An Amish Christmas Quilt (20 page)

He ran his fingers through his curly hair. “I'm not upset about your party. I'm irritated that you tried to meddle in my life. You might be pretty to look at, but you are a fussy busybody.”

In vain, Dottie tried to pretend Gid hadn't just called her pretty. What did he mean by saying such a thing to his cousin's cousin when he hadn't seen her in two years? He was angry with her, for goodness sake. She willed herself to calm down before her cheeks burst into flame. They felt hot enough. “I am not a busybody. You should appreciate that I wanted to spare your feelings.”

His grin drooped a little at the corners. “I'm perfectly capable of governing my own feelings. And making my own choices, thank you.”

Dottie slumped her shoulders. “I just . . . I didn't know, and I couldn't have been sure you wouldn't be offended.”

“I am offended.” A grin tempered his rebuke. “No harm done as long as you promise not to poke your cute nose where you shouldn't.”

He thought she had a cute nose? Dottie gave a little cough and remembered why she was standing in the entry arguing with Gid Stutzman. “My
mamm
got sick last Christmas.”

“
Jah
, I'm sorry,” he said with sincere compassion.

“Well, she's feeling better all the time. I wanted this Christmas to be perfect since Mamm and the
kinner
missed out on one last year.”

“And your Christmas will only be perfect if I don't come to your party?” His lips twitched playfully, and he pretended to think about it. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

Dottie grabbed the offensive letter from his hand and swatted him lightly on the shoulder with it.

He stepped back and raised his hands to parry another attack. “Hey, no violence.”

“Ada and I planned the party before she knew you were coming. We had already invited certain people because they are close to my
mamm
. And it has to be an even number because games are only fun with an even number playing.”

He grabbed Ada's letter back and waved it in front of her face. “I suspect that's not the only reason you don't want me at your party.”

She felt as if he'd backed her into a corner with that gaze of his. “Okay,” she said, as her throat dried out like an old piece of toast. She'd already insulted him. Might as well be perfectly honest about her feelings. “If you must know, you're annoying and immature. I was afraid you'd ruin my party.”

The playful quirk of his lips was not the reaction she expected. “You think
I'm
annoying, and yet you're letting Junior in.”

“He lives here.”

“This is about those pies, isn't it?”

Dottie bit her bottom lip. Several Christmases ago, Gid, showing off as usual, had picked up two of Dottie's Christmas pies and tried to balance them on his index fingers. The pies had ended up on the floor, Dottie had ended up in tears, and Gid had ended up mopping floors on Christmas morning. “Those were the first pies I ever made,” she said.

“Dottie, that was six years ago. I was a
deerich
sixteen-year-old.”

She lifted her chin, frustrated that she felt the need to defend herself to Gid Stutzman. “And I was a tender fourteen-year-old.”

He held out his hands in surrender as a doubtful yet cocky grin spread across his face. “I'm really sorry.”

“You enjoyed embarrassing me.”

“I used to be a teenage boy, Dottie. I liked to tease every girl who came within ten feet. Can you show me a little mercy for that?”

“I suppose,” Dottie said, folding her arms across her waist. She cleared her throat. “But I still don't want you at my party.”

He huffed out a breath, seemingly unimpressed. “Why didn't you explain all this in your letter? I am a reasonable person. No need to try to trick me into things.” Gid reached for his extra large suitcase sitting on the porch. “I'm really fun in a crowd.”

“This party is really important to me.”

He smiled mischievously, as if he had no intention of letting her meddle with his choices.

She let out a dejected sigh. If Gid wanted to come to the party, he was going to come, no matter what she said. She couldn't very well grab his arm and force him out of the house. He was arrogant enough to believe that his mere presence would make the party fun. Her heart sank. “What does it matter? The napkins are ruined anyway,” she said. So were her dreams of the best Christmas party her
mamm
had ever had.

Aunt Elsie appeared in the entryway and spread her arms wide for a hug. “Gideon! We didn't expect you until tomorrow. What a nice surprise.”

Gid crumpled Ada's letter into a tight ball, stuffed it into his coat pocket, and hugged his aunt. “I got the last seat in the van,” he said.

“
Cum reu
. Come in and shut the door. You're letting all the cold air in.” She patted his wide shoulders then pinched his upper arm. “Look at you. More like your
dat
all the time. And what have you been doing to work yourself into all those muscles?”

“Nothing really. I cut and heft logs all day.”

“That'll do it.” Elsie put her arm around Dottie. “You remember my nephew on the other side, don't you?”

“
Jah
,” Dottie murmured, wishing she'd never laid eyes on him.

Aunt Elsie clapped her hands. “Well, this is a wonderful-
gute
happening. Now Gid can come to our party.” She smiled at Gid. “Dottie's been planning it for weeks.”

Gid shook his head. “I wasn't invited.”

Elsie put her arm around him and looked at Dottie, not guessing how unwelcome Gid was to her. “You don't mind, do you, Dottie?”

Dottie shrugged. She feared she'd burst into tears if she spoke. Aunt Elsie beamed. “You always make gatherings so fun, Gid. We couldn't have a party without you.”

