Winter Is Not Forever Page 12

  “And what would we ever do with a teacher?” I said tartly. “We can barely manage ourselves.”

  “That’s the point,” said Grandpa.

  “You aren’t expecting a schoolteacher to teach all day and then come home and cook supper for—”

  “ ’Course not! ’Course not!” said Grandpa holding up his hand and shaking his head.

  “Then what did you mean? How’s boarding the schoolteacher going to help us out any? And, besides, where would we put her?”

  “We have extry bedrooms.”

  “Where?”

  Grandpa looked at me like I wasn’t even thinking. “Well,” he said. “Iffen you recall, there is one just down the hall from you.”

  “Aunt Lou’s?” I threw out the words as if Grandpa was considering treason.

  “Was,” corrected Grandpa. “Was Lou’s. Don’t recall seeing her use it for some time now.”

  He was being a little sarcastic, but I had it coming. Still, I couldn’t imagine him letting someone else use Lou’s room. “Sarah uses it,” I argued.

  Grandpa thought about that for a few minutes before responding. Then he nodded his head. “I’ve thought on that,” he said. “She does come now and then, an’ I sure wouldn’t want to be discouraging that.” He chuckled. “Isn’t she somethin’?” he went on. “You see the way she helps Charlie?”

  I had seen all right. And yes, Sarah was really something. Grandpa laughed again, an outright guffaw. “The other day she was even bossin’ him. ‘Uncle Charlie,’ she says, ‘I think you are making your biscuits too stiff. Mamma adds more milk.’ “ Grandpa laughed again.

  “So what did Uncle Charlie say?” I asked, hoping to sidetrack the conversation and, thus, the ideas.

  Grandpa laughed again. “He winked at me over her head and said, ‘You’re jest like your mamma—a little take-over.’ But he loved it, I could tell.”

  But Grandpa wasn’t ready to let his wild idea drop.

  “Sarah could sleep on a cot in the corner of the kitchen,” he said.

  “In the kitchen? What kind of sleep would a child get there in the kitchen with you and Uncle Charlie having your coffee and talking over the affairs of the day?”

  Grandpa thought about that for several moments. I had scored a point.

  “You’re right,” he admitted at last. “I’ll sleep in the kitchen.”

  “You?”

  That idea was almost as preposterous.

  “I’ve slept on the cot before,” Grandpa informed me rather firmly.

  I bit my lip. I didn’t want to say something that I shouldn’t.

  “You still haven’t listened to my full idea,” Grandpa went on.

  “There’s more?” I hadn’t intended to sound smart, but it sort of came out that way. I felt my face getting a bit red and knew that I wasn’t fair to Grandpa.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Go ahead.”

  Grandpa cleared his throat. He seemed to feel that we were finally getting somewhere.

  “You know Charlie is having a bad time getting things done around the house?”

  I nodded. We all knew that. But a teacher? A teacher would have no time and no inclination to help out three—

  But Grandpa was going on. “Well, for some time now I’ve been a thinkin’ that what we really need is a hired girl.”

  A teacher? A hired girl? I didn’t say it, just thought it, but Grandpa must have read my mind.

  “Now, a teacher’s much too busy teachin’ and preparin’ lessons to be able to help around the house, but to get in someone else, well that poses a problem too. Can’t hardly ask a young girl to be moving into a house alone with three men, now, can ya?”

  I agreed, but I still couldn’t follow Grandpa’s line of reasoning.

  I shrugged and spoke to the team. Somehow I felt hurrying them might also hurry Grandpa to his point.

  “So iffen we have the teacher there; then it won’t be a problem getting a hired girl,” he said quickly.

  “What?” Was Grandpa really proposing not one woman to live in, but two?

  “Simple!” said Grandpa.

  “And where you planning to put her?” I said in exasperation.

  “Well, we got two spare bedrooms as I see it,” Grandpa said flatly.

  Gramps’ room! The bedroom off the kitchen. I hadn’t even thought of it—and I was surprised that Grandpa had.

