Letters to Katie (25 page)
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled, and Cora was struck by how pretty her face was, despite
the chubby cheeks and makeup-free complexion. Her countenance almost made up for her
pear-shaped body.
She took a sip of the tea. It was surprisingly good. But her hands started shaking
as she held the teacup, and she quickly set it down with a loud thump.
“Is there something wrong with the tea?” Emma frowned, looking worried.
“Just a little hot.” She picked up her slice of bread and took a bite. Everyone else
continued to eat, except for Leona.
Cora met the older woman’s gaze. She had noticed the shaking.
Leona noticed everything, Cora suspected. Paid attention,
without drawing attention to herself. Not much got past this woman.
Those were traits Cora could respect.
Emma turned to Sawyer. “When is Laura returning?”
“Week after next. I got a letter in the mail today.” He grinned.
“That’s wonderful.” Emma cut into a large slice of meat loaf.
“Hopefully her parents will come with her. You don’t mind putting them up?”
“Of course not,” Adam said. “We have the room, and Laura is
familye
. I’ll be glad to meet them.”
“So will I.” Sawyer grinned again. “Hopefully I’ll get the stamp of approval from
my future in-laws.”
A knot twisted in Cora’s stomach. Apparently her grandson cared more about two people
he had never met and wasn’t related to than about his own grandmother. She tightened
her grip on the bread.
The conversation turned to boring topics such as gardening and the dog kennel outside.
She barely listened and picked at her food while everyone else finished the meal.
She took a few more sips of the tea. It really was delicious and did have a bit of
a calming effect on her nerves. But she was eager to get back to the Bylers’ and lie
down.
“Everyone ready for dessert?” Emma grinned. “Apple pie and ice cream!”
Of course. A nice sorbet or even fresh fruit was out of the question. She resisted
the urge to roll her eyes.
After dessert, which Cora declined, Emma started on the
dishes while Sawyer and Adam went outside. “Why don’t we
geh
into the living room?” Leona suggested. “It’s more comfortable in there.”
Cora looked around for Sawyer just as the door shut behind him.
He seemed to have forgotten she was there.
“I’ll just go find Sawyer,” Cora said. “Surely he’s ready to go home.”
Leona rested her gnarled hand on her cane. “He’ll come in when it’s time.” She stood
leaning on the wooden cane. Her shoulders were hunched, as if she couldn’t stand up
straight. Yet there was a strength to her presence, one that belied her physical weakness.
Cora couldn’t help but stare at the cane. Simple, made of glossy wood, its curved
handle worn in places where Leona had touched it over the years. It wouldn’t be long
before she herself would have to use one. Would she look as dignified as Leona?
Reluctantly she followed Leona into the living room, which like everything else in
the house was modest, plain, and—well, boring. Leona gestured to the ancient-looking
sofa.
With weary steps Cora made her way across the room and sat down on the sofa. It was
surprisingly comfortable. Leona lowered herself into the wooden rocking chair across
from her. She clutched her cane, but not for support.
It was as if the piece of wood was an old friend, a companion instead of a crutch.
She smiled, her eyes shining bright in the yellow light of the gas lamp. “I hope you
had a
gut
time tonight, Cora.”
Cora nodded. The word
passable
came to mind, but she maintained her silence. She had done what was necessary to
placate her grandson, but that was all. Feeling a little chilled, she started to cross
her arms, noticed her shaking hands, and folded them tightly in her lap.
Leona’s gaze dropped to Cora’s hands. “How was the tea?”
“Soothing,” Cora admitted.
“You seem tired.”
“Perhaps.” Cora lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “It is getting late,
after all.”
“
Ya
. Seven thirty is pretty late.”
Was that all? Cora tried to stifle a sigh. She used to be a night owl, staying up
until the wee hours of the morning. New York never slept, and when she was younger,
neither did she.
“This must be hard on you.” Leona shifted in her chair. Her plain, wire-rimmed glasses
slid an inch down her nose, but she didn’t move them. “And strange at the same time.”
“Definitely strange.” Cora looked at Leona. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude.”
“You didn’t. You sound honest.” She leaned forward. “I appreciate honesty.”
Guilt forced Cora to look away. She hadn’t been completely honest with Sawyer. She
still wasn’t.
“Is there something wrong?”
Cora returned her gaze to Leona. Was she that transparent?
Already losing her ability to hide her emotions? “Everything is fine.”
Leona tapped her cane on the floor. “So much for honesty.”
“I beg your pardon?” Cora moved to stand up. Leona held up her hand, stopping her.
“You’re carrying a heavy burden, Cora. I suspect it’s not just about Sawyer.”
What was this woman, psychic? Then she noticed Leona’s gaze on Cora’s hands.