Gid glanced at Dottie with a hint of a tease shining in his eyes. “I think I'm going to have to miss the party tonight.”

Dottie's hopes fluttered back to life. Was he really giving up on the party or just poking fun at her? She held her breath and kept a straight face.

“I hurt my big toe ice fishing yesterday, and I can barely stand.”

“Stuff and nonsense, Gid,” Aunt Elsie said, brushing away such a ridiculous notion. “You can sit the whole time. We've plenty of chairs.”

How did someone hurt his toe ice fishing?

“
Nae
, but
denki
anyway. I think I'll soak my toe and then hit the hay early.”

“Of course you won't,” said Aunt Elsie. “Dottie, help me talk him into it.”

Gid held up his hand, laughter alight in his blue eyes. “No use, Aunt Elsie. I'm not coming.” He turned his face away from Aunt Elsie and winked at Dottie. She thought she might melt like a snowman in May. Or probably more like a snowman in July. She took back every unkind feeling she'd harbored for Gid Stutzman.

“All right, Gid. If you don't feel up to it,” Aunt Elsie said. “
Cum
. I'll show you where you're sleeping.”

As Elsie led him away, he craned his neck to glance at Dottie. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he said, a charming smile stealing across his face.

She involuntarily grinned back and stifled a giggle as he adopted an exaggerated limp. Had he fibbed to his aunt?

Now she kind of wished he were coming to the party. He might be irritatingly cocky, but he had a reputation for being extra fun at a gathering.

If only she could uninvite Junior.

C
HAPTER
4

The grandfather clock in the front room chimed six o'clock just as Dottie poured ice into the punch bowl. Her little dust-up with Gid Stutzman had cost her fifteen minutes, and after mixing the punch and helping Ada with the hot wassail and warm cocoa, she'd run out of time to fix the napkins. She hoped Mamm wouldn't notice.

The front door opened, and Mamm and Dat ambled into the house. Mamm wore her customary black coat with a fire-engine-red scarf and her black bonnet. Dat looked equally festive with a forest green scarf and a nose bright red from the cold.

Mamm smiled. She still had a gray cast to her face and walked with a cane, but the doctors said that the cancer was gone. Dottie was overjoyed that she was walking again.

“Here is my long-lost daughter,” Mamm said. “You left before I awoke this morning. I didn't even get to say good morning.”

Dottie motioned to the eats table spread with all the desserts she had made today. All things considered, it had turned out nearly perfect. “What do you think?”

“Wonderful-
gute
,” Mamm said. “Look at the cream puffs. They must have taken you hours.”

Dottie's heart swelled. She'd known Mamm would like the cream puffs. “Worth all the trouble for that look on your face.”

Mamm gave Dottie a firm hug. “I'm just eager to spend time with you tonight.”

“Me too. It's going to be
gute
fun.”

Dottie frowned as she glanced at the place where the napkins were supposed to go. Junior hadn't even had the sense to bring them in from the kitchen. Probably a
gute
thing. They'd only mess up the beauty of her table. If she could manage a perfect party without napkins, she would leave the ugly things in the kitchen.

But cream puffs were too messy to do without napkins.

Ada marched into the front room with the napkin basket in her hand. Thank goodness for Ada. At least one of her cousins paid attention to the important things. “Aunt Saloma,” she said, revealing the deep dimple on her cheek. “It is so
gute
to see you. How are you feeling?”

Mamm patted Ada's cheek. “Happy to be getting out after being cooped up so long. Oh, look at those darling napkins. Dottie, you thought of everything.”

Darling napkins? Not by any stretch of the imagination. Dottie looked down. In the basket sat a stack of perfectly pleated bowtie napkins secured with red ribbons. She looked at her cousin and beamed. “Ada, thank you.”

“Don't thank me,” Ada said. “Gid dragged Junior up to his room, and they folded together, although Gid did most of the folding and Junior did all the complaining.”

Dottie opened her mouth and closed it again. Gid Stutzman, the boy who hadn't been invited to her party and was too cocky for his own good, had folded her napkins? The guilt wrapped itself around her chest, and she felt her face get warm. Was it too late to kick Junior out of the party and find a quick replacement?

A knock at the door. She couldn't spare time to nurse her conscience. It would take all her energy to host her grand party. Fannie Kiem and her sister Frieda arrived first, almost giddy with excitement.

“Oh, Dottie,” Fannie said, unwrapping the scarf from around her neck. “I'm so excited for your party.”

“Adam Burkholder is coming,” Dottie said.

Fannie squeaked and grabbed Dottie's arm. “I know. That's why I'm so excited.”

Dottie took Frieda's coat. “Perry Newswenger is coming too.”

Frieda sighed loudly. “
Denki
for trying, but Perry likes his cell phone and nothing else.”

Perry had not yet been baptized, and he seemed glued his new phone. He had over a hundred games on it. “He's not bringing his phone tonight,” Dottie said.

“He's not?”

She nodded. “I wrote a personal note on the bottom of his invitation.”

Frieda raised her eyebrows. “Maybe I'll get a little attention after all.”

Hopefully all Frieda's dreams would come true tonight. It was going to be that kind of party.