  I guess he read my mind again, for he kept right on talking. “A room is for use, Boy. Not for a shrine. One of the girls can have the upstairs bedroom and the other the downstairs bedroom. I don’t much care who takes what. They can work that all out between themselves. Thing is, Charlie needs help, and you and I just don’t have the time to spend in the kitchen. Yer ideas for better farmin’ have been good, real good. But they also take lots more work to put into practice—you know that. Fella can’t be two places, doin’ two jobs at the same time. Now—”

  But I cut in. I had better control now and spoke evenly and softly. “Have you talked to Uncle Charlie?” I felt that Uncle Charlie would be on my side.

  “Not yet,” said Grandpa. “Wanted to run it by you first.” Grandpa gained some ground there. It flattered me that he had chosen to confer with me. But I was still far from convinced.

  I thought the idea an awfully dumb one but I knew that rather than arguing with my Grandpa, I should be logical.

  “What makes you think the school board would okay a teacher staying with us?”

  “Already talked to the board chairman,” Grandpa admitted.

  “And if the teacher refuses?”

  “She hasn’t. Says that our place is right handy to the school and that it is easier to board where there aren’t lots of kids.”

  So this wasn’t some sudden idea of Grandpa’s. He had already been working—behind our backs.

  “Where could we find a hired girl?” I asked next, hoping that I’d stumped him on that one. There weren’t many girls in our area old enough to know how to keep house who weren’t already keeping their own.

  “Mary Turley,” said Grandpa simply.

  “Mary? Mary is needed at home.”

  “Not anymore. Her ma is feelin’ just fine now, and she has two younger sisters who—”

  I was beat on that point. I tried for another. “Who says she’d be willing to come? She—”

  “She did,” Grandpa said frankly.

  I felt anger starting to rise. There sat Grandpa throwing out this wild and crazy scheme; he hadn’t talked to either Uncle Charlie or to me before, but he had been sneaking around arranging the whole thing without us even having the chance to have our say. I had never known Grandpa to do anything so—so backhanded before.

  “Now wait,” I said, holding up a hand just as I had often seen Grandpa do. “Do you think you’ve been fair? I mean here you are, making all these arrangements and not even asking Uncle Charlie or me what we think about the whole business. Don’t you think you should have asked our opinions? After all—”

  “I’m askin’ ya now,” Grandpa said smoothly.

  “Well, it sounds to me like it’s a little late,” I continued. “I mean you’ve decided—”

  “Nothin’s decided.”

  “But you’ve asked.”

  “Just put out some feelers,” argued Grandpa.

  “Quite a few feelers, I’d say,” I countered rather hotly.

  “Two,” said Grandpa. “Whether we could keep the teacher as a boarder, and whether we could hire some help.”

  “We haven’t even talked about whether we can afford the help,” I reminded him. “What if we don’t get a crop? What if—”

  He surprised me by chuckling. “That’s the beauty of the whole plan,” he said. “The teacher’s board pays the hired girl.”

  I could only stare. He had thought of everything.

  I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. I still didn’t like the idea one bit. What in the world would we do with two women in the house? We’d been alone for so long, and we kn
ew our own routine and our own quirks. How in the world would we ever make room and allowance for two women? How could Grandpa even think that it would work?

  Yet it was still his house.

  Then I thought of Uncle Charlie. It was true that Uncle Charlie found it difficult to care for the household, but at least he still had the feeling of being useful. Uncle Charlie would never agree to having a woman come in and take over his kitchen. Why, that would be admitting that he was no longer of use to anyone. Uncle Charlie would never be shelved like that.

  “As I see it,” I said, mustering my courage, “it’s Uncle Charlie’s decision. The house is his area.”

  “Exactly!” agreed Grandpa enthusiastically. “That’s just the way I see it, too.”

  Did Grandpa know Uncle Charlie better than I did? I slapped the reins over the rumps of the horses.

  CHAPTER 19

  Arrangements

  SARAH PLEADED TO GO with me to the store, and I couldn’t resist the coaxing in her eyes.