“My mother taught me the recipe for the tea.” Leona finally pushed up her glasses.
“She had all sorts of recipes for all sorts of ailments. I grew up watching her share
her knowledge with others. She had a healing touch, not just with herbs, but with
her presence. She was constantly in prayer, always asking God for help before she
went to see someone who was ill.”
“This is fascinating, really.” Cora moved to stand up again. But as she reached her
feet, she started to sway. And Leona didn’t miss a move.
She didn’t try to stop Cora either. As she left the room, Leona said, “I will be praying
for you, Cora.”
Cora wanted to tell the woman to keep her prayers to herself, that she didn’t need
them. But she did need Sawyer. She went into the kitchen where Emma was tidying up
the last of the dishes.
“Where is my grandson?”
“He’s still outside with Adam.”
Fatigue and discomfort forced her to dispense with the pleasantries. “Please get him
for me. Inform him I’m ready to leave.”
“Okay.”
Cora could see the normal sparkle in Emma’s brown eyes dim. She’d hurt
the young woman’s feelings. But she didn’t really care. When Emma left to go outside,
Cora sank into the nearest chair. She rested her head in her hands. Things would be
so much easier if she felt better. Instead, everything was a battle—and she wasn’t
sure she would win this time.
Laura finished washing the last of the cookie sheets and dried them with a damp towel.
She and her mother and father had worked late tonight filling a special order of monster
cookies for an English church social. It was nearly eight, and she was weary. But
more than that, she was tired of the strife between her and her
mamm
.
Since that first night on the back deck, her mother had said little to her. For the
past few days she helped out in the bakery, hoping they could talk the way they used
to when they baked high-rising loaves of bread, tender, creamy whoopee pies, and flaky
pies with whatever local fruit was in season. But her mother had erected a wall of
bitterness around herself, and Laura didn’t know how to scale it. She had only a few
more days before she returned to Middlefield. She didn’t want to leave things like
this between them.
When she put the last cookie sheet away, her father turned to them. “That’s enough
for the night,” he said, his hands on his lower back, stretching. Gray threaded through
his beard and thick brown hair, and a light dusting of flour coated his glasses.
“Ya,”
Laura said, looking at her mother. “I think it’s enough.”
Her father stilled. He glanced from Laura to
Mamm
and
shook his head. “Don’t you think it’s time you two set things to rights?”
“I don’t know what you mean,”
Mamm
said.
“
Ya
, you do, Ella.” He walked over to Laura. “Our
dochder
is home, and you’ve been silent toward her almost from the moment she got here. Come
to think of it, you’ve been quiet all around.” He peered at her. “Normally you’re
a chatterbox.”
Laura’s lips twitched into a smile, which disappeared at her mother’s harsh look.
“Matthew, if you knew what Laura was wantin’ to do, you’d be upset too.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?” When neither of them spoke, he said, “You’re gonna make
me guess?”
Laura and her mother both spoke at once.
“She’s making another mistake, Matthew—”
“I love him,
Daed. Mamm’s
not giving him a chance—”
“Is it too much to ask that she take a little time to think about what she’s doing?”
“He loves me. And he’s not like Mark!”
Laura’s mother grew silent. Both parents looked at Laura. “
Mamm
, I know you’re worried. But if you would come back to Middlefield with me, you’ll
see I’m not making a mistake.”
Her mother shook her head. “Absolutely not. Who will run the bakery?”
“I’m standing right here, Ella,” her father said. “It’s not like I haven’t run the
bakery by myself before. Plus, I can call on
mei
bruder
Edward if I need an extra pair of hands.”
“I can’t leave you with all that work.”
“Can’t?” He took a step toward her. “Or won’t?”
Laura watched as her parents gazed at each other, engaging in a silent communication
born of thirty years of marriage. Her mother’s shoulders drooped. “You’re right,”
she said to
Daed
. “You can handle things here.”
“Laura is right too. Give the
bu
a chance.” He lowered his voice. “And give Laura a chance as well.”
Laura’s throat tightened. She’d been so wrapped up in her disappointment that her
mother hadn’t accepted her marriage plans that she failed to see her
Mamm’s
point of view. “I know it’s hard to trust me.”
Her mother stepped away from her father. “Laura,
lieb
. It’s not that we don’t trust you.” She went to Laura and touched her face, pausing
as her fingertips pressed lightly against her thin scars. “We don’t want you hurt
again.”
“Sawyer would never hurt me.”
“You believe that, but—”
“Now it’s time for you to find out for yourself, Ella.”
Daed
moved to stand next to them. “Then you can report back to me. In never-ending detail.
Like you always do.”
Her mother batted him on the arm. Laura grinned.
Finally they were acting like the
familye
she remembered.