An Amish Christmas (23 page)

“Oh, but it is important,” Meg cried. “There’s Amanda, and the wedding and the damage to the buggy—how can you ever forgive us?”

Catherine stopped what she was doing and turned to look directly at Meg. “It is already forgiven. We believe in this very, very strongly. If we ourselves are to be forgiven, how could we not forgive someone else?”

Meg felt tears fill her eyes. “You’re an amazing person,” she said.

“No,” Catherine said, “no more amazing than anyone else. I just follow what I believe, and it always leads me down the right path.”

Meg felt an enormous weight being lifted from her shoulders. She resisted the impulse to hug Catherine.

Back at the Lutz house, Meg told James about the conversation. He shook his head. “These people are something else, aren’t they?” he agreed. “Will came out to the barn to help repair the rig, and they were as nice to him as if he’d just stopped by to give them a hand instead of being the one who’d broken
the darn thing. Frankly, I think their kindness has made him feel worse.”

“I guess, in a weird way, it would probably be easier for the kids to deal with everyone being angry at them,” Meg said thoughtfully. “They could shrug it off. They could whine about how they hadn’t
meant
for anything to happen. You know”—in an exaggerated tone, she mimicked their indignant protests—“ ‘It was an
ac
cident. I’m
sorry
, okay?’ ”

James smiled at her impression.

“But no one’s even asking for an apology,” she went on, “so their usual ways of dealing with being in trouble won’t work.”

“Fiendishly clever,” James said with a laugh. “The worst punishment of all.”

“But it’s not like the Lutzes even want to punish them,” Meg protested.

“Among their own people, it’s a whole different thing. But for our kids, it’s like they’re being killed with kindness.”

“Well,” said Meg, crossing her arms, “we certainly let them get out of control. I feel pretty responsible.”

“Hey, I agree they’ve been pretty bratty here. But it’s not so shocking that they would act up, given what they’re going through.”

“Does that justify what they pulled yesterday?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. But let’s watch what happens now that they’re dealing with some real consequences for their behavior.”

They watched what happened almost in disbelief. For the rest of the day, Lizzie was either doing Amanda’s regular chores
or sitting beside the younger girl, talking to her, fetching whatever she needed. Will was also busy all day, attempting to help on the rig repairs, then assisting the men who had come to dismantle the extension to the barn. The materials were going straight to the home where the next wedding was to be held.

Meg suspected the children’s goodwill might wear off by the next day, but on Thursday there was more of the same. Both children served, cleared, and cleaned up after breakfast without a word. Lizzie helped Amanda get to the table and waited on her, making conversation as if they were old friends. Will divided his attention equally among Eli, Aaron, and Sam, a shock in itself to his younger brother. Sam had heard the whole story, but he instinctively understood that it was not a subject he should bring up, much less tease his older siblings about. He acted as if it were nothing new for his brother and sister to be solicitous of him, an extremely wise move on his part, Meg thought.

Neither Lizzie nor Will showed the slightest sign that they were anything but sincere. Even better for them, no one in the Lutz households appeared to notice—or, in their usual kind way, chose not to notice—that anything was different. Meg and James were careful to follow their lead. They refrained from making any comment that might make Lizzie and Will retreat into a defensive posture.

To Meg, it was as if some invisible wall around her children had been knocked down, allowing them to drop their air of superiority and get on with the business of being themselves. Or rather, she corrected herself, their best selves. In fact, she realized, they weren’t even arguing with each other anymore.

At one point, she passed the open door to Benjamin’s bedroom and stopped to stare in amazement. Even though Benjamin was a little better than Will at cleaning up, there hadn’t been much change in the condition of the room. Today Meg saw that, for the first time, Will had made his bed as if he were an army recruit, neat and tight. Everything on his side of the room had been put away, every surface was clean. When she went to look into Amanda’s bedroom, she found more of the same, but the entire room had been gone over thoroughly. This could only have been done by Lizzie that morning, given Amanda’s condition.

Every time Meg saw her daughter that day and the next, she was either working or attending to Amanda. At one point, Meg found the two girls relaxing on their beds, each with a book in her hand. She stuck her head in the room to ask if they wanted anything. Lizzie looked up over the top of her book to say thanks, they were fine. It was then that Meg saw that her daughter was three quarters of the way through
Tom Sawyer
. Meg had to turn away in a hurry so Lizzie wouldn’t catch the smile on her face.

It was more of the same with Will: If he wasn’t hard at work with his father or David, he was outside with Eli and his friends, walking through the snow-covered fields or running off to skate or play ice hockey.

Both her children initially steered clear of Jonathan, whose buggy they had wrecked, but quickly they saw that even he bore them no ill will.

When Meg decided it was time to take Nina up on her offer to buy some brownies, Lizzie was right there to help get them
ready. Meg decided to bake a few different kinds of cookies along with the oatmeal-cranberry ones. She and Lizzie debated the merits of chocolate versus fruit fillings, and peanut butter flavoring versus coconut. Meg struggled to remember recipes she had made years and years before. They measured and mixed for hours, then watched over their creations, teasing each other about how often the other one wanted to open the oven doors to check. When the cookies came out golden brown, they celebrated with war whoops. As far as Meg was concerned, if that had been the end of the entire endeavor, it would have been well worth it just to have spent that afternoon laughing with her daughter again.

As it turned out, Nina picked up the food in person. She had wanted to stop by and see how Amanda’s leg was faring. While she was there, she sampled one of everything and pronounced it all wonderful. Before she left, she requested a second, larger batch for the following week.