  “You know your mamma and papa don’t want me to buy you candy,” I warned her as I led her by the hand to the waiting team.

  “I know,” she said cheerily. “But I like being with you anyway, Uncle Josh.”

  She could say her j’s just fine now. She could also sweet-talk. I looked down at her to read her face, but she seemed so open and honest. I gave her hand a little squeeze.

  “I like being with you, too,” I assured her.

  “Where do we go first?” she asked me as I lifted her up onto the wagon seat.

  “First the feed store, then the post office, then the hardware, and finally the grocery store.”

  She seemed quite satisfied with our schedule.

  The feed store didn’t take long; I threw the two bags of supplement feed on the wagon and we moved on.

  The post office was busy, and I had to stand in line for some time before the clerk handed me our mail. But it was worth the wait. There was a letter from Willie. I tore the envelope open before I even returned to the wagon and began to scan the pages.

  “What you got? A letter for you?” asked Sarah from her perch on the wagon seat. I nodded and climbed up beside her.

  “Are you gonna read it?” she asked further, which I thought was rather a silly question seeing as I was already reading it. And then I realized that the questions were to remind me that Sarah was there beside me, feeling a need for a little of my attention. I reached out and took her tiny hand.

  “There’s a new catalog there,” I told her. “Would you like to look at that while I read my letter?”

  Sarah responded immediately to the arrangement. “We’ll both read our mail,” she said with a grin.

  The first part of Willie’s letter was all about Camellia and their courtship and their plans and what a wonderful person she was and how she was learning and growing. I skimmed quickly since it was still rather painful.

  Then I came to a part that really interested me. Camellia had been to call on her pa.

  It was really hard for her, wrote Willie. It was easy to understand that. I knew how Mr. Foggelson felt about religion of any kind, and I could imagine how he would respond to Camellia’s becoming a believer.

  But as tough as it was, she was glad that she went, the letter went on. For one thing, it helped her to understand her ma more. When we were home at Christmas Camellia tried hard to pursuade her ma to go back to her pa. Her ma just shook her head but wouldn’t say anything about the situation. It made Camellia very angry with her mother.

  You can imagine how surprised Camellia was to discover that Mrs. Foggelson didn’t stay behind—she was left behind. Mr. Foggelson has no intention of ever resuming the marriage. He told Camellia that her mother had written him twice asking him to forgive her for not being the kind of person she should have been, and for going back on her Christian faith. She also told him that she would be willing to try again, but that she had to be free to be the person that she had been before their marriage—that is, to be a Christian.

  Camellia finally realized that Mrs. Foggelson would have joined Mr. Foggelson again, but this time she would stand firm for her Christian beliefs. Needless to say, he would not agree. In fact, he had quite made up his mind long before he moved from town. He told Camellia that he had found someone “more compatible.” It nearly crushed Camellia.

  For a moment I was filled with such anger toward Mr. Foggelson that I could feel my whole body tensing. Then I remembered that he was a victim of lies and deceit. His false beliefs had taken him down a dark and destructive path. Only God could reach out and open his blinded eyes.

  But I felt terribly sorry for Camellia. How shattering it must be to discover the truth about the father that she had idolized for so many years.

  Willie’s letter went on. What I really wanted to share is my good news. I went before the Missions committee last week and was accepted. I am to leave for South Africa in two weeks’ time. Of course, I go with mixed emotions—I can hardly bear the thought of leaving Camellia behind, but she is tremendously brave about it. She—

  And Willie’s letter went on and on about the virtues of his betrothed.

  A tug on my sleeve reminded me that I had company. Sarah’s little eyes turned wistfully to me.

  “Are you done yet?” she asked, handing the catalog back to me. “I am.”

  I nodded. “I’m done, too,” I told her. I still had so much to think about, but now wasn’t the time. I would reread the letter and digest the contents.

  “Now where?” asked Sarah as I lifted the reins.

  “The hardware store. I need some nails, and some rivets for fixing the harness.”

  Sarah waited patiently while I made my purchases; then we crossed the street to do the grocery shopping.

