Plain Christmas (Plain Fame Book 6) Page 14

  Accepting the cup of coffee from her sister, Amanda gave a little laugh and shook her head. “Nee, Anna, my kitchen does not smell like this.”

  Anna joined her at the table, sitting in one of the chairs across from her. She frowned, thinking about Amanda’s response. “So you still consider this your home, then?”

  The question surprised Amanda, and it took her a moment to respond. The word “home” had so many meanings. When she was younger, home was the kitchen where she used to stand next to her mother while she cooked their meals. During her growing-up years, her parents’ farm was the center of her universe, the boundaries of which were limited to the little one-room schoolhouse and wherever church was being held that week.

  Now, however, home did not have a physical border but an emotional one. Home was with Alejandro and her children, wherever their obligations took them.

  Still, as she sat there at the table with the coffee cup in her hands and her sister seated across from her, Amanda couldn’t help but feel at home, even if it no longer was her home.

  “We grew up here, Anna,” she said softly. No matter how she tried to explain it, she knew that her sister simply could not imagine a world that did not center around the very kitchen where they currently sat. She tried to be delicate with her words. “It will always be my childhood home. But I left here, and our lives are so . . .”

  When Amanda hesitated, Anna finished the sentence for her. “Different.”

  Nodding, Amanda raised the cup to her lips. “It’s hard to explain. The change was so gradual. And not having been home for so long . . .” She looked around the kitchen, noticing that Anna had made an attempt to tidy it. “It seems so comfortable and familiar, almost like I’m dreaming, yet I know I have to return to reality.”

  Anna made a little noise as if agreeing as she, too, sipped her coffee.

  Hoping to change the subject, Amanda glanced at the clock. It was just after six o’clock. Surely Hannah and Rachel would arise soon and help with last-minute chores in the barn. After all, without an older brother to assist with the morning chores, the responsibility to help Jonas would fall on either their shoulders or Anna’s.

  “Let me help you finish cooking,” Amanda said. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve cooked a good, hearty Amish breakfast!”

  Anna raised an eyebrow. If she wanted to comment on Amanda’s statement, she didn’t. But the expression on her face told Amanda exactly what her sister thought.

  “I . . . I mean we sit for breakfast,” Amanda tried to explain as she stood up and headed to the counter. “As a family, I mean. Well, when Alejandro isn’t there, it’s just me and the kinner.” The mere fact that she felt as if she needed to explain the morning routine in her house just added to her guilt. “It’s just that . . .”

  Graciously, Anna raised her hand and said, “Nee, Amanda. There’s no need to explain. It’s a different life.”

  Amanda exhaled, grateful that Anna seemed to understand that much.

  “But,” Anna said as she stood to join her sister at the counter, “I sure do wonder how you managed to adapt from our simple Amish life to Alejandro’s more complicated world.” Abruptly, she paused for a moment, her hand moving to the right side of her stomach. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and then she smiled. “Baby must be awake.”

  “Kicking?”

  Anna thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Turning, I reckon.”

  “Speaking of the baby, Samuel is the most peaceful child!” Amanda said as she began cracking eggs into a large plastic bowl. Two dozen eggs would make enough scrambled eggs for the people who would sit around the breakfast table, but only because Anna was also making pancakes, scrapple, hash browns, and two loaves of sliced bread.

  “Oh, that he is!” Anna’s delight with Amanda’s compliment shone on her face. “How blessed we are to have that child.”

  With a quick flicking of her wrist, Amanda whisked the eggs. “I can’t believe he hasn’t woken yet! In fact, I don’t think I’ve heard him cry since we arrived.”

  When Anna didn’t respond, Amanda glanced at her. She had stopped slicing the fresh bread and was staring at the wall. The joy had disappeared from her face, and Amanda realized that Anna was deep in thought. Setting down the fork, Amanda wiped her hand on a towel and faced her.

  “Anna?”

  “He’s our only boy,” Anna said, her voice low and her words slow.

  “And he’s a perfect little boy.”

