The Lopsided Christmas Cake (2 page)

“They do help when there’s so much to be done.”

“I suppose. One thing I know we need to do is paint.” Thelma gestured to the wall behind the woodstove. It was coated with soot.

“You’re right,” Elma agreed. “I think most of the rooms in this house could use some paint. That alone will help to spruce things up.”

Thelma pushed a piece of her hair back under the black scarf covering her bun. Then she gestured to the missing handles on a few of the cupboard doors. “The whole place seems to be falling apart. Didn’t Grandpa fix anything?”

“He and Grandma were old. Their health was slipping before the accident.” Elma spoke in a quieter tone, tears welling in her eyes. “I think it was too much for him to keep up.”

“You’re probably right,” Thelma agreed, “but wouldn’t you think they would have sold the place and moved to Sullivan to be closer to family?”

“Remember, Dad tried to talk them into moving.” Elma rinsed another jar. “But our grandparents were too independent to budge. They would probably still be running their store if the accident hadn’t happened. Besides, it can’t be easy selling the home you’ve always known.” Tears clung to her lashes. She would miss seeing them. Grandpa told funny jokes. Grandma knew how to cook better than anyone and always had a delicious treat waiting whenever the twins came to visit.

Unfortunately, due to how busy they’d been at their folks’ store, the twins hadn’t made a trip to see their grandparents for two years. That saddened Elma, because she and Thelma hadn’t been able to see Grandma and Grandpa before they’d died. But knowing they’d been entrusted with this old house and the store fueled her determination to make a go of it.

“Guess I can’t blame Grandma and Grandpa for staying put,” Thelma admitted. “This place was special to them. It was their home for as long as I can remember.” She pushed the mop under the table. “It’s hard for older people to lose their independence and rely on others.” She sighed. “I don’t look forward to getting old.”

“Try not to worry about aging,” Elma said. “Let’s take one day at a time and try to—”

“Enjoy the moments we have on earth.” Thelma finished her sister’s sentence and set the mop aside. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of working. With all the organizing and de-cluttering, we’ll never find time to do anything fun.”

Elma flapped her hand. “Oh, sure we will. The holidays will be coming soon. There’ll be all sorts of fun things to do.”

“Like what?”

“We can go Christmas caroling. If we get enough snow, we can get that old sleigh out of Grandpa’s barn.”

Thelma perked up. “A sleigh ride sounds fun. We can put bells on the horse’s harness, and sing Christmas songs, like Grandpa used to do when we were little.”

“Don’t forget the holiday baking we’ll get to do,” Elma put in. “We can make Grandma’s special Christmas cake—you know, the one she used to fix whenever we came to visit during the holidays.”

“I’ve always liked that special cake with Jell-O
^™
in it.” Thelma gestured to the woodstove across the room. “If we have to use that old relic, everything we make will probably flop. Besides, I’m not the world’s best baker.”

“We can’t afford to buy a propane-operated stove right now. We’ll make the best of what we have.” Elma had removed another jar from the cupboard when she spotted a little gray mouse skittering across the floor. Startled, she loosened her grip on the jar, sending it crashing to the floor. “
Ach!
Did you see that?”

“See what?”

Elma dashed into the utility room, grabbing the broom. Instead of cleaning the mess, she shoved it under the stove, swishing it back and forth.

“What are you doing, and what did you see?”

“There’s a
maus
in here! Didn’t you see it?”

“No, I didn’t, and you won’t get it with that. We need to bring in one of the
katze.
Grandpa always said his cats were good mousers.”

Elma grimaced. “You know I don’t like katze in the house.”

“Would you rather have a maus?”

Elma shook her head vigorously. “They’re
ekelhaft
little creatures.”

“If you think they’re disgusting, then let me bring in a cat.”

“Okay.” Elma grabbed a dustpan. She swept up the broken glass and beans. “After he gets the maus, make sure he goes outside.”

When Thelma stepped outside, she spotted one of the cats curled in a ball on the saggy porch. “Come with me, Tiger.” She bent down and picked up the cat. “You have a job to do in the kitchen. I’ll bet you’ll appreciate the meal.” Even though one of the neighbors had been feeding the animals since her grandparents had died, this cat looked scrawny.

Meow!
Tiger opened his eyes, looking at Thelma as if to say, “Why’d you wake me?”

Thelma took the cat inside and set him on the floor near the stove. “Get the mouse, boy!”

Elma’s gaze went to the ceiling. “You think he’s gonna listen to you?”

“Tiger may not understand what I said, but if that mouse moves, the cat will spring into action.” Thelma stood back with her arms folded, waiting to see what would happen.

“Tiger?”

“Jah. That’s what I named him because of his color. I think it fits. Don’t you?”

“I guess so.”

Tiger sat a few seconds then turned toward a moth that had flown into the room. Thelma ducked. She’d never cared much for moths, especially when they flew toward her face. Tiger took off in good form, heading for his prey that now hovered over the bucket of ashes near the stove. The cat leaped into the air and upset the container.

“
Die katz laaft im esch!
” Elma shouted.

Thelma groaned. Her sister was right—Tiger walked in the cinders and had caught his airborne snack. She knew if she didn’t get him quick, he’d be tracking the mess all over her clean floor.

Thelma dashed across the room, but when she was about to grab the cat, the mouse shot out from under the stove. Elma shrieked and jumped on a chair. Dropping the moth, Tiger chased the mouse. Thelma raced for the door. Jerking it open, she was relieved when the mouse made its escape. Tiger followed. Slamming the door, she turned to face her sister. “You can come down now. It’s safe.”

