“What are Jared and Henry doing?” Sylvia asked.
“Jared made a few comments here and there, but Henry left the room. Said he was going upstairs to read a magazine.”
Amy chuckled. “Leave it up to our teenage brother to make a quick escape. He probably would have done that anyway, even if Monroe hadn’t showed up.”
“I have a hunch Mr. Esh has taken an interest in your mamm.” Michelle put a stack of dry plates into the cupboard.
“Jah,” Amy said with regret in her tone. “But I am certain that Mom doesn’t want anything but a casual friendship with him. Besides, Dad hasn’t even been gone a year, so in my opinion, Monroe shouldn’t be trying to worm his way into our mother’s life.”
Sylvia gave a decisive nod. “Agreed.”
When the last dish was done, Sylvia felt the need for some fresh air. “Think I’ll slip into my boots and outer apparel and take a little walk outside in the snow. Do either of you care to join me?”
“I’ll pass on that idea. I’d like to spend some time with Jared, and by now Mom may have set some games out for us all to play,” Amy replied.
“It’s too cold outside for me.” Michelle rubbed her arms briskly. “Just thinking about going out in the snow makes me feel chilly.”
“Okay then, I’ll join you in the dining room after I come back inside.”
Sylvia went out to the utility room, where everyone in the family kept their boots, along with jackets, sweaters, and shawls. After taking a seat on a folding chair to slip into her boots, she wrapped a heavy shawl around her shoulders, put on a pair of woolen gloves, and went out the back door.
Although it wasn’t snowing at the moment, the air was colder than Sylvia expected. Unfazed by it, however, she tromped through the snow, reliving the days when she and her siblings had been children. They’d spent many happy days in this yard, frolicking in the winter snow; jumping through piles of leaves in the fall; flying kites in the field behind their house on windy spring days; and chasing after fireflies on hot, humid summer evenings. Oh, how Sylvia missed those carefree days, when her biggest worry was who would be the first one up to bat whenever they got a game of baseball going.
Will my children have fond childhood memories when they grow up? Sylvia wondered. When Rachel and Allen are both old enough to be given the freedom to roam around the yard by themselves, will they find things to do that’ll leave them with good memories?
Sylvia worried that not having a father around to help in their upbringing and take them on fun outings might hamper what she’d hoped would be a normal childhood for them. Even if she didn’t feel like doing anything just for fun, Sylvia promised herself that she would make every effort to spend quality time with Allen and Rachel in hopes of giving them some joyful memories.
Sylvia continued her trek through the backyard and made her way around to the front of the house. She looked in the window and saw Monroe sitting in Dad’s old chair as he chatted with Ezekiel. It was difficult seeing this fellow trying to move in on her family.
I wish Monroe would leave soon. Doesn’t he realize he’s cutting into our family time? Sylvia tightened her scarf with her gloved hands. Ezekiel seems to be conducting himself in a pleasant manner with Monroe. But he’s a minister now, so I guess he has to be nice and do the right thing with everyone he meets. I hope my sister is right about Mom only wanting to befriends with Monroe and nothing more. I couldn’t stand the idea of him moving in and trying to take Dad’s place.
Not quite ready to go back inside yet, she walked down the driveway to check for any messages they may have waiting in the phone shed.
After stepping into the small, cold wooden building, she saw the green light flashing on their answering machine. She took a seat on the icy metal chair and clicked the button.
“Hello, Sylvia, it’s Selma. I’m calling to see how you and the children are doing and to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
Tears sprang to Sylvia’s eyes at the sound of Toby’s mother’s voice. She hadn’t heard from her in-laws in nearly a month and had wondered how they were doing. She’d been meaning to call them, but the busyness of getting ready for Ezekiel and his family’s arrival and helping Mom and Amy with holiday baking had taken up much of Sylvia’s time. Of course, that was no excuse. Wayne and Selma were Allen and Rachel’s paternal grandparents, and they had a right to know how their grandchildren were doing.
After Sylvia listened to the rest of her mother-in-law’s message, she dialed the number and left a response, suggesting that they come down from their home in Mifflin County sometime this spring to see the children. Sylvia also mentioned how much Rachel and Allen had grown.
When Sylvia left the phone shed, she glanced across the road and stood staring at the twinkling colored lights draped around their neighbors’ front window. They also had a colorful wreath on the front door.
I wonder why so many English folks feel the need to decorate their homes at Christmas. Is it their way of celebrating the birth of Christ, or do they do it because they enjoy looking at the colored lights?
Sylvia hadn’t seen much of Virginia and Earl Martin since the weather had turned cold. During the summer, and into the fall, she’d seen Virginia out on her front porch many times. Earl’s truck sat parked in the driveway out front, but no other vehicles were in sight. Apparently, the Martins had no company today, or perhaps they had gone somewhere to celebrate Christmas. Since their detached garage was around back, Sylvia had no way of knowing if Virginia’s car was there or not.
Sylvia turned back toward the house. I would have been happier if Mom had asked the Martins to join us for dessert, or even Christmas dinner, then inviting Monroe to sit at our table. If he doesn’t leave soon, I may do like Henry and retreat to my room with Allen and Rachel.
Virginia’s gaze went from her husband, sleeping in his recliner, to the small Christmas tree Earl had bought from a local tree farm three days ago. They’d decided to go smaller than the past years when they had picked out a much larger tree together. For some reason, Earl didn’t want a big tree this year. Except for the lights he’d put in the front window at her suggestion, he didn’t seem to be in a festive mood.
She flipped her fingers through the ends of her bangs. But that’s okay, since I’m not excited about the holiday this year either. In fact, I feel kinda empty inside.
A loud snore from Earl brought Virginia out of her thoughts. From where she sat on the couch, her eyes began to water and burn from allergies. She’d dealt with this sometimes when they’d brought a live tree into the house.
She leaned forward and yanked a tissue from the box sitting on the coffee table. I’m pretty sure that silly little fir is the problem. It sat on a small table across the room with pretty red-and-green fabric draped around its base. She had decorated the tree with colored lights and hung a few small ornaments from the boughs.
Virginia yawned and massaged her leg where it had started to throb. She shifted on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, while Earl continued to sleep like a baby.
In truth, for Virginia, Christmas was nothing special—just another boring holiday, since it was just her and Earl. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying. Family. I wish we had some family to share the holiday with and buy gifts for. She pressed her palms against her cheeks. Maybe I deserve the empty feeling I have inside. Could be that a woman like me isn’t worthy of being happy and fulfilled. No man but Earl has ever really cared about me, and sometimes I’m not even sure how he really feels.