  The corners of Anna’s mouth lifted into a smile, one that told Amanda there was more to the story than that. “Nee, Amanda, we won’t be having any more kinner after this one,” she said, gently rubbing her stomach. “And I already know it’s a girl.”

  Amanda caught her breath. “Oh.” It was all she could say. How on earth had Anna learned that she was having a daughter? While more of the younger Amish women were using Englische doctors and taking a more active role in the prenatal care of their babies, they rarely found out the sex of the baby. Even Amanda had not wanted to know, although Alejandro had tried to coerce the doctor into telling him.

  With a light laugh, Anna refocused her eyes on the bread between her hands, carefully slicing the loaf with the sharp knife. “After Samuel was born, the doctor didn’t want me having more bopplis,” she said. “Something about my uterus being weak.” She laughed again. “And it’s not as if you can exercise that, now, can you?”

  It was one thing to decide, as a couple, to not have more children. But Amanda knew that it was quite another to be told by a doctor that they couldn’t have more children. Her heart broke for her sister, who apparently had wanted an even larger family.

  “The doctor has been closely monitoring this little one,” Anna said, pausing again to run her hand over her stomach. “That’s how I know she’s a girl.”

  “Whether you have one son or a hundred,” Amanda replied, “each one is special, Anna. And God saw fit to send you Samuel.”

  “He did, that is true.” Anna’s eyes misted over, and she smiled in a wistful way. “As I always say, Samuel is our gift from God. He knew that such a special little boy needed a family to love and support him.”

  “Well, of course they would! Any family would!”

  This time, Anna laughed, her eyes crinkling into half-moons that sparkled. “Oh, Amanda! You didn’t notice, then?”

  “Notice?” Amanda put her hand on her hip as she faced her sister. “Notice what, Anna? You’re talking in riddles, schwester. What on earth was I supposed to notice?”

  “Oh, Amanda!” she said, still smiling. “Surely you realize that Samuel’s ferhoodled?”

  Amanda’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She stared at her sister, trying to digest what she had said. Ferhoodled? She hadn’t heard that term in years. Even then, it usually meant someone who was confused because they were in love. But that certainly wasn’t what Anna meant. “Surely you don’t mean . . .” Amanda couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  Anna waved her hand at Amanda. “Now don’t you get all flustered on me,” she said in a light tone. “It only makes him more special to us. He might develop slower than the other little ones, and mayhaps he needs more care, but that just means we just can shower him with more love.” She returned her attention to the food. “And the girls just love him so. Why, you saw Hannah and Rachel bickering over who was going to hold him last night after supper!” A noise outside the window caused her to look out. “Oh help! The men are coming in already! Reckon with Alejandro helping him, Jonas finished extra quick.”

  Still stunned by Anna’s revelation about Samuel as well as by her upbeat attitude, Amanda stood still, with her fork in midair over the unbeaten eggs in the bowl. She only started to beat the egg mixture as Alejandro strode into the room and paused to kiss her cheek.

  “What a morning!” He accepted the cup of coffee Anna offered to him. “Ay, Princesa! There’s nothing like crisp air in the morning to open a man’s lungs and hard work to
open his mind!” He winked at her, his eyes bright and full of life.

  Good-naturedly, Jonas clapped him on the shoulder. “I forgot what a right gut worker you are, Alejandro! Why, if I could get through those cows this quick every day, I could double the herd!”

  “Mayhaps there’s a farmer in you yet,” Anna teased Alejandro.

  “Man could get used to this,” Alejandro said, more to himself than to anyone else. But Amanda heard him and felt almost as stunned by that statement as by Anna’s disclosure about Samuel.

  “You wouldn’t miss the limelight and travel, then?” Jonas asked.

  Amanda gave a soft laugh. “Of course he would!”

  He sat down at the table and leaned back in the chair. He stretched his legs out before him and took a sip of the coffee. “Ay, Princesa! After all these years, you should know that I still have some surprises up my sleeve yet.”

  His playful mood warmed her heart. It had been far too long since he’d appeared so relaxed and happy. “Oh really? Surprises?”

