Streams of Mercy (7 page)

“Uh-oh. Here comes the Benny Express.” Gerald smiled down at his oldest son. “I bet you are all starving.”

“Yep.” Benny grinned up at him. “Delivering the little ones.”

“Oh, they have trouble walking now?”

“Ride. Benny, ride.” Annika lifted her arms to her mother and Anji swooped her up while Gerald grabbed Swen and spun around with him in his arms.

Swen had the most infectious giggle, and within moments the kitchen walls bulged from the laughter.

“How are we supposed to get food on the table with all the children underfoot?” Rebecca raised her hands in mock surrender. “Guess there will be no supper tonight.”

“No supper?” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Oh no!”

“Uncle Toby!” The children shouted together and headed for the man who had just come through the back door and was hanging his coat by the door.

“Help! I’m being attacked!”

“Serves you right. Take your admirers into the parlor so we can get supper on the table.” Rebecca motioned down the hall with a nod.

“Sorry. We are being banished.” He grabbed the rope to Benny’s wheels and away they went, everyone trying to tell him something important at the same time.

Shaking her head, Lissa looked up at her mother. “I think they like Onkel Toby.”

“I think you are right.” Anji looked over the table. “What are we missing?”

“Milk. I can’t carry the pitcher yet.”

“Sorry, I’ll get that. How does your hand feel?”

“Thumpy, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Anji filled the glasses on the table, many only halfway for the younger ones. She set the cream pitcher next to the sugar bowl with a teaspoon already in it. For some strange reason, lately she had decided she liked her coffee better with the addition of cream and a little sugar. Her mother and father would surely roll over in their graves if they knew what she was doing.

“We can eat as soon as the biscuits are done. Gerald, will you please supervise the handwashing, and then we can sit down.” Getting everyone in their right place, including two high chairs and a small box for another, sometimes took some doing.

After all were seated and grace said, Anji set the platter of biscuits next to Rebecca and took her own seat next to almost-four-year-old, towheaded Annika, who needed a box on her chair to get her to a comfortable height. Had the Valders grandparents been in attendance, the children would have been silent at the table, but Onkel Toby was often at their table and enjoyed getting them talking—and laughing.

Toby looked across at Anji. “Seems to me I see you and Thomas Devlin together a lot lately.”

She nodded. “He’s become a good friend.”

At the wiggle of his eyebrows, she could feel warmth start up her neck. Perhaps she should rethink her plan to go with him
to Thorliff’s gathering tonight. Toby wasn’t the first to inquire if there was more to their friendship than they were revealing. Since Mr. Devlin was still an Anglican priest, Anji hadn’t given the possibility much thought. Now, if he chose to remain here in Blessing as a teacher and give up the priesthood . . . She banished that thought before it could grow. However, he most certainly was an entertaining friend.

When they’d finished the meal, with only one glass tipped over and that almost empty, the children were sent to the living room, where Lissa and Benny would read aloud. The two women cleared the table and did the dishes. After refilling coffee cups, they sat down at the table, and the three adults looked to Toby, who was drawing a letter out of his pocket.

“This came today, and I figured we should make some decisions right away.”

“The letter is from?”

“Mor and Far.”

“Well, I’ll be . . .” Gerald shook his head. “Took them long enough. Are they coming back?”

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Toby pulled the kerosene lamp closer so he could read more easily. “Dear Toby and Gerald . . .” He looked up. “Mor’s handwriting.” He returned to the page.

“I am sorry to have left everything in such disarray, but I was given no choice. We are settled now, and Mr. Valders has a job at a local bank.”

“Where are they?” Gerald asked.

“I have no idea, other than the postmark that is so blurred because it got wet that I can hardly read it.”

“No return address?”

“No, none.”

Gerald and Rebecca exchanged puzzled looks. “Go on.”

“Mr. Valders has decided that if you boys want to keep the house, that is fine with us, but if you choose to sell it, please send us the proceeds. I pray all is well with you and your families. Greet the others from me.

