The Decision (8 page)

Grandma frowned and poured herself more water. “I don’t want to go to the doctor. They poke and prod too much. Maybe I should see Leah and get my feet worked on.”

Elaine lifted her shoulders with hands palms up. “If you see the doctor first and he doesn’t find anything beyond the scope of Leah’s abilities, then I’m in agreement with you letting her work on your feet.”

Grandma folded her arms in a stubborn pose. “I’ll think about it.” Then she quickly unfolded her arms and gestured to the kitchen window. “Right now, we need to greet our guests, because the tour bus has pulled in.”

A
fter Sharon Sullivan, the tour guide, had introduced Edna and Elaine to the people who’d come for dinner, Edna smiled and said, “I hope you’re all hungerich, because there’s enough food here for everyone to have seconds and maybe even thirds.”

“What does
hungerich
mean?” a young woman who wore her hair in a ponytail questioned.

“Oops!” Edna felt her cheeks warm, embarrassed by her slip of the tongue. “
Hungerich
is the Pennsylvania-Dutch word for
hungry
, which is what I really meant to say.” She glanced at Elaine to see her reaction, but she had just placed bowls of mashed potatoes on both tables and made no comment.

Edna quickly followed with the gravy, and then she set a bowl of creamed corn beside it. When everything had been put on both tables—potatoes, gravy, corn, fried chicken, roast beef, bread, and pickles, she returned to the kitchen to get some butter and jam. Edna didn’t know why she felt so rattled this evening, but her hands were damp with perspiration, and her stomach did little flip-flops, like it used to when she’d first started hosting dinners for tour groups and was unsure of herself. She’d been doing this for a good many years now, so there was no reason to feel apprehensive or jittery. Maybe it was too soon to be doing this. It would be a week tomorrow since Lloyd had died. Maybe Edna was wrong in thinking she needed to stay busy in order to deal with her loss. Perhaps she shouldn’t have worried about trying to fulfill her obligation to the tour group. Well, it was too late for speculations. The people were here now, and she’d make it through the evening somehow.

“That’s strange,” Edna muttered when she discovered there was no butter on the counter. She was sure she’d taken two sticks of butter from the refrigerator earlier and put them on butter dishes, along with knives.
Maybe Elaine took it into the other room and I didn’t see it there
.

Edna opened the refrigerator and removed the strawberry jam Elaine had bought the other day. After she’d divided the jam into two dishes, she took them to the dining room and placed one on each table. Scanning the length of both tables, she saw no sign of the butter, which meant that Elaine had not brought them in.
That’s so odd. I wonder what happened to them
.

Feeling even more flustered, Edna headed back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator again, thinking she might have just thought she had taken the butter out earlier.

“What are you looking for, Grandma?”

Edna jumped. She hadn’t realized Elaine had come into the room. “I’m searching for the
budder
. I was sure I had set the dishes on the kitchen counter, but now they are nowhere to be found.”

“I haven’t seen the butter,” Elaine said. “They are probably still in the refrigerator.”

“No, they’re not.” Edna shook her head vigorously. “Come see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“It isn’t that I don’t believe you, Grandma.” Elaine moved across the room. “I just can’t think of anywhere else the butter would be.”

Edna moved aside and let Elaine look over the contents of the refrigerator. A few seconds later, Elaine stepped back and said, “You’re right, there’s no butter in there. Do you remember taking them out of the refrigerator?”

“I—I thought I did.” At the moment, Edna wasn’t sure about anything. To make matters worse, she was beginning to feel woozy, like she had the other day.

Elaine clasped Edna’s arm. “You look pale, Grandma. Are you feeling
grank
?”

“Well, I…” Edna grabbed the back of a chair for support, fearful that she might topple over. “I don’t think I’m sick, but I do feel a bit light-headed.”

“Sit down and put your head between your knees,” Elaine instructed, helping Edna into a chair. “Are you feeling the way you did when Leah was here the other day?”

Edna lowered her head. “Jah, but I felt better after I’d had something to eat.”

“I’ll fix you a plate of food right now and see if that helps. If not, then it might be best if you go to your room and lie down.”

