Emma Blooms At Last (26 page)

His gaze lingered on Amanda, sitting to his left. Was it his imagination, or was she fuller in the face, already abloom with the
life growing inside her? When he squeezed his wife's hand, she shared his purposeful gaze, as though silently saying her thoughts were aligned with his.

After the meal, everyone gathered in the front room. Wyman, Jerome, and the older boys agreed that the purple and turquoise fabric Amanda had wrapped as gifts would make great shirts, and they liked the catch-all containers she'd made them, too. Jemima was pleased to receive her new kapps and black stockings. Lizzie, Vera, and the twins exclaimed over their heart-shaped ceramic what-not boxes, and when the younger kids unwrapped the lined writing tablets, Simon seemed eager to practice his alphabet—mostly so Cora and Dora wouldn't get too far ahead of him at learning their letters. Alice Ann squealed as she unwrapped a pair of faceless Amish cloth dolls, mostly because the girl doll wore a dress of bright pink.

While other presents were being unwrapped, Wyman watched closely as Simon handed his gift to Amanda. The odd-shaped bottle hadn't been easy to cover, so it looked clumpy with all its tucked corners and tape. But Amanda complimented their boy on the paper he had colored, then held up the bottle of cooking oil with a wide smile. “How did you know I just used up the last of my oil, Simon?” she asked brightly. “This is a wonderful-gut present!”

Simon flashed her an adoring grin. “The Wise Men brought precious oil and gold to Baby Jesus,” he explained earnestly. “Seems like a dumb thing to give a baby, but
you
, Mamm—I know you'll make gut things with that oil. Like fried pies, ain't so?”

As laughter filled the room, Wyman delighted in how his youngest son had presented such an unusual gift in his inimitable way and how Amanda grabbed Simon in a hug and loudly kissed his cheek.

Vera then walked over to the china hutch and pulled a
slender, wrapped rectangle from behind it. As she handed it to Wyman, she glanced toward Amanda. “All of us kids worked on this for both of you, Mamm and Dat,” she said. “We hope you'll like it.”

Amanda's face lit up with curiosity as she came over to stand beside him. The children got quiet, anticipation on their faces as Wyman offered Amanda an edge so they could unwrap the gift together.

“It's a list of our names, to hang beside the front door!” Amanda exclaimed as she tore away the last of the paper.

“I'm glad you kids thought of this,” Wyman said. “With so much going on lately, it slipped my mind that the plaque at the Clearwater house was destroyed.”

“And it needed updating, just like the one at this place,” Amanda pointed out. “Denki so much, to all of you!”

Wyman felt a rush of emotion as he read
THE BRUBAKER FAMILY
across the top, followed by his name and Amanda's together, and then the names of everyone else in the household, from the oldest to the youngest. He was secretly pleased that a lot of space remained at the bottom for new additions.

“I was tickled that the kids asked if they could include me on the list,” Jemima spoke up. She was smiling as brightly as Wyman had ever seen, looking ten years younger.

“Jah,” Jerome said as he clasped his great-aunt's shoulder, “we carry the Lambright name, but we're pleased to be considered a part of the Brubaker household.”

“Pete made the frame and the wooden plaque. And Eddie painted it,” Vera began.

“But Lizzie did the lettering, because she writes prettier than I do,” Eddie said.

“And Vera made the little flowerpots along the sides of the frame with pottery chips,” Lizzie continued eagerly. “And it was
Simon who got us the shelled field corn for the centers of the flowers.”

“We twins glued on the dried beans and macaroni shells for the petals,” Dora chimed in.

“And you'll never guess who wanted the pink buttons in the corners,” Cora added with a grin.

“Me, Alice Ann!” the toddler crowed as she climbed into Wyman's lap. She touched each of the buttons with the tip of a tiny finger. “Pink! I wuv pink!”

As Amanda's hand fluttered to her throat, she looked as ready to cry as Wyman felt. “It's perfect, kids,” he murmured. “You each used your special abilities to make this such a special record of our blended family.”

Everyone in the room basked in a moment of collective happiness. Wyman smiled at each one of the kids then. “I bet we can hang this on the wall before the Grabers get here,” he said. “They'll get a kick out of hearing how all of you kids helped with—”

“So, Mamma, does this mean our name is Brubaker now?”