  “You like surprises, no?”

  “After all these years,” she teased back at him, “you should know that I am, in fact, not particularly fond of surprises at all.”

  He laughed and reached out for her to take his hand. When she did, he pulled her toward him and kissed her palm. “Te amo, mi amor,” he whispered and she felt her cheeks glow under his tender sentiment, even though she felt uncomfortable with his display of affection in front of Anna and Jonas.

  The clock on the wall clicked and began to chime.

  “Six thirty already, then?” Anna gasped and wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh, I was so thankful when the clocks turned back in November. I much prefer church service when it’s slow time and we have that extra hour!” She grimaced. “Fast time is just dreadful, trying to get everyone ready an hour early!”

  It was the closest thing to a complaint Amanda had heard from her sister.

  Many Amish communities did not recognize daylight savings time and did not move their clocks forward. At least not officially. During daylight savings time, a period they called fast time, farmers arose at the same time as slow time, but it was an hour earlier than the actual clocks. Many bishops adopted the same schedule for church, which meant the worship service started at nine o’clock during the winter season.

  “Best go get those little ones up and dressed, ja?” Anna said, directing the question to Amanda. “We need to make sure they eat. Empty bellies make for fidgety kinner during service.”

  The night before, when Alejandro and Amanda had retired to their bedroom, she had expressed her concern about the children attending church service, especially Nicolas. Almost three hours long and conducted in High German and Pennsylvania Dutch, an Amish worship service was not something most non-Amish people enjoyed. But Alejandro had insisted that they attend, refusing to give even his mother an excuse to stay at the farm.

  “He’s far too rambunctious,” he had said as he pulled Amanda into his arms, his head resting on the pillow with hers tucked under his chin. “Might do him some good to attend an Amish worship.”

  She had forgotten how much Alejandro enjoyed the worship services, even though he didn’t understand the hymns or the sermons. The few times he had accompanied her, she’d been amazed at how the rest of the men seemed to enjoy his company during the fellowship afterward. The question of whether Alecia would enjoy it as much as her son, however, remained to be seen.

  As Amanda oversaw her three children getting dressed, listening to them complain about having to go to church, she knew that she would have her hands full keeping them from fussing during the three-hour service. Amanda hoped that she wouldn’t need to placate Alecia, too. She wanted to enjoy herself. Ever since Anna had told her that they were attending church, Amanda had realized how much she had missed attending worship services. She was even looking forward to seeing the bishop, one of the main people in the community, with whom Amanda had not always seen eye-to-eye.

  By seven o’clock, Amanda had managed to herd Sofia and Nicolas downstairs to join their cousins at the kitchen table. They were still seated there, finishing their breakfast, when Alecia emerged from the door that led to Lizzie’s house.

  “There are mis preciosos!” Alecia called out in a singsong way, far louder than necessary. “Qué linda, Sofia! Such a beautiful dress! I knew it would fit you just right!” She sounded delighted. “Come to Abuela. Let me see you up close.”

  Amanda paused, wondering for whose benefit Alecia intended her overly dramatic praise: Sofia or Lizzie? Either way, Amanda knew that she was clearly trying to establish her grandmotherly advantage over Lizzie.

  With a sigh, Amanda turned to look at her mother-in-law, who by this time had reached Sofia’s side and was twirling her so that her dress spun. And that’s when Amanda noticed what Alecia was wearing.

  Accustomed to the services she attended back home, Alecia had dressed in her finest wool suit, her hair perfectly coifed and makeup done to excess. She was adorned with a gold cross necklace, several dangling bracelets, and numerous rings on both hands. After all, Alecia would never attend Mass in anything less than her best church attire. To her, it was a sign of respect, as well as proof of her elevated status in her community back home. To Amanda, it was garish and ostentatious.

  From the horrified look on her mother’s face, Lizzie thought so, too.

