As Frankie, whose favorite game was playing tag with the girls, barked and howled while Annie laughed and squealed, Emma finally relaxed. Her youngest could make even the cloudiest days seem brighter. She had certainly lifted Emma’s mood after that upsetting conversation with her mother. Feeling back on track once again, Emma got to work with a new sense of peace.
Out from the refrigerator came the salads and two Mason jars filled with pickles that she’d jarred a few months back. Next came a tall pitcher of lemonade. She was just reaching into her small pantry for the bags of potato chips when Mandy wandered into the kitchen, leaned against one of the counters, and sighed.
“Mandy, why aren’t you outside playing with Frankie?”
“’Cause I’ve got something to ask you.”
Impatience warred with curiosity. Then, seeing as how Mandy had that look on her face that said she was settling in for a good long while, Emma stopped and faced her daughter across the counter. “What is it, dear?”
“Mommy, I don’t see why the boys have to come over,” Mandy said, pouting.
Emma was surprised—and curious as to what had brought this on. But she couldn’t resist teasing her middle girl a little bit before she got her answers. “That wasn’t a question . . .”
“I know.” Mandy plopped both elbows on the counter and rested her head in her hands, as if she were an old lady.
“What is wrong with the boys?”
“Boys are gross.”
Well, this was certainly a new opinion for her six-year-old.
“Boys are not gross, and you like William, Mark, and Ben,” Emma said. “Plus they have all been mighty nice to you. You shouldn’t speak about them that way.”
“I’m only telling you the truth.”
“No, you’re being mean,” Emma retorted, deciding to nip her six-year-old’s sudden, contrary mood in the bud. “I don’t know what brought this on, but you have picked a bad time to start being unneighborly.” Before Mandy could begin another outburst, Emma pointed to the stack of paper goods on the kitchen table. “Now help me put all the paper plates, napkins, and cups out.”
“Mamm, you said we didn’t have to help.”
“I also said I wanted you to go out and play with your sisters and Frankie and Mark, who just arrived. You chose not to do that. Therefore, you can do this.”
“I’m gonna go right now.” Then, before Emma could chastise Mandy for ignoring her directions, Mandy darted out the door, just as Tricia, Ben, and Beverly came in the same way.
“Whoops!” said Beverly with a grin. “Someone is in a hurry.”
That “someone” also knew how to behave far better than she was. If she’d been alone, Emma would have marched outside and told Mandy what she thought about her behavior. But if she’d been alone, Mandy would have likely not been causing so much trouble. Which, of course, was part of the problem, Emma realized. This situation was just as new and nerve-wracking for Mandy as it was for her mother. She should have thought about that and prepared the girls better.
Suddenly Emma felt exhausted by the weight of all of her responsibilities. Sometimes she was just so tired of trying to do everything. It was impossible. That knowledge, of course, brought back all of her worries and doubts. She was pretty good at pretending she was fine, though. And that was definitely what she needed to do now.
She smiled brightly. “Hello! Wilcom!”
“Hiya, Emma,” Ben said as he led the way to the kitchen. “We saw the girls in your yard so we came on in. My daed and William are out there now, too.”
“I’m glad you all could come over.” Then, noticing that all three of them had full hands, she said, “What did you bring?”
“Berries,” Ben said. “Blackberries and strawberries, too. My brothers and I picked them just this morning.”
The fruit was in a medium-sized white stoneware bowl. As soon as he pulled the white dishcloth off the top of it, the delectable scent of fresh fruit floated across the kitchen.
She closed her eyes and sniffed deeply in appreciation. “They look wunderbaar. Danke.”
“It was nothing. We already washed them, too.”
“Perfect! Would you mind setting the bowl over there with the other food?”
While Ben went to do that, Beverly stepped to her side. “That is quite a spread, Emma. Were you cooking all night?”
“Nee. Just a little bit.”
Tricia chuckled. “That’s not what Lena said. At church she whispered that you were cooking most of yesterday and this morning, too.”
“Lena does like to talk. Let me see what you ladies brought.”