“Sincerely,
Mrs. Hildegunn Valders”

“Wait. Our own mother signed it Mrs. Hildegunn Valders?” Gerald stared at his brother.

“Ja, if this isn’t the strangest letter, I don’t know what would be.” Toby held the paper up for them all to see. “That’s it.” He handed Gerald the envelope. “See what I mean?” Picking up his coffee cup, he sipped and shook his head. “I personally think Far has gone over the edge. I thought that when he stormed out of town, and when he returned like he did, I was sure of it. It could even be that he dictated this letter. It sounds more like him than her.” He laid the paper in the middle of the table. “So, the way I see it, we need to decide what to do.”

Gerald shrugged. “What is there to decide? We have a house, and you need a place to live, so it is yours.”

“But that house is far bigger than this one, and you have a growing family. You would be much more comfortable there. We would just exchange.”

“But this one is set up for Benny.”

“He goes up and down the stairs here, so he could do the same there, and we could build a ramp outside like we did here. Granted, this house is closer to the soda shop, but not that much.”

Gerald studied his wife, who was looking troubled. “What do you think?”

“I think I would rather stay here.” She frowned. “True, the other house is bigger, but . . .” They all waited for her to continue. She chewed her bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t like that house as much.” She stared down at her hands, clenched in her lap.

Anji watched her baby sister struggle with trying to figure out an answer. “Do you have to decide all this tonight?”

Both men shrugged. “There is a third possibility to consider—well, actually several others. We could sell it and bank the money until we have an address to send it to. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to purchase it. Another idea would be for Anji to move into the house.”

“But you live there.” Anji blinked. “Besides, I . . . uh . . . I don’t have the money to buy that house.”

“I didn’t say
buy
it. You are family, after all. You wouldn’t need to buy it.”

“But what if . . .” She paused and shook her head.

“What if what?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, what if your folks come back and get really angry and . . .”

“The letter leaves the decisions all in our hands. There is no way we can send them the money or anything else, since we have no idea where they are. What we decide is what happens. Besides . . .” Toby grinned at Anji, an eyebrow raised. “You could marry me, and then we’d both have a place to live, and no one would be able to gossip.”

“You aren’t serious. You’re like my brother.”

“But we really are not related.”

“And I have four children.”

“All of whom call me Onkel Toby and are already family.”

Anji had never been one to sputter. She calmly made decisions and acted upon them. But this—this crazy idea . . . “Surely you—you don’t mean this.”

“Toby, quit teasing her.” Rebecca rolled her eyes and shook her head. But then she grinned at Anji. “You know that really might be a good way to solve several problems. Maybe we could kill two birds with one stone.”

“An apt description, my dear.” Gerald patted her hand and gave his brother one of those looks of big brother exasperation. “I think we’ve talked about this as far as we can for now.”

Lissa appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mark is crying. I changed him but he wants you, Tante Rebecca.”

“I’ll be right there. Takk.” Rebecca stood. “I suggest we think on this, pray on this, and then decide. In the meantime, we go on as we are.” She left to take care of her crying son.

“I’ll put the children to bed. Do you want more coffee first?” Anji looked to each of the men, who shook their heads. “Good night, then, Toby.” As she left the room, Toby’s offhand remark ate at her mind. Surely he wasn’t serious. Of course anyone in Blessing would say Toby was a very good candidate for marriage. In fact, she’d heard some of the others wondering why he hadn’t married yet. Not that there were a great number of eligible women. When it came right down to it, there were more men in town who needed wives than women who needed husbands.

As she tucked her children into bed and listened to their prayers, she prayed right along with them, but this time her prayer was for wisdom. Yes, she would like to marry again, someday. Immediately Thomas Devlin strode through her mind; she always enjoyed the way he made her laugh. There had been a serious lack of laughter when in the presence of the elder Moens. Proper. Everything had to be proper. If she heard that word once, she’d heard it a thousand times. One had to act and be proper, according to the expectations of society.