“I’m not going to bed and leave you here to wait on all those people by yourself.”

“I’m sure I can manage.”

“You might make it through, but then you’d be more exhausted then I am right now. I’m sure that once I’ve had something to eat, I’ll be fine,” Edna insisted.

“As you wish.” Elaine took a plate from the cupboard and dished up some potatoes, corn, and gravy that had been keeping warm on the stove. Then she took a piece of chicken from the oven and added that to the plate. “Here you go, Grandma.” She set the food on the table in front of Edna, along with a knife and fork.

Edna offered a brief silent prayer and quickly ate a piece of chicken. “Yum. This tastes as good as it looks. I hope our guests are enjoying their meal.”

“I’m sure they are, Grandma, but right now, I am more worried about you.”

Edna ate a few bites of potatoes and flapped her hand. “I’m fine. Feeling better already, but I would like a glass of water.”

“I’ll get it.” Elaine opened the cupboard where the glasses were kept, but instead of removing a glass and turning on the water, she lifted out the butter dishes and held them toward Edna. “It looks as though you may have accidentally put these in the cupboard when you took down the glasses to set the table for our guests.”

Edna gasped and covered her mouth. “Ach, could I really have done something so
dumm
?”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Elaine said, shaking her head. “You’ve been a little absentminded since Grandpa died, but that’s perfectly understandable.” She started toward the other room with the butter, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll take care of things in there while you finish what’s on your plate.”

Edna didn’t argue. Her stomach seemed to appreciate the food, as did the rest of her body. In fact, with each bite she took, she felt her strength returning.
It’s a simple matter, really. Just don’t go too long without eating
.

Elaine hurried into the other room. After she’d placed the butter dishes on the tables, she checked on the vegetable bowls and meat platters to see if any were empty.

“Yuk! What did I just bite into?” A freckle-faced boy crinkled his nose and spit something out of his mouth. “What was that in my mashed potatoes?”

Elaine hurried over to the table, perspiration dripping down the back of her neck. She knew one thing: her bed would never feel better than when she crawled under those covers tonight.
We shouldn’t have hosted this dinner. It would have been better to have a nice quiet Friday evening, just me and Grandma
.

As Elaine looked at what the boy held in his hand, she let out a breath of relief. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, “but I think it’s just a seasoned chicken cube that must have gotten into the potatoes by mistake. You didn’t break a tooth on it, did you?”

He shook his head. “Naw, I’m fine. Just freaked me out when I bit into it.”

Elaine said a silent prayer.
Please help us get through the rest of this evening without any more mishaps
.

Seeing that the gravy was the only item that seemed to be getting low, Elaine paused to answer a few questions from an elderly woman, and then she picked up the gravy bowls and went back to the kitchen.

“Are you doing okay, Grandma? Do you need something more to eat?” she asked, noting that Grandma’s plate was empty.

“No, I’m fine.” Grandma wiped her hands on a napkin. “I feel much better now.” She gestured to the chair beside her. “Why don’t you have something to eat, and I’ll go check on our visitors?”

Elaine shook her head. “That’s okay. I’m not hungry right now.” Usually she and Grandma waited until their guests had gone home to eat their supper. But at least one of them needed to get back in the other room to make sure the food was being passed around for a second time and then to bring in the pies for dessert. “Why don’t you stay here and relax?” she suggested. “I’ll take care of everything else that needs to be done.” Elaine kept the mashed potato incident to herself, not wanting to upset Grandma further.

Grandma gave a stubborn shake of her head. “We always work together as a team.”

“I know, but if you need to rest, I can manage by myself this time.” Even though Grandma had said she was feeling better, she still looked pale, and Grandma’s droopy eyelids betrayed her exhaustion.

“I won’t hear of it.” Grandma pushed away from the table and put her dishes in the sink. “Is it time to take the pies in yet?”

“Not quite. I need to make sure everyone has all the meat and vegetables they want, and then I’ll clear away the dishes.”

“That will go quicker if we both do it.” Walking slowly, Grandma left the kitchen. Elaine followed.