“Like yours?”

Cora and Dora stood together, clasping hands as they gazed intently at their mother. The soft brown tendrils escaping from their buns to frame their little faces made them look all the more precious, so much like their mother that Wyman could envision the lovely young women they would become. He and Amanda had discussed this subject before they'd married, but he felt it best to let her respond to her daughters now that they had raised the issue.

“Your new dat is adopting all three of you girls. It's just a matter of waiting for the legal paperwork to come through.” Amanda smiled at Cora and Dora. “Would you twins like to start going by Brubaker? That way, by the time you go to school, your new name will feel like a natural part of you. We can practice writing it on your new tablets.”

The twins looked at each other, smiling simultaneously. “Jah, that would be gut,” Dora said.

“Everyone at church and school will know we're Simon's for-sure sisters, then,” Cora pointed out. “That'll be real special.”

Wyman kept his chuckle to himself as he watched Simon formulate his answer to Cora's endearing remark. His youngest son was all boy, yet he and his new look-alike sisters were practically inseparable.

Amanda was smiling at her teenager, continuing her discussion before the younger kids sidetracked it. “This adoption situation is a little different for you, Lizzie,” she said gently, “so we're leaving up to you which name you want to go by.”

“You've been a Lambright for more than thirteen years,” Wyman added, “so I'll understand if you keep your father's name. You don't have to choose right now. It's a big decision, and you're grown-up enough to make it.”

Wyman smiled at the slender girl as her face got pink around the edges. While Lamar Lapp had counseled him to announce that Lizzie would become a Brubaker when the adoption was final, the Bloomingdale bishop's well-meaning advice had sounded like something Uriah Schmucker would say. Wyman sensed that Lizzie would be best left to decide on her own. She was looking down now, her long lashes brushing her cheeks as she twirled the string of her kapp around her finger.

“It was my idea to make the new plaque with ‘the Brubaker Family' across the top,” Lizzie murmured. “I want all of us kids to be real brothers and sisters now, with the same last name.”

The front room rang with a sanctified silence. The older kids were nodding in agreement. Wyman was so overwhelmed, he couldn't speak.

“Well, glory be,” Jemima murmured. “If that's not the sweetest thing I've ever heard from our Lizzie.”

“Jah, Lizzie! You said that real gut,” Dora exclaimed as she grabbed her older sister's hand.

“It's like us girls got a new last name for Christmas,” Cora said as she joined their little circle.

“I
suppose
we'll claim you,” Pete teased as he and Eddie began to pick up the torn wrapping paper around the room.

“Even if you're
girls
,” Simon declared. “But can we stop all this yacking now? Merle's gonna be here any minute!”

As the kids began straightening the front room, shifting their gifts from the middle of the floor, Wyman stood up and put his arm around Amanda's shoulders. “This is priceless—mostly because it came as a surprise, from the kids instead of us,” he murmured as he gazed at the list of all their names.

“I
thought
they might be working on something this week, the way they all disappeared into the basement every now and again,” Amanda recalled. “I'm glad I didn't walk in by accident and ruin their surprise.”

“And the way your girls handled the name change?” Wyman went on. “I was concerned about how to bring up the topic of their adoption.”

“Leave it to the twins to see that the i's are dotted and the t's get crossed,” Amanda quipped. “Lizzie's answer was my best Christmas gift. Well, maybe along with your pickles.”

Wyman kissed her, chuckling. “It's been a fine Second Christmas already, and it's only nine o'clock. I can't imagine how this day can get any better.”

A smile lightened his wife's lovely face as she nodded toward the window. “We'll soon find out. Here comes the Grabers' buggy up the lane.”

E
mma clambered down from the buggy with a sense of eager anticipation. Yesterday had been their quiet observance of Christ's birth, but she'd spent a lot more time thinking about Jerome than about the babe in the manger. Surely God had understood, and hopefully He would guide her as she spent time with Jerome today—and for the coming months of their courtship. She and Abby had agreed that their deep green dresses were appropriate for a visit with the Brubaker bunch, and as they picked up the pans of food they'd stacked behind the backseat of the buggy, Emma felt a rush of happiness. While she would always miss her mother, her heart felt hopeful rather than heavy. Somehow, she thought Mamm would approve of that.