Catherine was delighted for Meg. “Now you will have your own business,” she teased Meg as they cleared the table. “I will tell everyone that the master cookie baker got started here.”

Meg laughed, but she was uncomfortable. Catherine had spoken the thought Meg herself had been too afraid even to voice. Day after day, watching these women turn out the endless pies, cakes, and breads, Meg saw that baking for a business was backbreaking work. Yet it could be done. The business required loving care and constant tending, but it was possible to maintain a small-scale operation. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it had occurred to her that perhaps she could do something
like it on her own. But it was a thought she had refused to let herself develop.

Now, as Catherine voiced the idea, Meg’s spirit lifted hearing her words. But almost as quickly she came up against the same obstacle that was in the way of everything else: She wouldn’t be going back to her own home. She was going to be a guest in her parents’ home, and they would never support such an endeavor.

Without support, both financial and personal, it would be unmanageable. Her parents didn’t have the equipment, and they would never invest in any—that Meg knew without having to ask. What they
would
have was an endless list of reasons why the idea was doomed to fail. Now that she thought about it, she wondered what kind of customers she could come up with in a town like theirs, where specialized baked goods were not exactly in high demand.

No, she quickly realized, it was a pointless idea. She had no kitchen equipment, no money to pay for the initial supplies, no customers beyond Nina, and no prospects for any others.

She would have to figure out something else.

The buggy approached the house, David Lutz and James barely visible inside. It was late afternoon, and they were returning from a trip to buy some farming supplies. In addition, they had checked on the progress of the Hobarts’ car. Meg and Catherine sat on rocking chairs on the front porch, bundled up against the cold, enjoying a few minutes of quiet conversation before heading inside to start preparing supper.

The horse came to a stop just outside the barn. The men jumped out on opposite sides of the rig and hurried over to the two women.

“Wait until you hear this,” James said.

Meg and Catherine looked up at him expectantly.

“The car will be ready in the morning.”

David nodded in agreement. “Ready for the road and like new, the man said. You can pick it up tomorrow.”

Meg sat up straight. “No! Are you serious?” She was so startled
by the news, she realized she had actually stopped thinking this day would ever really come. Feeling her stomach drop, she also realized that she had come to hope it never would. Which made no sense. It’s not as if we can stay with these people forever, she reprimanded herself. Sooner or later, we have to go back to reality—our reality, at least.

“They did a fantastic job, I saw that much,” James went on. “It really does look like new.”

Meg could only nod. The thought of the five of them piling back into that car and heading for the highway made her want to shudder.

James was watching her obvious distress. “We should get to your parents’ house before Christmas Eve,” he said, his tone hopeful.

It was a weak attempt to sound encouraging. They both knew the truth. Spending Christmas there was not an inducement to get going but, rather, something they would both prefer to avoid.

Catherine listened as she rocked in her chair. Meg glanced up in time to see Catherine lock eyes with her husband as something unspoken passed between them. David nodded almost imperceptibly.

“It is a very busy time on the roads now, right before Christmas,” Catherine said as if she were mulling over travel conditions. “That is not so good.” She paused. “Would you maybe stay with us a little longer? Then the roads will be safer.”

“Wow. That’s a wonderful offer,” said James. “But we can’t put you out any more than we already have. The roads will be okay. Remember, we’ll be in a car.”

“We all know your car is not safe,” David said. “It tried to kill me.”

“And it would be nice for all the children to have Christmas Day together,” Catherine went on, as if no one had spoken. “I believe they would enjoy that, yes?”

Meg knew she should protest, say they had already stayed too long as it was. Yet those were not the words that came out of her mouth. “The children would enjoy it, and we would enjoy it, too.” She looked at James. “I would like to stay. Wouldn’t you?”

James smiled. “Of course I would.” He turned to David. “If you’re sure about this …”

“Yes, we are sure,” David replied.

Catherine stood. “That is settled. Come, Meg, we will get some peaches from the basement for supper, and some beets.”

Meg got up. She loved Catherine and David even more for the way they had handled the invitation. They were far too thoughtful to come out and flatly offer to rescue the Hobart family from what promised to be a dreary holiday. And Meg was touched beyond words that they wanted her family to share this holiday with theirs.

“James, you and I have to go see the chickens,” David said, turning toward the coop. “Aaron tells me we have some wire to fix.”

A little later, when Sam asked Meg permission to go to the store with Old Samuel and Leah, she saw an opportunity. She handed Sam some money and gave him instructions, then swore him to secrecy. Proud of the trust she was putting in him,
and a little anxious about the responsibility, he told her she could count on him and went off to carry out his assignment.

After supper that night, the house was buzzing with activity. Lamplight cast a glow throughout the main room. The littlest Lutz children from next door and friends of varying ages made ornaments, simple stars and words that celebrated the religious meaning of the holiday. These, along with some pieces of greenery and pinecones, were the only decorations to be hung up.

Leah and Catherine sat at the table putting the final touches on the quilt that would be a holiday gift for Sarah, the schoolteacher. In the kitchen, Lizzie and eight-year-old Rachel made chocolate-dipped pretzels under the direction of Amanda, who sat nearby with her leg propped up on a chair. The enticing smell of melted chocolate permeated the air. Will and Sam played Monopoly with Eli and Aaron. Sam held Rufus the entire time, scratching the contented dog behind the ears. Annie dropped by to pick up all the youngest children and was delayed when her presence drew David and Old Samuel into the main room. Somehow, the greetings of the adults evolved into a session of storytelling for the children.