Read The Lopsided Christmas Cake Online

Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

The Lopsided Christmas Cake (4 page)

“I appreciate that,” Elma said. “So how would you like to go shopping tomorrow in Shipshe?”

Thelma smiled, remembering how often Grandpa had used that shortened version of the name Shipshewana. The town had several good places to shop and eat. “That’s a good idea.” She reached for a cookie. “Maybe I’ll look for the paint we need.”

Elma smiled. “I could use a new pair of shoes. Of course, they’ll have to be on sale.”

Thelma took a sip of tea. “There’s one thing we need to consider.”

“What’s that?”

“Shipshe’s ten miles away. It’s a bit far to ride our bikes. That means we’ll have to get out Grandma and Grandpa’s old buggy and take—”

“Rusty,” they said in unison.

Elma frowned. “We haven’t used him yet. I hope that horse behaves himself.”

Chapter 4

T
he next morning, Elma was surprised to see Tiger lying under the kitchen table. He looked a bit better since Thelma had brushed him the evening before. She’d thought her sister had put the cat out before they went to bed last night. But at least he’d slept in the kitchen, where they’d already seen two mice.

When Elma reached under the table, the cat opened his eyes and stretched. “Come on, Tiger, out you go. You’re not going to stay in the house while Thelma and I are shopping today.”

Elma picked up Tiger, opened the back door, and set him on the porch. She stopped for a moment to take a deep breath of cold air. Was that frost she saw on the grass? Could the warmer days of summer be gone already?

She grabbed an armful of wood and hauled it inside to feed the woodstove. Elma rubbed her arms. The overnight temperatures had dropped, leaving it a bit chilly inside. Soon, the pleasant sound of wood snapping and popping filled the air. A sudden wave of sadness flowed over her. She thought about all the times she and Thelma had warmed themselves in front of this stove when they were children. Grabbing the edge of her apron, she wiped her eyes. Elma didn’t think she’d ever get used to cooking or baking in the old relic. Due to their lack of money right now, it could be some time before they’d be able to buy a stove like they had at home. But at least this one heated the kitchen.
Maybe that’s why Grandpa and Grandma held on to this old thing. Grandma had gotten used to cooking on it, and it does possess a certain unique charm.

After Elma was sure the fire was going, she got out the loaf of banana bread one of the women had given them yesterday. It would go well with the eggs she’d boiled last night, along with a cup of hot tea.

As Elma set the table, she rubbed her fingers over one of the plates. Another memory flashed across her mind. Grandma always made fluffy pancakes when the family came to visit. Pancakes were one of Elma’s favorite breakfast foods. When she was younger, she often ate as many as six for breakfast. “I’ll have to see if I can find Grandma’s recipe,” she murmured.

Her thoughts turned to how things had turned out after she and Thelma had found customers waiting at the store yesterday afternoon. It was nice to get acquainted with some of the women from their area, and even nicer to know that they lived in such a caring community. Elma was pleased to have met such kind ladies. How glad she was that they hadn’t made an issue of Tiger chasing that mouse.
Maybe I shouldn’t have worried about it, either. I know I can be a bit fussy sometimes.

When Elma first realized that some of the women wanted to shop, she wasn’t too happy about it. She and Thelma still hadn’t cleaned or organized much, not to mention taking inventory. But after reminding herself that they needed some money coming in, she’d gratefully accepted their cash and checks. Since the news was out that the twins had inherited their grandparents’ store, she figured the best thing to do was keep the store open during the weekdays. They could reorder supplies and do their cleaning and organizing in the evenings. Of course Thelma, who was taking a shower right now, had other thoughts about that. She’d made it clear that she wanted her evenings free to knit or do other things. Thelma even said she didn’t think the store was as bad as Elma thought. She couldn’t see any need to organize, since their customers probably knew where things were already. Elma didn’t agree.

Knowing she needed to get busy, Elma checked the firebox on the stove. It had heated up nicely, and the kitchen was getting warmer. Now if Thelma would get here, they could eat breakfast and get on with their day. They’d decided to put the C
LOSED
sign in the store window today, and she was anxious to leave for Shipshe. Then later, if there was time, she hoped to sort through some things in their store to see what may have expired and need to be thrown away.

A bloodcurdling scream reached the kitchen. Dropping the silverware on the table, Elma raced from the room and dashed down the hall. “Thelma, what’s wrong?” she hollered, pounding on the bathroom door.

“Except for the cold water that was running down on me, I’m okay.” Thelma’s voice boomed through the closed door. “It went from lukewarm to ice cold. Let me tell you: it’s the coldest and quickest shower I’ve ever had to take.”

“Sorry. When you screamed, I was worried that you’d been hurt.”

“No, I’m fine—just feel like I’m gonna freeze to death.”

Elma sighed with relief. She was glad Thelma wasn’t in serious danger, but they did need to address their inadequate hot water supply. “I have breakfast ready,” Elma said through the door. “So unless you need something, I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be there shortly.”

When Thelma entered the kitchen a short time later, she was still shivering. “Did the water turn cold like that when you took your shower?” she asked.

Elma shook her head. “No, but it wasn’t hot, either. I wonder if the water tank may be going out.”

“One more thing we’ll have to fix.” Thelma rubbed her hands over her arms. “Look at me. My arms are full of goose bumps.”

“Put this on.” Elma grabbed a sweater and handed it to Thelma. “You may want to stand by the stove. It’s warming up nicely in here.”

