The Lopsided Christmas Cake (6 page)

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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

BOOK: The Lopsided Christmas Cake
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Delbert had crossed the street to meet Joseph for lunch, when he saw an Amish woman going into Spector’s. He was surprised to see that it was the same young woman he’d bumped into at the hardware store. “That’s strange. I thought she was wearing a green dress.”

“Who were you talking to?” Joseph bumped Delbert’s arm.

Startled, Delbert whirled around. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I finished what little shopping I decided to do and thought we were supposed to meet here before we went to lunch.”

Delbert’s face heated. “We were…. I mean…” He didn’t know why he felt so flustered all of a sudden.

“So who were you talking to?” Joseph asked.

“No one. I mean, I was talking to myself.” Delbert pointed to Spector’s. “Did you see a woman go in there a few minutes ago?”

Joseph shook his head. “Nope. Can’t say as I did.”

“I bumped into her at Yoder’s Hardware, and I thought she was wearing a green dress. But when I saw her again, I realized her dress was blue.”

Joseph thumped Delbert’s shoulder. “What’s going on here, friend? Are you interested in that woman?”

“Course not. I don’t even know her. Never saw her till today, in fact.” Delbert scratched his head. “I wonder if she’s married.”

Joseph punched Delbert’s arm. “Don’t get any ideas. Remember, we’re both confirmed bachelors.”

Chapter 6

Topeka

W
hat are you thinking about, Thelma?” Elma asked as they ate breakfast Sunday morning. “You look like you’re five hundred miles away.”

Staring out the window, Thelma sighed and glanced back at her sister. “No, not five hundred—maybe ten miles or so.”

Elma’s eyebrows lifted. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing.” She picked up her glass of apple juice and took a drink. She wasn’t about to tell Elma she’d seen an attractive Amish man at the hardware store the other day and couldn’t quit thinking about him. Elma would tease her. Besides, it wasn’t likely she’d see the man again, much less get to know him.

“You must have been thinking about something or you wouldn’t have been staring off into space.” Elma reached for the salt shaker and sprinkled some on her scrambled eggs. “But if you’d rather not talk about it, that’s okay with me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Thelma didn’t like where this conversation was headed, so she quickly changed the subject. “When we were in Shipshe the other day, I picked up some candy. Think I’ll put it in my purse and hand it out to the kinner who are in church today.”

Elma smiled. “The children in our church district in Sullivan always enjoyed it when you gave out candy, so I’m sure the ones here will like it, too. By the way, did you get the paint you went after?”

“Uh-oh. Guess I got sidetracked and forgot. I’ll have to make another trip to Shipshe sometime this week.” Thelma went to get her purse from a wall peg near the back door. Then she grabbed the bag of candy from the cupboard. When she opened her purse to put the candy in, she noticed the cooking show flyer she’d put in there and forgotten about. “Look at this, Sister,” she said, bringing it back to the table with her. “I found it on the floor in Yoder’s Hardware the other day.”

Elma took the flyer and put her reading glasses on. “‘Shipshewana Cooking Show. All contestants who enter will have their baked or cooked item auctioned off.’” She removed her glasses and squinted as she looked at Thelma. “This looks interesting, but why are you showing it to me?”

“Didn’t you read the rest of the flyer? The proceeds from the auction will help people in the community who have medical expenses. It’s for a good cause.”

Elma moved her head slowly up and down as she placed the piece of paper on the table. “I saw that, and if we have time we might go to the event and give a donation of whatever we can afford.”

“Oh, no,” Thelma said, her excitement mounting as she thought more about this. “I think we should make something that will be auctioned off. We could make a dessert from Grandma’s favorite recipe book.”

“That’s a nice thought, but with all we have to do here and at the store, we don’t have the time for something like that.”

Thelma motioned to the flyer. “The cooking show doesn’t take place until the first Saturday of October, so we’d have almost a month to figure out what we want to make and get it done. We could take an evening, and instead of working on the puzzle, or me knitting, we could bake something. It wouldn’t hurt for us to close the store that day, either, so we could attend the event.” Thelma paused to catch her breath then kept going with enthusiasm, her voice growing louder. “It would be a nice way for us to contribute to a good cause. I’m sure others in our community here in Topeka will be attending the show that day.”

“You sound pretty excited about this. I’ll give it some thought. Right now, though, we need to finish our breakfast so we can be on our way to church.” Elma drank the rest of her juice. “It wouldn’t be good for us to be late on our first Sunday attending services here.” Thelma glanced at the battery-operated clock on the wall behind them, noting that it was only seven o’clock. “I’m sure we’ll get there in plenty of time. By the way, did you find the shoes you were hunting for at the store in Shipshe?”

Elma stuck out her foot. “Jah. I’m wearing them. I also found some material for a new dress in the color I wanted.”

“That’s good to hear. At least one of us got what we went after.”

Elma looked at the table and frowned. “I wish the Millers’ place was close enough for us to walk.” She picked up her readers and put them in her eyeglass case. “I can’t say that I’m looking forward to going anywhere again with that unpredictable horse.”

Thelma reached over and patted her sister’s hand. “Not to worry. I’ll be in the driver’s seat the whole way.” She leaned back in her chair, enjoying the warmth of the stove. The sun’s light poured into the kitchen, adding a warm, golden glow. “I’ll take charge of driving Rusty until you feel ready to sit in the driver’s seat again.”

Elma sighed. “That’s a relief. After what happened with Rusty the other day, I’m in no hurry to drive again.”