“Merle! What took you guys so
long
?” Simon cried as he raced toward them with his coat blowing open. “Merry Christmas!”

“Jah, and merry Christmas to you, Abby, and James!” one of the twins called out from behind him.

“And to you, Emma!” her sister chimed in as the trio scampered through the snow. “Oh, just wait till you see what Jerome's got for you.”

Emma laughed, hugging the children who'd circled the four of them with outstretched arms and rosy, smiling faces. They were all chattering at once, as excited as she remembered being at their age.

“You've gotta see my new wooden train, Merle.”

“We've got White Christmas pie. And a deer roast.”

“Gooey butter cake and a
big
ole turkey.”

“Did you bring me some fried pies, Abby?”

“And Jerome says we can take sleigh rides today, and—”

Emma glanced toward the house, and her heartbeat stilled. There on the front porch stood Jerome. He was holding little Alice Ann, sheltering her from the wind by wrapping both sides of his coat around her. Alice Ann waved gleefully, and Emma waved back. What a picture they made . . . such a tall, strong man holding a blond angel whose face beamed with delight.
He'll make a devoted dat someday.

Emma blinked at that thought. Just a couple of months ago she'd considered Jerome bold and brash, too caught up in showing off his mules to care anything about a tiny child. Yet as he kissed the little girl's golden hair, fixing his gaze on
her
as she started toward the house, Emma had no trouble believing that Jerome would be the perfect man with whom to start a family.
Her
family.

“Merry Christmas to you,” she said as she ascended the stairs to the porch.

“Baby Jesus comed here for Kiss-mas!” Alice Ann crowed. “You gotta see!”

Jerome flashed Emma a knowing smile. “It's quite a story,” he murmured. “All about how everything works out in God's gut time.”

Emma reveled in the shine of his brown eyes and the way he
held her gaze as he challenged her not to lower hers. “Jah, we know about things working out just the way they're supposed to,” she replied. “I brought you a little something for
Kiss
-mas, too, Jerome.”

“Did you now?”

Was his voice husky with anticipation, or was that wishful thinking on her part? Emma stepped into the house, thrumming with the hunch that she was about to spend an incredible day with the Brubaker family, who would someday be
her
family, if her courtship with Jerome went the way she hoped it would.

It was surely Your doing, God, because I was just a scared little mouse trying to scamper away from—

Emma's prayer was interrupted by greetings from Amanda, Vera, and Jemima as they relieved her of the pans she was carrying.

“You didn't have to bring anything,” Amanda insisted. “What with everyone here asking for all their favorite dishes, we've got so much food.”

“Maybe the table will break,” Simon cried as he stepped inside with his sisters. “Wouldn't
that
be something!”

Laughter filled the busy kitchen, and as Emma hung up her coat and bonnet, she felt very much at home. Even so, it was exciting to consider what Jerome had said about building a new house. So many happy thoughts had been filling her mind these past couple of days. What a difference falling in love made.

Falling in love!
Just when grief might otherwise have swallowed her whole, during this first holiday season without her mamm, Emma's heart was dancing and her outlook on life had changed completely. As her dat preceded Abby and James into the house, it was another joy to see the kids grabbing his hands to lead him into the front room even before he could get his coat off.

“Merle, we got a set of dominoes!” Cora crowed. “All the way up to nine—”

“So we can practice our math!” Dora continued excitedly. “Mamm said you would teach us how to play.”

“I'll be happy to,” Merle replied, his face alight. “And I'll show you a nifty trick for knowing the number of dots without having to count them every time, too.”

As Simon and the twins escorted Emma's father to the game table they'd set up, Vera smiled at her. “Emma, I think your dat's day is going to be a long round of eating and playing, and then eating and playing some more,” she said as they began to set the table.

Emma placed a plate at every chair, thankful to be spending this day amongst so many friends. “Denki ever so much for inviting us today,” she said, including Amanda and Jemima in her thanks. “Keeping up with four little ones means Dat won't spend his day drifting off in his chair.”

“And Emma will have something more than her crocheting to keep her occupied,” Abby teased as she began setting silverware and napkins around.