While their guests finished eating, Elaine and Grandma answered more questions about the Amish way of life, and then they excused themselves to clear away the dishes and bring in the desserts.

“I’ll carry the sour-cream peach pies I made, and you can take the strawberry-rhubarb ones that you baked,” Grandma told Elaine.

Just inside the kitchen, Elaine paused. “Actually, Grandma, you made chocolate–peanut butter pies this morning.”

“Now that I think of it, I had wanted to make the peach pies, but since there are no ripe peaches on our trees yet, I changed my mind and made chocolate–peanut butter instead. Of course, I could have used some of our frozen peaches.” Grandma nudged Elaine’s arm. “Well, don’t dawdle, now. You’d better get busy.”

“Okay,” Elaine replied, feeling suddenly like she was a young girl again and Grandma was completely in charge. Grandma had never been bossy, but she’d always let Elaine know that she was the one to make the final decision on things. Out of love and respect, Elaine had never questioned Grandma’s authority.

They’d just stepped into the other room with the pies when Elaine heard a shrill screech, followed by, “Pretty bird…pretty bird… Where’s the pie? Where’s the pie?”

“Why, there must be a parrot somewhere in the house,” the elderly woman who’d asked a question before said.

“Millie’s my grandma’s parakeet,” Elaine explained.

Grandma’s once pale face colored to a bright pink. “Oh dear, I must have forgotten to cover Millie’s cage before everyone got here.” She placed one of the chocolate–peanut butter pies on the first table and was approaching the second table when she tripped on one of their throw rugs and the pie fell on the floor. “Oh no!” she gasped, tears of obvious embarrassment running down her cheeks. “How clumsy of me. I—I’d better get something to clean up this mess.” She hurried back to the kitchen, walking faster than she had all evening.

Elaine quickly followed. “It’s okay, Grandma. I’ll clean up in the other room. Why don’t you stay in the kitchen and rest awhile longer?”

“I don’t need to rest.” Grandma shook her head determinedly. “I feel like such a
dappich naar
, tripping like that.”

“You’re not a clumsy fool. An accident like that could have happened to anyone.” Elaine motioned to a chair at the table. “Please sit and relax. After I’ve cleaned up the floor, I’ll bring in that extra pie we baked earlier today.”

Grandma sighed heavily and sank into a chair. “Whatever you say. I do feel like I need to sit awhile.”

Elaine grabbed a large spatula and a serving tray to put the remains of the pie on, as well as a bucket and mop to clean the floor. Then she rushed back to the dining room.

“Let me help you with that,” Sharon, the tour guide, said when Elaine knelt on the floor.

“My grandmother isn’t quite herself tonight, and she feels terrible about this,” Elaine explained as the two of them began to clean up the pie. “You see, my grandfather died just a week ago, and—”

Sharon’s eyes widened. “Oh dear, I hadn’t heard. Why didn’t you call and cancel this dinner?”

“I suggested that to Grandma, but she insisted on carrying through. And since she’d already scheduled it with you, Grandma didn’t think it would be right to back out at the last minute.”

“I would have made some other arrangements for this group, and I won’t schedule any more dinners here for at least a month, or until you let me know that you’re ready,” Sharon was quick to say. “You and Edna need time to grieve, and I’m so very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Elaine blinked against tears threatening to spill over. She wished she had tried harder to talk Grandma out of hosting this meal or at the very least taken Priscilla and Leah up on their offer to help. The way Grandma had been acting this evening was proof that she wasn’t ready to entertain yet.

I wonder if Leah’s concerns about Grandma are founded
, Elaine thought as she headed back to the kitchen with the remains of the chocolate–peanut butter pie.
She does seem quite forgetful, not to mention how pale and woozy she got earlier. I think when I see Leah at church this Sunday, I’ll ask her to have a talk with Grandma about going to the doctor
. Grandma put a lot of faith in Leah’s foot doctoring, so she might be more willing to listen to her than Elaine. At least Elaine hoped that would be the case, because if Grandma refused to see their doctor, then Elaine might ask if he would be willing to make a house call. One thing was for certain, she wanted to make sure Grandma was okay.