Thelma tipped her head. “Did you hear that noise?”

“What? I didn’t hear anything.”

“It sounded like a cat shrieking, and I think it was coming from the basement.” Thelma stood. “Maybe we should go check.”

“Why don’t you go while I do the dishes? It’s almost time to leave for church, and if we both go to the basement, we’ll have to leave the dishes till we get home this afternoon.” Elma glanced at her new shoes. “Sure hope I chose the right size shoes. These are pinching my toes a bit.”

“Sorry about that. Maybe you ought to take them back.”

“No, I think they’ll be okay once I break them in.”

“Okay, whatever you think best. I’m gonna run down to the basement and check on that noise.”

Thelma grabbed a flashlight, clicked it on, and started down the basement steps. When she reached the bottom, she turned on one of the gas lamps. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was quiet.
That’s sure strange. I was almost sure I heard a cat.

“Tiger, are you down here?” She clapped her hands. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

No response.

Holding the flashlight in front of her and swatting a few cobwebs out of the way, Thelma began searching, while calling for the cat.
I guess one of these days we’ll have to clean this basement, or the spiders are going to take over.

Behind the stairs, she still saw nothing then ducked, but it was too late. “Eww…” She’d walked headlong into a dirty web. Quickly, she pulled away the silken strands gummed to her cap and forehead. “Come on, kitty. Where are you?” she called again. “You don’t have to hide from me. If it was Tiger, the friendliest of all the cats, she was sure he would have responded—unless he was trapped.

“Here, kitty. Where are you, kitty?” Thelma stood still and listened, but except for her sister humming upstairs and the sound of water flowing through the pipes, she still heard nothing. Her nose twitched.
This place smells like a combination of dust and mildew. It really needs a thorough cleaning.

“Thelma, are you coming?” Elma shouted from above. “If we don’t leave now, we are definitely going to be late!”

“Okay, I’m on my way.” Thelma headed up the stairs, wondering if she had imagined the noise.

Back in the kitchen, she’d put the flashlight away and had turned to head out of the room, when Elma pointed at her. “You must have brushed against something downstairs. There’s a smudge on your dress.”

Thelma brushed it away. “Looks like dust. There are plenty of cobwebs in the basement. Someday we’ll need to go down there and clean.”

“We’ll add that to our ever-growing list of to-dos.” Elma sighed. “Before we go, did you remember to turn off the gas lamp in the basement?”

Thelma bobbed her head. “At least, I think I did.” She tapped her chin. “You know, I can’t remember doing that. I’d better run back down and make sure it’s off.”

Elma sighed. “Really, Sister, I wish you would try to stay a little more focused.”

“Sorry about that. I was listening for the noise I heard. Plus trying not to eat any spiders,” she added under her breath.

“Did you find out what it was?”

“No, I didn’t hear it again, and when I looked around with the flashlight I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, either.” Before Elma could comment, Thelma grabbed the flashlight and headed back downstairs.

As soon as Thelma reached the bottom, she saw that she had left the gas lamp on. She reached up to turn it off, when she heard that same catlike screech. The sound came from way back in one corner of the basement. Shining her flashlight, she discovered one of the cats in a small wooden box full of rags. Beside it was a tiny kitten, and it appeared as if the little one had recently been born. No doubt, the mama cat would deliver more babies soon.

Thelma clasped her hand over her mouth.
Oh, my! If Elma finds out about this, she’ll want to move the cats out to the barn. Well, she can’t know. I’ll have to keep it a secret and find a way to keep Elma from coming down here until the cats are old enough to go outside. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about cleaning the basement.

As the twins headed for church with their unpredictable horse, Elma tried to relax. Rusty was doing much better for Thelma than he had done for her the other day.
He must have sensed my fear,
Elma thought.
I’m glad my sister isn’t afraid and was willing to drive.
The thought of sitting in the driver’s seat, trying to keep control of the horse they’d inherited sent shivers up the back of Elma’s neck. She knew she had to get past her fear or she’d never be able to drive their buggy, but right now she couldn’t deal with that. Maybe once Thelma got Rusty tamed a bit, Elma would try taking him out again. Of course, she’d make sure her sister was along, in case there was a problem.

As they approached the Millers’ home, Rusty picked up speed. He’d apparently gone there before with Grandpa in the driver’s seat and was anxious to get there again. It made Elma wonder if Rusty was anxious to see some special horse at the Millers’.

Even with her nervousness over the horse, she noticed how pretty the Millers’ farm was, nestled back in, off the road.

“Can’t you make him go any slower?” Elma asked as Thelma directed the horse up the driveway. “Look at the dust he’s kicking up behind us. People will think we’re crazy, approaching like this.”

“I’m trying to, but Rusty seems quite excited.”

Elma noticed that her sister was holding the reins pretty tight, and it looked like she was gritting her teeth. Maybe she wasn’t as confident driving this aggravating horse as she’d let on.

“Whoa, Rusty!” The twins called in unison.

Thelma pulled back on the reins, and the horse came to a stop a foot or so from the barn. She looked over at Elma and smiled. “We’re here!”

Elma released a quick breath. “Jah, and thank the Lord we didn’t run into the barn.”

After one of the young men came up to greet them and took Rusty away to be watered and stabled, Elma walked across the yard with Thelma. Several women were clustered outside on the lawn near a large white building that Elma assumed was Mr. Miller’s workshop. A group of men stood chatting in a line on the other side of the shop door.

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