Dottie made a point to greet all the guests as they arrived. It may have been Aunt Elsie's house, but Dottie was the hostess, and she was the one who had to make sure that everyone had a wonderful-
gute
time.

By a quarter after the hour, nearly everyone had arrived. Adam Burkholder and Mark Hoover. Sarah Nelson and Marvin Eicher. By Dottie's count, only four people unaccounted for.

Just as she thought about them, someone else knocked on the door.

She opened it eagerly. Her last four invitees stood on the porch. Suzy and Emily Miller, Roy Kanagy, and Mahlon Graber looked like a charming group of carolers.

Then Dottie nearly fell backwards. Erla Schmucker poked her head from behind Roy. “Hi, Dottie. I hope you don't mind.”

Grinning like tabby cat, Suzy brushed the snow from her bonnet, stepped into the house, and unbuttoned her coat. The rest followed her. “I told Erla she'd could come along with us tonight. She's heard all about your famous cream puffs.”

Dottie stretched a smile across her face and felt as empty as an abandoned well. All her careful plans had just blown out the window because Suzy had the nerve to bring an uninvited guest. She couldn't very well ask Erla to leave.

Could she?

No. No. Mustn't even consider such a thing. Erla's feelings couldn't come at the expense of her perfect party.

Right?

Right.

She couldn't do it, even though she was sorely tempted.

Dottie deflated like a balloon with a slow leak. They had to play Mamm's favorite game, and that favorite game required an even number of people.

She knew what she had to do.

“Ada,” she said dully. “Will you get the door if other people come?” Other uninvited guests.

“Of course, silly. It's my house.”

Dottie paused at the eats table long enough to pull a candy cane from the little tin can she'd decorated with sparkles. A peace offering. She hoped Gid would accept it.

She trudged up the stairs. He'd gloat, of course, but what other choice did she have? There simply must be even numbers at Mamm's party.

She steeled herself against his reaction and prepared to eat a little crow. She'd eat a whole flock if he'd just agree to come down to the party he wasn't invited to. He'd folded the napkins. Maybe he would be eager to see how people admired them.

She knocked lightly a couple of times, almost afraid he'd answer it. Then she threw all caution to the wind and gave the door five good, strong raps.

He opened the door, and with a curiously amused look, propped his hand against the doorjamb two feet above his head. Dressed in his coat, snow pants, winter beanie, and heavy gloves, he looked as if he was ready for a snowball fight.

“Is your room cold?”

“
Nae
,” he said. “I'm going snowshoeing.”

“It's dark outside,” she said, stating the obvious. Wouldn't he rather attend her really fun party than go snowshoeing?

“The moon reflects off the snow. I can see well enough.”

“It's cloudy. There is no moon.”

“I'll take a flashlight,” he said, with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “I'm not fond of being cooped up in this room all night.”

Feeling worse by the minute, she swallowed the dust in her throat and held out the candy cane. “I . . . I brought you this.”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward as he took her offering and slipped it into the pocket of his snow pants. “Isn't there a party going on downstairs?”

“Thank you for folding my napkins.”

He bowed his head in an uncharacteristic show of modesty and burst into a wide grin. “No thanks necessary. It's a talent I share freely with others.”

That teased a smile out of her despite how sheepish she felt. “I didn't mean to meddle in your life.”

“
Jah
, you did.” He tempered his words with a smile.

“And I'm sorry for disliking you so much.”

He shrugged. “I destroyed your pies. You have good reason.” They stood staring at each other, Gid eyeing her curiously, Dottie trying to work up the courage to ask him.

He pointed down the stairs and broke the silence. “Don't you have a party?”

“That's the thing,” she stammered. “Erla Schmucker showed up.”

“Does she smell bad?”

“What?”

He chuckled softly. “Is that why you've left your own party?”

Dottie tried to join in his merriment but couldn't muster anything better than deep mortification. “Erla wasn't exactly invited.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”

Jah. Oh
.

“I know you planned on snowshoeing.” She nibbled on her fingernail and studied his face. “And after all that's happened, I shouldn't even have the nerve to ask, but please will you come to my party?”

She waited for him burst into laughter or at least fix that cocky, self-assured grin on his face and say something clever that would make her feel about three inches tall. She'd certainly brought it upon herself.

Instead, the empathy in his voice knocked her completely off-kilter. “I'd be happy to. We want it to be extra
gute
for your
mamm
.”

“Oh, okay. Yes. For my
mamm.
” Had he noticed how she had to scrape her jaw off the floor?

He peeled off his gloves and pulled the beanie from his head, then slipped out of his coat and snow pants and threw everything on the bed in the small guest room. “I have to warn you,” he said, as he stepped into the hall and shut the door, “I usually win all the games. So if you don't like to lose, you better not play.”

“I usually win all the games,” Dottie countered. “So maybe you better watch out.”

“We'll just see about that.”

They sauntered down the stairs together, Dottie feeling almost overwhelmed with Gid's uncommon kindness. “What about your sore toe?”

A teasing glint flashed in his eyes. “I can play through the pain.”

“It might give me an unfair advantage in the games,” Dottie said.

“With me as your opponent, you'll need all the advantage you can get.”