  As I was depositing the parcels in the wagon, Sarah looked at me with big blue eyes. “Do you need anything at the drugstore?” she asked.

  I shook my head and was about to lift her up to the wagon seat when I stopped. “Why?” I asked her.

  “Just wondering,” she said with a shrug of her slight shoulders.

  A light began to dawn. “You know I told you I couldn’t buy any candy today.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh, then added sweetly with a tip of her head, “but I didn’t know if a soda counted or not.”

  “Come on, you little trickster,” I laughed, taking her hand. “I don’t know about a soda, but an ice cream cone might be okay.”

  Sarah skipped along beside me, her tiny face beaming.

  “I want chocolate,” she chirped. “What do you want, Uncle Josh?”

  When I reached Aunt Lou’s to drop off Sarah and pick up Grandpa, I heard part of a conversation that wasn’t really intended for me. I was not trying to eavesdrop; I just came in quietly and at the wrong time.

  Sarah had not come in with me. As we pulled into the yard we saw little Janie Cromstock from two houses down. She and Sarah were good playmates, and Janie called Sarah to come play on her new swing.

  “Can I please, Uncle Josh?” she pleaded.

  “You have to ask your mamma,” I reminded her.

  “Can you ask for me? Please?” Her big eyes searched mine. “You’re going in anyway,” she reminded me.

  “Okay,” I said, “I’ll ask, but if it isn’t okay with your mamma I’ll call you and I’ll expect you to come right home.”

  She nodded in agreement, and tripped off after Janie. Thinking Jon might be taking his afternoon nap, I entered the back porch quietly and upon hearing my name hesitated a moment.

  “ … does Josh think?” Aunt Lou was asking Grandpa.

  “He kicked about it,” Grandpa said in reply and then chuckled. “But he didn’t make as much fuss as I feared he might.”

  “So are you going to do it?”

  “Have to get it past Charlie first,” said Grandpa matterof-factly. “And do you think he’ll agree?” Again Aunt Lou was questioning.

  “Just depends.” Grandpa sounded thoughtful. “I
know Charlie needs the help, but I also know that Charlie needs to be needed. Iffen he can give up his household duties and still feel he’s not just in the way, then I think he’ll agree. It all depends.”

  I knew then that Grandpa had talked to Aunt Lou about his crazy scheme. I was about to burst in and tell Aunt Lou what I thought of the idea when I heard her say, “It would be such a load off my mind. I worry so about you—all of you. I think that it would be the wisest thing you’ve ever done.” Then she added quickly with a chuckle, “Since you had me, of course.”

  I knew better than to let my feelings be known. I hesitated, made a bit of noise with the door and tapped lightly before entering the kitchen. Grandpa and Aunt Lou were sitting at the table sipping from tall lemonade glasses. Lou looked up.

  “Did you sell Sarah?” she asked playfully.

  “She begged to go to Janie’s to try a new swing. I said I would ask your permission. Can she?”

  Aunt Lou shrugged and laughed. “I guess she already has,”

  she responded.

  “Yeah, but I told her I’d call her if it wasn’t okay with you.” “It’s okay. At least for a few minutes. I’ll call her after she’s had a while to play.”

  Aunt Lou rose to pour me some lemonade and pushed the oatmeal cookies toward me.

  “Get everything ya needed?” asked Grandpa, and I nodded. “Got a letter from Willie, too,” I said.

  “Any news?”

  I turned to Aunt Lou, who had asked the question. I wasn’t one for sharing gossip, but I felt that she had to know some of the information Willie’s letter had contained.

  “I know how you have been seeing Mrs. Foggelson and studying the Bible with her and all since she started coming back to church again. I know that you are excited about the way she is seeking to let God lead in her life again.” I hesitated. “But I also know that you, like me, have been a little impatient with her for not going back to Mr. Foggelson.”

  Aunt Lou nodded, her big blue eyes intense.

  “Well, Camellia went to see her pa and found out the truth,”

  I said. For a minute I couldn’t go on. I felt like I was about to disgrace the whole Foggelson family.