As the women continued visiting and preparing the meal, the men passed through the kitchen on their way to the front room. Her father sat in a chair at the card table with the kids, while James caught up with Eddie and Pete. Wyman was adding logs to the woodstove. When Emma noticed Jerome lingering in the doorway, she smiled at him.

“The kids are looking forward to a sleigh ride today, I hear,” she remarked.

Jerome's handsome face eased into a secretive grin. “They'll get their turn,” he replied. “Then I figured you and I could take our own ride. If you want to, that is.”

As Lizzie and Vera chuckled furtively, Emma felt the color rising in her cheeks. She wasn't accustomed to discussing her romantic plans in front of an audience, but she'd better get used to
that, hadn't she? Here in the Brubaker home, moments of total privacy were rare, she suspected.

“I'd like that,” she said. Emma went toward her coat, which was hanging on the wall, and reached into its deep pocket. “Seems like a gut time to give you this. It's cold out there when the wind kicks up.”

As she handed Jerome a wrapped package, he squeezed it between his hands, his face alight with curiosity. “You didn't have to give me anything, Emma. Just seeing you today is a gift—”

“Truth be told,” she murmured as she leaned closer to him, “this is what I was doing yesterday when it was so quiet at our house.”

As the wrapping paper split, Jerome's face lit up. “How'd you know my stocking cap was getting raggedy?” he asked as he held up the one she'd crocheted for him. “And a scarf, too? These are fabulous!”

“Purple rather than black,” Lizzie remarked playfully. “Isn't
that
special?”

“Well, if there was ever a colorful character in our family, it's Jerome,” Amanda teased. She winked at her nephew. “Might be a gut time to show Emma what you put together for
her
, while the kids are busy.”

“True enough,” Jerome said as he set his new cap on the counter. “I just happen to have a little something stashed in the pantry, Emmie-girl. It was a team effort.”

Emma savored the way Jerome lingered over her nickname as he said it. When he stepped out of the pantry closet, she gasped. “Oh, what a beautiful little Christmas cactus! Look at all of those bright pink blooms.”

“It's a cutting from the one my dat gave to my mamm when they were courting,” Jemima said sweetly.

“A looong time ago,” Lizzie teased. “It's a wonder the plant in
the window has survived a couple more generations of Lambrights and now Wyman's rambunctious lot, too.”

Emma laughed. “Is this one of your pots, Amanda?” she asked as she turned the plant to and fro between her hands. “I really like these colorful chunks along the top of it.”

“Vera's been making wind chimes with some of my broken pottery pieces,” Amanda explained as she slid a blue enamel roaster into the oven. “It was her idea to press some of those pieces into the clay as I was forming a new pot. You're the first person to receive one, and I'm pleased about that, Emma.”

“What a wonderful gift, with so many family attachments,” Emma murmured. “I'll have to find just the right spot for it.”

Jerome stepped closer and gently lifted her chin. “Jemima's Christmas cactus has been in that same window in the front room since I came here as a kid,” he murmured. “But yesterday, it was like I was seeing it for the first time—and all those pretty blooms glowing in the morning sunlight reminded me of
you
, Emma.”

Emma held her breath. When had anyone ever compared her to a blossoming plant?
Glowing,
he'd said. She could tell by Jerome's rapt expression that he meant every word, too.

“I'll be sure we have a big window on the east side of our new home so you can enjoy these blooms when it's cold and snowy outside,” Jerome continued softly. “Would you like that, Emma?”

For a timeless moment, the sound of the women working in the kitchen and the men's voices in the front room faded away. As Emma gazed into Jerome's sparkling brown eyes, she felt as though they were the only two people in the world—sharing a lovely blooming plant that had redefined her self-image, just as Jerome had. While she would never consider herself as beautiful as this Christmas cactus, was it so wrong to believe that Jerome thought she was?

Maybe beauty really was in the eye of the beholder. And
maybe Jerome could help her see herself—her entire life—through fresh eyes. She trusted him now and believed that his intentions for their future were as honorable as they were exciting.

Emma let out the breath she'd been holding. Jerome had just asked her a very sweet question, after all. While she'd known times when fear and self-doubt would have made her hesitate, now she smiled brightly. “I would like that, Jerome,” she whispered. “I'd like it very much.”