Her children had blossomed since moving back to Blessing too. Lissa had gone from sober to sunny. She gazed down at her
two boys already asleep in their bed. Joseph had spent the summer out on the farm and grew from sickly to robust, his funny sense of humor making others laugh. She kissed his forehead and then Gilbert’s. They both looked so much like the pictures she had seen of his father when he was young. Like his father, Gilbert was more serious. He loved reading and learning, although he often confused his two languages. Bilingual was not a bad trait, as Ivar had so often told her. Seeing her sons so peaceful brought back memories of their father. He had gone against the social customs of the day and spent a lot of time with his children. His desire was to create in them a love of learning and the importance of reading. His love of words and story was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him in the beginning.

All those years ago, when she had still been recovering from her years of loving Thorliff but sending him on his way to a life apart from her, she knew she’d done what was best for him, but . . . She shook off the memories. Had that been the best for her? She bent over and kissed her sons again. These children she and Ivar had been given were worth any of the heartbreak she had endured. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered as she left the room. She owed her Norway family another letter. Best get to it.

Back in the parlor, where a big grate brought up the heat from the good wood furnace in the cellar, she joined Rebecca and Gerald. He sat in his wing-back chair reading the newspaper and Rebecca in her rocking chair was hemming a dress for Lissa.

“I thought to do that next.” Anji now had her little maple lap desk tucked under one arm.

Rebecca smiled at her. “You look to be ready for writing letters, and I love hemming. Good thing we can pass your Lissa’s clothes on to someone else. She has grown so fast. Now that I can hem diapers on the machine, this is good.” She smoothed
the daisy-sprigged garment with one hand. “And besides, it reminds me spring and summer haven’t completely deserted us.”

Anji reminded her, “We always get at least one more blizzard after a warm spell.”

Rebecca nodded and returned to her task. “It seems winter always tries to stay around. Perhaps he wants to feel some of the spring warmth too.”

Anji rolled her eyes. Leave it to her fanciful baby sister. Although referring to the accomplished young woman across the floor grate from her as her baby sister was almost a joke. “I saw you had your soda recipes out. Thinking ahead?”

“Yes. As much as we all love coffee, I’m thinking of using coffee both in a soda and in ice cream. I was over at the soda shop the other day, and it sure needs cleaning up.”

“At least we got the mouse and rat traps set last fall.” Gerald flipped one side of the newspaper over so he could see his wife. “They sure like to move into an empty building. And here I thought I’d gotten all their possible entrances repaired.”

“I know. The last times I checked, there were no dead bodies.”

Anji set her lap desk up in her lap and uncorked the ink bottle. Pencil would be much easier, but ink was mandatory for this correspondence. She also used her better paper. Switching her mind to Norwegian, she dipped her pen in the ink.

She didn’t want to open the letter with
Mor.
Too casual. She’d better stay with formal.

Dear Mrs. Moen,

Thank you for the recent letter. I was glad to hear your winter was not terribly severe either. While we have had a lot of snow, the blizzards have been fewer. Now as the melt starts, we pray it will continue slowly enough to not cause flooding. Our Red River has such a propensity for overflowing its banks, due to the northward flow that ends in a lake that takes longer to thaw.

The children are well and Melissa is outgrowing all her dresses.

Anji paused. Should she say that or would it be interpreted as complaining? Or a suggestion that they were in need? Why did even letter-writing feel like she was walking a tightrope? Perhaps she needed another time with Ingeborg, who had come to take the place of her own mother through the years. But she knew what Ingeborg would say, only because she’d said it before.
“Pray
for those who spitefully use you and trust that God will take care of this too. He can see across
the ocean, you know.”
She heaved a sigh and went back to her letter. What to say?

Melissa, Gilbert, and Joseph are doing well in school. I so appreciate that the children in Blessing also learn to speak in sign language due to the deaf school here in town. The other day Melissa asked if one could sign in Norwegian. I said we should look into that. I am sure that in spite of the fact that it is called American Sign Language, other countries must be doing so also. Is that anything about which you might have information?