  “Ay, Amanda!” Alecia cried out, clearly impervious to their reactions. “Such a plain dress! And black? You look like you’re attending a funeral, hija!” She gave a little laugh, as if that would soften her criticism. “Don’t you agree with . . . ,” she started to say as she turned toward Lizzie. She stopped midsentence when she saw that Amanda’s mother was also dressed in a plain black dress. “Oh.”

  Lizzie pressed her lips together. If Amanda didn’t know her mother better, she would say she looked like she was going to roll her eyes. But her mother would never do such a thing. Instead, she said nothing, letting her silence speak loud and clear of her disapproval.

  The master bedroom door opened, and Anna walked into the kitchen, a smile on her face as she smoothed the black apron that covered her black dress. She carried Samuel against her hip. Stopping in the center of the kitchen, Anna smiled as she looked at Amanda. “Everyone ready?” When she started to the door, she caught sight of Alecia and hesitated for the briefest of seconds before continuing.

  Oblivious, Alecia followed her to the door.

  “Where is the car to take us to the Mass?” Alecia asked innocently as Alejandro walked around the side of the barn and joined them.

  “Ay, Mami, I keep telling you it’s not called Mass,” Alejandro corrected her once again.

  Alecia waved her hand at him dismissively. “I’m sure it’s the same, no matter what you call it, Alejandro.”

  Amanda bit her lower lip, trying to hide her amusement at Alejandro’s expression.

  “Now, where’s the car?” Alecia looked around, and when she noticed that Alejandro had not been warming up the SUV, she turned to question him, a scowl on her face. “You didn’t warm it up?”

  “We’re not going in the car,” he responded in a flat voice.

  “So how will we get there?” she asked impatiently.

  “Your chariot, Mami,” Alejandro exclaimed, extending his hand with a grand flourish toward the horse and buggy that Jonas drove toward them. The horse’s breath came out of its nostrils as little white puffs of condensation. When Jonas stopped it near where they stood, the horse snorted and jerked its head upward.

  “This . . . this is how we are going to church?” Alecia stuttered as she took a step backward and stared in disbelief at the gray-top buggy and chestnut-brown horse. “I . . . I don’t . . .” She looked at Alejandro, her eyes open wide. “Is it safe?” she whispered.

  “¡Claro! Just be quick when you climb in, sí?”

  Amanda could predict how this would end if she didn’t intervene. “Alejandro,” she said in a soft voice. “With
so many of us . . .” She glanced toward the SUV and then back to him.

  He winked at her and laughed as he took his mother’s arm. “Come, Mami, I’m teasing you. Jonas will take the children, and I’ll drive the rest of us.” He guided Alecia toward the car, still chuckling as she swiped at his arm.

  Amanda smiled to herself, watching as he helped his mother into the car before returning for Anna. He reached out and took Samuel from her, making a silly noise that made the little boy laugh. Isadora carried a box of the canned beef, walking beside Lizzie while Nicolas raced his sister and cousins toward the buggy.

  By eight thirty, they had arrived at the Millers’ farm. Amanda slowly opened the car door and got out. She stared at the line of gray-top buggies and the people who were walking toward the farmhouse. For a moment, she felt a sense of dread.

  It had been years since she had attended a worship service with most of these people. As she stood on the edge of the driveway, Nicolas clinging to her side, Amanda felt nervous about walking into the house.

  “Kum now, Amanda,” Lizzie said in a soft voice. “No fretting.”

  Amanda turned toward her mother.

  Lizzie gave her a reassuring look. “Take one of these boxes, ja? It will get your mind focused on something else.”

  Isadora walked ahead, holding Elizabeth, with Sylvia clinging to her side. The few words that Isadora remembered in Pennsylvania Dutch from her previous stays at the farm had endeared her to the smallest cousins. They had insisted on riding in the car with Isadora instead of in the buggy with the other children. Meanwhile, Sofia was running with Hannah and Rachel and a small group of children. Amanda hoped her daughter hadn’t splattered any mud on her dress.

  With the exception of Nicolas, the cousins had all found a happy balance.

  “Here, sweetheart,” Amanda said as she took one of the boxes from the back of their rental car. “Could you carry one? They aren’t heavy at all.”