A Child's Christmas Wish. Erica Vetsch
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watched the two men walking side by side down the slope to the barn, one white-haired and lean, the other strong and tall. How many times had she watched Johann and Grossvater like this, heading out for a day of farming together?
“What should we do now?” Liesl took Kate’s hand.
“What do you usually do in the mornings?” Kate asked.
“Go to the barn with Daddy.” Liesl shrugged. “That’s a funny coat.”
Kate smiled at the quick swap of topics. “It is, isn’t it? That’s because it belonged to my husband. It’s kind of big, but when I wear it, it helps me remember him.” She headed for the kitchen door, her stomach rumbling. “All that work made me hungry. How about we get a snack?”
Grossmutter was already in the kitchen, surveying the room, hands on hips. Kate knew that look.
“Liesl,” Kate said, bending to the little girl. “I don’t think we properly introduced you two. This is my Grossmutter. That means ‘grandmother.’ I am sure she won’t mind if you call her that, since it seems like we will be staying with you for a few more days.”
Grossmutter smiled, her lined face gentle as she put a work-worn hand on Liesl’s head. “Schätzchen.”
Liesl looked to Kate.
“That means ‘sweetheart.’”
The child beamed. “She’s nice. And so are you.”
“I think we should have our snack, and then we can see about helping out around here. We might not be welcome in the barn, but we can make a difference in the house.” Kate went to the cupboard. She felt the need to keep busy, to keep her thoughts at bay for a while. And to somehow repay a bit of Oscar Rabb’s kindness.
She sliced a rather misshapen loaf of bread and spread it with butter.
“There’s honey in the pot on the shelf.” Liesl pointed. “I like honey on my bread.”
So they had honey, too. Afterward, Grossmutter found a broom, and Kate wiped Liesl’s chin and hands with a damp cloth.
“You and I can do the dishes, and you can tell me where everything goes.” Kate drew a chair up to the counter for the child and filled the washtub with warm water from the stove reservoir. Shaving a few soap chips off the cake beside the pump, she stirred them until suds formed and placed the breakfast dishes and snack plates into the water.
Liesl talked the entire time they washed and wiped dishes. “Daddy doesn’t like doing dishes, so he waits until night time to clear up. He says he’d rather do a lot at once than have to do them a lot of times during the day.”
Kate smiled, handing her a tin cup to dry. She wasn’t overly fond of dishes herself.
“Daddy lets me help, but I can only dry the cups and spoons and forks. He does the plates himself. When I’m big enough, I’ll do all the dishes all by myself. Daddy says he will be glad when that day comes.”
Grossmutter opened the kitchen door and swept the dirt outside and off the porch. When she came in, she began sorting the boots and shoes beside the door into neat rows.
By the time the men had finished the barn chores and returned to the house, Kate had washed the kitchen windows with vinegar and water, scrubbing them with crumpled newspaper that Liesl had found for her, and Grossmutter had taken her broom to the cobwebs in the corners and along the crown moldings. Liesl had been given a damp cloth and the task of wiping down all the kitchen chairs, which had been moved into a row at the far end of the room. Kate had tied an empty flour sack around the little girl’s waist to spare her pinafore. She looked adorable, concentrating on each rung and chair leg, chattering the whole while, surprisingly at ease with the women when it was clear she spent almost all her time with just her father.
“What are you doing?” Oscar filled the doorway.
“Daddy. I’m cleaning. Aren’t I doing a good job?” Liesl held up the rag, her face alight. “Kate and Grossmutter are cleaning, too.”
Kate looked up from her hands and knees where she was scrubbing the floor around the stove, and Grossmutter put a row of glasses back in the cupboard, having just wiped down the shelves.
“You are doing a beautiful job.” He nodded to his daughter, but he didn’t take his eyes off Kate as he came in and put his hand under her elbow, helping her to stand. “Could you come outside for a moment?”
His eyes were stern, his expression fierce. Though his grip on her arm was firm, it wasn’t tight as he directed her to the porch.
“Where are you going, Daddy?”
“We’ll be back soon, Poppet. Just keep on with what you’re doing.” He closed the door behind him.
Kate clasped her elbows, turning to face the sunshine. Overhead, a V of Canada geese honked and flapped, heading for warmer temperatures.
“What are you doing?” Oscar asked. “Scrubbing my floors?”
She looked up at him. He stood with one hand braced on a porch post, the other on the railing, looking out over his fields dormant now that the harvest was over. He wore a patched flannel shirt, the plaid faded from many washings, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms dusted with brown hair. Everything about him exuded masculinity and strength. And his jaw had a hint of stubbornness.
He also clearly had a bee in his bonnet about expectant mothers doing basic chores. What was she supposed to do? Wrap herself in a quilt and huddle in a rocking chair until her time came?
“You don’t have to scrub my house. I know I’m no housekeeper, but my house isn’t exactly a pigsty.” He frowned, and she realized he wasn’t upset about her working while in what he called “a delicate condition.” Rather, they had offended him.
“Of course your home isn’t a pigsty.” She went to stand beside him. “I’m so sorry if we’ve overstepped. Grossmutter and I are keeping busy and, in a small way, trying to repay you for some of your kind hospitality.”
Some of the tightness went out of his shoulders. “I’m not looking to get repaid. Anyway, you shouldn’t be scrubbing floors. You should be sitting at that table with your family figuring out what you’re going to do next, where you’re going to go.”
Because the sooner they were out of his house, the better. He hadn’t wanted them to begin with, and he wanted them gone at the earliest possible moment. Her eyes stung, but she blinked hard, unwilling to cry.
“We’ll do that now.” She went back into the house, picked up the sudsy bucket and went outside, pitching the contents in a silvery arc onto the grass beside the steps. When she returned to the kitchen, she began placing the chairs around the table once more. Grossmutter and Grossvater stood at the dry sink, watching her with troubled eyes.
“Are we done?” Liesl asked, still holding her rag.
“For now. Why don’t you go see your daddy? He’s out on the porch.”
“I want to stay with you and clean. I like cleaning.” The child swiped the seat of the last chair with a flourish.
“I know you do, sweetling, but there are things we grown-ups have to talk about.” Kate motioned to her family.
Liesl’s eyes narrowed. “Things that little girls aren’t supposed to hear?”
Kate had to smile at the child’s perspicacity. “That’s right, little miss. You go outside, and take Rolf with you. I’m sure he’s ready for a run.”
Liesl took her sweet time going out, letting Kate know she wasn’t pleased with the end of the morning’s activities, and Kate smothered a smile. Such a saucy little minx.
Lowering herself carefully into a chair, Kate clasped her hands on the shiny tabletop and looked at Grossvater. “What are we going to do? Can we rebuild the house? Even a smaller one?”
Grossvater