small. What if he smashed his thumb with the hammer?

Ruth’s oldest daughter pulled a ball of cheery yellow yarn from a small fabric bag she held. “I brought my knitting.”

“Gute,” Anna said. “You can show me your progress when I get back.” She and Ruth gave each of the children a kiss.

“The driver’s here,” Felty said, patting his pants pocket. “I’ve got my notebook in case we see any good license plates.”

Ruth smiled. “Oh, Dat. Are you still playing that license plate game?”

“Every year.” Felty beamed. “I found Alabama last week.” Felty took the bulging bag of hospital necessities from Anna. Anna had packed it with sandwiches, knitting supplies, baby booties, and a board game—because you never knew what you were going to need at the hospital, she had said.

Ruth gave Lily one last doubtful look as she shuffled out the door. Aden and the two boys followed close behind, leaving Lily alone and helpless with the three little girls. At least Aden had taken that dog with him. Lily would truly be beside herself if the dog ate one of the children.

The three girls, even the tiny one, stood like statues and stared at Lily until the littlest one began to cry. Lily didn’t blame her. She’d cry too if she had herself for a babysitter.

The oldest girl, probably eight, gathered the little one in her arms. “It’s okay, Amanda. Mamm will be home soon.”

“You’re pretty,” the middle girl said.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” Lily got on her knees to be at eye level with the children. “Tell me your names and how old you are.”

The eldest bounced the small one on her hip. “I am Rose, and I am nine years old. This is Amanda. She is two and a half, and be careful because when she has to go to the bathroom, you have to take her fast or she will have an accident.”

Lily didn’t let her smile fade. “Denki for the warning.”

“I’m Evie,” said the middle girl. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a bob, like the other two girls’, and she had long, dark eyelashes that accentuated her expressive blue eyes. “I am almost five. My birthday is in one month.”

“How nice,” Lily said. “I love birthdays.”

Amanda kept fussing, and Rose handed her to Lily. Rose must have thought Lily would have better luck calming her down.

If only she knew.

Lily stood and started bobbing up and down and humming the song about the railroad that Felty always sang. Amanda seemed unimpressed. Her fussy whining gave way to distressed tears that looked like they were about to turn into full-fledged screaming.

“You can give her some juice,” Rose said. “Sometimes she likes juice.”

Instead, Lily trilled her tongue and made a high-pitched noise. Amanda stopped crying out of sheer surprise. Then Lily made loud popping noises with her mouth that sounded like water dripping into a sink—a trick that Estee’s boyfriend Floyd had taught her. Amanda giggled. Lily made the noise again. Amanda placed her little hands on Lily’s cheeks and studied her mouth. The other girls watched her with undisguised curiosity. Apparently, Lily was fascinating.

Lily kept popping until Amanda forgot why she was crying. “Would you like a story?” she asked the toddler.

Amanda stuck her finger in her mouth and nodded. Lily took Amanda to the sofa. She seemed to remember seeing a box of picture books tucked between the sofa and the small end table. The other girls followed, and one sat on each side of her. Rose pulled out her knitting.

Lily reached into the box and found a book about a family of bears that lived in a tree house. She felt a little better. Telling stories was something Lily did well. She liked making all the different voices and giving excitement to the story by raising and lowering her voice.

“Five little bears lived in a tree . . .”

By the second book, Rose had abandoned her knitting and hooked her arm around Lily’s elbow as she listened to the story. Evie had managed to crawl onto Lily’s lap. Lily balanced Evie on one leg while Amanda sat on the other. The three little girls listened in rapt attention as Lily recounted the story of Little Red Riding Hood’s journey into the scary woods.

“Grandma, what big eyes you have.”

Aden came into the house.

Lily’s heart did a small hop, and not just out of concern for the children. “Are the boys okay?”

“Keep reading, Lily,” Evie said.

Aden stood just inside the door, glued into place as if he had come into the house for no other reason than to stand there. “Jah, of course. The boys are fine.”