“For now, anyway,” Elma muttered, stepping down from the chair. “If there’s one maus in the house, there’s bound to be more. What if there’s a whole family of them?”

“Maybe I should bring Tiger back in,” Thelma suggested.

Elma shook her head. “Not now. I think we’ve done enough here this morning. Let’s finish cleaning this mess. Then we can fix lunch. When we’re done eating, we can head over to the store to see what needs to be done there.”

When they’d finished cleaning the floor, Elma stepped out of the room and came back with a notebook. “Here’s the list I started. I’ll make another one when we go out to the store.”

“Pretty soon we’ll have so many lists you won’t know which one to look at,” Thelma teased; then she got serious. “Do you think we should hire someone to help us in the store? That would give us more time to do some other things around here.”

Elma shook her head. “Maybe later. Right now we can’t afford to hire anyone.” She opened the refrigerator, glad they’d had time yesterday to pick up a few things at the grocery store. “What kind of sandwich would you like—ham or bologna?”

Thelma shrugged. “I don’t care. You choose.”

Elma took out the packages of lunch meat. “I’m hungry enough to eat two sandwiches, so let’s have both.”

“Sounds good to me.” Thelma got out the bread.

Elma placed the lunch meat on the counter and opened the packages. “You know, Thelma, I’ve been thinking that it’s good for us to be on our own. After all, we’re not
kinner
anymore. We need to prove to ourselves, and also to Mom and Dad, that we can make a go of things.”

“You’re right.” Thelma gave Elma’s arm a tender squeeze. “With the Lord’s help, we can handle most anything.”

I
wonder if we’ll ever get this yard in shape.” Elma kicked some scattered leaves as they walked past a dead bush. “There’s so much to do here; I feel overwhelmed by it all.”

Thelma clasped her sister’s arm. “Don’t worry so much. It’ll get done in good time.”

“I hope so, but that’s our first priority.” Elma motioned to the general store, several feet behind the house. According to Grandpa, with the help of his friends, he built the store a few years after he and Grandma were married.

When Thelma heard chickens clucking, she glanced to the left. “I just remembered, we didn’t check for eggs last night. Think I’d better do that right now.”

“Go ahead. I’ll head over to the store and start organizing some of the shelves.” Elma took a few steps in that direction but turned around. “Don’t be long. There’s lots of work, and it’s going to take both of us.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t take much time to gather a few eggs. I’ll join you shortly.”

After Elma walked away, Thelma headed for the chicken coop.
My sister worries too much. People shopped at Grandpa and Grandma’s store when it wasn’t perfectly organized. If we don’t have everything just so, I’m sure it won’t affect our business.

Thelma thought about her folks’ store back home and how, between Mom and Elma, everything was kept neat and tidy. One or both of them seemed to be constantly cleaning and organizing. Thelma had never enjoyed cleaning that much. Organizing was definitely not her thing. She’d rather wait on customers so she could visit.

When Thelma opened the door to the coop, she was greeted by several cackling hens. She remembered collecting eggs with Grandpa when she was a little girl. He would talk about a few of his favorite chickens and had even given them names.

Thelma fed the chickens first and gave them fresh water. When that was done, she grabbed a basket and filled it with eggs. It was fun to see the different colors. Not all the chickens were the same, and not all of the eggs were white. Some hens laid eggs in various colors. She was surprised to see any eggs at all, since one of Grandma’s neighbors had been taking care of the animals. Perhaps, since they knew Thelma and Elma would arrive yesterday, they hadn’t collected any more eggs.

Thelma hummed, reaching under a stubborn hen that wouldn’t move off its nest.
Bawk! Bawk!
The chicken ruffled her feathers and hopped to the floor, looking back at Thelma as if to say, “How dare you steal my egg.”

Thelma looked out the small window facing the corral. She saw Rusty, the horse Grandpa bought a few months before he died. His old horse, Cutter, had been pulling their rig the day of the accident and was killed. That left only Rusty available to the twins. Unfortunately, he was still a bit green and would be a challenge.
One more problem,
she thought.

Satisfied that she’d gotten all the eggs, Thelma moved toward the door. “Oh, great,” she chided herself when she realized that she’d left it open. “Sure hope none of the chickens got out.”

Thelma’s brows furrowed as she stepped outside and saw chickens roaming all over the yard. “Good grief! Now I have chickens to round up.”

She set the basket on the ground and moved toward the nearest chicken. Apparently, the hen didn’t want to be caught, because it took off like a flash. The other chickens scattered, too.

The chickens really didn’t need to be in the coop all day. She’d wait until nightfall, when they would be subject to predators, to put the birds back in their coop. They’d be easier to catch when it started getting dark, and she’d have Elma’s help.

Thelma grabbed the basket and hurried into the house. She took care of the eggs first then paused for a drink of water. After working in the kitchen most of the morning, Thelma was tired. Too bad Elma wanted to work at the store right now. Thelma wanted to sit outside and work on the gloves she’d begun knitting for Mom’s Christmas gift.

Maybe I’ll get my knitting out now and do a couple of rows,
she decided.
If I sit a few minutes, I’ll have more energy to help Elma clean the store.

Elma swiped a trickle of sweat on her forehead and pushed a wayward hair under her scarf. If the store had been open for business today she would have worn her stiff white head covering. But with all the sweeping and dusting she’d been doing, her normal covering would have gotten dirty.