“Is that frost I see out the window?” Thelma asked before slipping into the sweater and moving closer to the stove.

“Seems to be. I think we’ll be seeing fewer warm, summery days now that fall is approaching.”

“At least this old stove is good for something.” Thelma scooted closer to the source of heat.

“Jah, but if we get more money coming in soon, I’d really like to replace it.” Elma took a seat at the table. “I have everything set out, so whenever you’re warm enough we can eat breakfast.”

Thelma stood near the stove a few more minutes then joined Elma. Bowing her head, she silently prayed,
Heavenly Father, thank You for this food and the hands that prepared it. Please keep us safe as we travel to Shipshe today, and let this be a good day. Amen.

LaGrange, Indiana

Joseph Beechy opened the door to his harness shop and drew in a deep breath. The odor of leather and pungent dye filled the room. These were aromas he was accustomed to, as he’d been making and repairing harnesses and other leather items since he’d graduated from the eighth grade. Of course, that had been a good many years ago, since Joseph would be turning thirty-eight the first week of December.

“Thirty-eight years old and still a bachelor,” Joseph muttered as he turned on the gas lamps overhead. “Guess I’m destined to remain single.”

It was hard to admit, but Joseph had never developed a serious relationship with any of the young women he’d known. He had been interested in a few of them; although his shyness had always gotten in the way. His face would heat up and he’d start to stutter whenever he approached any single women who’d caught his eye. Maybe it was best that he’d never married. Life was less complicated that way—although he did long for a wife and children and had even prayed for that.

Maybe it’s my ears women don’t like,
he thought, tugging on one of his earlobes. Though Joseph’s ears were an average size, they stuck out slightly. He’d always been self-conscious about them. Of course, it hadn’t helped that some of the scholars who’d attended school with him made fun of his ears. They never dared to do it when the teacher was around, but that hadn’t stopped them from teasing Joseph when they had Joseph alone. Had it not been for his older brother, Eli, standing up for him, Joseph would have probably been taunted even more.

Eli and their sister, Katie, were both married and each had four children. As much as Joseph enjoyed spending time with his nieces and nephews, he felt left out. It was a reminder that he’d probably never have a family of his own. Of course, if Joseph should ever find the woman of his dreams, he might step out of his comfort zone and at least try to approach her without making a fool of himself.
Finding the woman of my dreams? That’ll probably never happen.

Joseph’s gaze came to rest on the loosely rolled leather pouring out of the shelves along one side of his shop. In an area near his workbench, bits of leather scraps lay piled on the cement floor. If his mother walked in right now, she would probably scold Joseph for not cleaning up after himself. Since this was his place of business, he figured he had the right to decide how it should look. Maybe that was another good thing about not being married. If he had a wife, she might come into the shop and tell him to clean the place up.

Moving over to some open boxes full of snaps, rings, buckles, and rivets, Joseph rolled up his shirtsleeves, deciding that he needed to quit thinking and get to work. He’d connected the breast strap of a harness to a large three-way snap, when his good friend Delbert Gingerich entered the shop.

Delbert’s long legs took him quickly across the room. “
Wie geht’s?
” he asked, stepping over a pile of dirty leather straps and buckles.

“I’m doin’ fairly well, Dell. How about yourself?”

“Can’t complain.” Delbert gestured to the harness Joseph held. “Looks like you’re hard at work here, Joe.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m just gettin’ started.” Joseph grinned. He and Delbert had been friends since they were teenagers. When Delbert started calling him “Joe,” he’d given his friend the nickname “Dell.” Since neither of them was married, they often did things together, like fishing, playing horseshoes, or having a good game of Ping-Pong. Of course Delbert, having longer, stronger arms, usually won at horseshoes. But Joseph almost always caught the biggest fish. While the men shared common interests, they had very different personalities and appearances. Delbert had blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and dimples that would turn any woman’s head. Joseph’s red hair and freckles made him feel homely in comparison, but that didn’t matter much since Delbert seemed more interested in making his woodworking business successful than in looking for a wife. And while Delbert was outgoing and competitive, Joseph was timid and didn’t care whether he won or lost at most games they played.

“What brings you by this morning?” Joseph asked.

Delbert snapped his suspenders. “I’m heading to Shipshe to pick up a few things and thought you might like to go along for the ride.”

Joseph shook his head. “I’ve got too much to do here to be going on any joyrides.”

“I’ll treat you to lunch.” He thumped Joseph’s back. “How’s that sound?”

“Where are you planning to eat?”

Delbert shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m thinking maybe the Blue Gate.”

Joseph looked down at the stain on his trousers. “Naw, that place is too nice for a working fellow like me.”

“How about Wana Cup Restaurant? It’s fairly casual.”

“Jah, and they do have some pretty good pies and homemade ice cream.”

Delbert bobbed his head. “That’s right, they sure do. So are you willing to leave your work for a while and go to Shipshe with me?”

“Jah, sure, why not?” He set the harness on the workbench. “My work will be waiting for me when I get back.”

Other books

Queen of Demons by David Drake
The Emperor's Woman by I. J. Parker
Murder At The Masque by Myers, Amy
Safeword by A. J. Rose
Body Parts by Caitlin Rother
Breathing For The First Time by Mary E Thompson
The Creatures of Man by Howard L. Myers, edited by Eric Flint
Slain by Harper, Livia


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024