Lily nodded as relief gave way to puzzlement. He was probably still out of sorts with her about what had happened between them two weeks ago. She really should apologize for hurting his feelings, but at the moment, three little girls surrounded her. “Anything else?”

“You looked a little concerned earlier. I wanted to make sure you were getting along all right.”

“Oh, thank you. I . . . I sometimes get anxious over nothing.”

“Don’t feel bad—it’s only normal when you aren’t used to children.”

“Lily, keep going,” Evie said in breathless anticipation.

Lily trained her eyes on the open book and started reading. Aden stayed put. “Grandma, what big teeth you have.”

His bad habit of staring at her made her feel embarrassed and giddy at the same time. Those green eyes shone with an unreadable expression and made her blush.

“The better to eat you with, my dear.”

Evie gasped as the wolf jumped from the bed and chased Little Red Riding Hood around the room, but as usual, the huntsman arrived just in time to kill the wolf with an ax.

“Read another one,” Rose said, as Lily closed the book.

Aden stood there as if he had nothing better to do. Lily, along with the three little girls, turned their eyes to him. He finally took the hint. “Okay, I will go now.”

“The girls and I will have dinner ready at noon,” Lily said, as if she already had a plan. Aden seemed like the type who would appreciate a capable girl, one who could adapt to the little upsets of life.

“That would be wonderful gute.”

As if it were painful to tear his gaze from her face, he backed away from her, found the doorknob by touch, and opened the door, all without averting his eyes. Then he turned stiffly and vanished out the door.

What an odd young man.

 

 

Why hadn’t anybody told Lily that children were this much fun?

It had been Rose’s idea to make cookies—snickerdoodles—a recipe Lily knew by heart. Lily had propped little Amanda on her hip while instructing Evie and Rose on how to mix the dough. At first, Lily had thought it might be too much trouble, but when she saw how much fun the girls had measuring and sifting and stirring, she knew it was worth the bother. Aden and the boys would be pleased.

She let Amanda sit on the counter, with Lily’s arms loosely around her, and plop dollops of dough onto the cookie sheet with the other girls. Nobody’s balls of dough were very round or of any uniform size, but the girls had made the cookies themselves and because of that, they were the best cookies money couldn’t buy.

Lily insisted on putting the cookies into the cookstove. She would never forgive herself if one of the girls burned her hand on the hot surface. Most of the Amish homes in Bonduel had gas powered stoves, which were much safer, but Anna and Felty hadn’t modernized their stove yet.

While the cookies baked, they set the table. Evie put a slice of cucumber on each plate and arranged thin carrot slices around each cucumber. They looked like cheery green suns with orange sunbeams.

Amanda, with Lily holding tightly to her hand, toddled carefully down the stairs to the cellar to fetch two bottles of chicken from the shelf. Rose mixed the chicken with mayonnaise and pickle juice, and they made seven and a half sandwiches—the half being for Amanda.

Aden and the boys appeared promptly at noon.

Uriah looked at the plates on the table. “Look at the suns, Aden.”

“I made those,” said Evie, beaming brightly.

“And we have a surprise for you,” Rose said.

“What is it?” Junior asked.

Rose covered her mouth and tittered. “You’ll see.”

Aden smiled in amusement and looked at the carefully arranged vegetables next to his sandwich. His expression drooped. “This looks delicious, girls. I can tell you worked very hard on a gute dinner for us.”

The boys washed up, and they all crammed around the table. Amanda sat on an upside-down pot as a booster seat next to Lily. Lily kept a hand on Amanda’s leg to make sure that Amanda would not topple over while she ate. That arrangement would make eating difficult for Lily.

Aden, still frowning, made a point to sit directly across from Lily—as far away from her as possible at Anna’s round table. Even though he had agreed to the distance, Aden’s avoidance pricked her heart. And instead of his distance being something they could both laugh about, Lily had seen to it that it was a sore spot between them.