Would Mamm ever see her as anything but her little girl who needed constant supervision?
As she neared the house she saw Seth walking toward his workshop. He must be a skilled wood-carver indeed to be able to make chess sets gut enough to market. It was tempting to follow him and ask to see his work. But for now she would keep to the house.
She entered through the mudroom door and let Edna know she was ready for a tour. As her friend took her through the Beiler home, Phoebe looked closely at everything, trying to gain some understanding of the Beiler familye from their environment.
The living room had the same stark feel as the kitchen, though there were some periodicals by one of the recliners and an unfinished puzzle on a card table that had been pushed into one corner of the room.
She discovered that the door to the basement stairs was located at the front end of the hall. Edna paused only long enough to point it out but led her past it.
There were two bedrooms on this floor. Seth, as man of the house, occupied the larger. The one next to the basement stairs had been turned into an office. Both rooms were neat and orderly, with nothing out of place. In the bedroom, the bed was perfectly made and everything in the room was precisely placed or put away. There was a windup clock and a Bible on his bedside table. The large braided rug on the floor beside his bed was mostly shades of brown with a little navy blue scattered in. There were no feminine touches in the room to indicate he’d ever shared this room with a fraa. How long had he been a widower?
In the office the papers on the desk were in neat piles and a stapler was precisely lined up with the edge of the desk. A calendar hung on the wall, and this one reflected the actual date. Next to the calendar was a nondescript wall clock. An extra chair was placed directly in front of the desk and a four-drawer file cabinet stood behind it. Again there was nothing present that didn’t serve a practical purpose.
Seeing these two rooms told her a lot about the man who inhabited them.
Next Edna led her up to the second floor. There were five bedrooms up there. The rooms were fairly similar with only a few decorative touches such as the arrangement of the beds, the colors of the quilts and the items on the dresser to differentiate them.
Edna pointed to a doorway on the far end of the landing. “That’s a set of stairs that leads to the attic. You shouldn’t have a need to go up there while you’re here.” She headed back toward the stairs. “Kum, I’ll show you the basement now.”
When they finally finished the tour and made it back to the main floor, Phoebe could hear the sound of someone moving about in the kitchen. Had Seth returned for something?
She immediately headed in that direction then stopped when she realized it wasn’t Seth but a younger male—one of Seth’s siblings she guessed.
Edna stepped forward to make the introductions. “Phoebe, this is Mark, one of Seth’s brieder. Mark, this is my friend Phoebe who’s going to be helping out here for a few weeks until my arm heals.”
So this was the bruder who was doing an apprenticeship with a furniture maker. She could see some resemblance to Seth. The same light-colored hair, though Mark’s tended toward sandy rather than the warmer oak of Seth’s. He was also more compactly built than Seth but he was still taller than her.
Mark’s eyes had widened. “But you’re young.”
Phoebe frowned at the unexpected reaction. “I’m twenty-one,” she said indignantly. Was this youngie questioning her ability to take care of their household?
A blotchy red crept up his neck into his cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, Seth said you were Edna’s age.”
Phoebe cast a quick look Edna’s way.
The older woman merely shrugged. “It sounds like a misunderstanding to me. I merely said you were my friend—we didn’t discuss your age.”
Phoebe had a feeling Edna was enjoying the mix-up. Giving her friend a stern look, she turned back to Mark. “Well, whatever the case, I hope you’re not too disappointed.”
“Nee. And welcome to our home.”
“Danke. So you’re the one who’s apprenticed to a woodworker and also on rumspringa, is that right?” She noticed he hadn’t yet removed his coat.
“Jah.” His head tilted slightly. “You know a lot about me.”
“I asked Edna about all of you. But I don’t really know you. For instance, what’s your favorite food and what’s your least favorite, what do you like to do and what don’t you like to do.”
The boy grinned. “Those are easy. My favorite food is pancakes and syrup, my least favorite is Daniel’s version of chicken stew. The thing I most like to do is play volleyball with the others in my rumspringa group and my least favorite thing to do is take care of laundry.” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s what Seth put me in charge of before Edna came.”
Phoebe hid a grin. “Well, that’s quite a list. And I feel like I know you better already.”
Mark poured up a glass of water and took several deep swallows. Then he moved to the corkboard, studied the notes there and snagged one of them. He held it up for Phoebe to see. “I’m off to take care of some chores. I look forward to seeing you again at supper.” Then his grin turned mischievous. “Your cooking has got to be better than my brieder’s.” And with that he was out the door.
Phoebe turned around to face Edna. “Speaking of supper, I should get busy with that.”
Edna raised an eyebrow. “Do you have any idea of what you want to cook?”
Phoebe paused at that. She’d never been in charge of planning a meal before, she’d merely helped prepare some of the ingredients while Mamm, and lately Rhoda, did the planning and directing. She mentally went over what she’d seen in the pantry and refrigerator.
Her mind went blank for a moment and she met Edna’s gaze. “Any suggestions?”
Edna shrugged. “You’re in charge.”
She was in charge. Words she’d never heard before.
What now?
Chapter 8
Phoebe straightened and went to the pantry. She saw a box of noodles there and it gave her a glimmer of an idea. She quickly moved to the freezer where she found some chicken and the refrigerator where there was a large block of cheese. “I think I’ll make Mamm’s cheesy noodle and chicken casserole.” It was something she’d watched Mamm prepare dozens of times and was one of the few recipes she felt she could handle from memory with perhaps just a little help from Edna.
“That sounds wonderful gut. What about dessert?”
Phoebe chewed her lip while she considered her options. Cookies she could handle, but she didn’t think a batch of snickerdoodles was a proper dessert for six men and growing boys. When it came to cakes and pies, however, she was a total klutz. Anytime she’d tried to bake one on her own she’d met with less-than-successful, sometimes disastrous, results. “I’m afraid I’m not so gut with dessert,” she finally admitted. “And I don’t do well with following written recipes.” It was always mortifying to own up to her limited reading skills. But Edna was already familiar with this particular failing.
“I can talk you through it.” Edna gave her an encouraging smile. “I think we should make a peach cobbler tonight. Why don’t you go down to the basement and fetch a couple of jars of canned peaches so we’ll have them when it comes time?”
As Phoebe descended the basement stairs she felt some of her confidence return. That was one of the things she liked about Edna. The widow might have a somewhat tart personality but she had a gut heart. When Phoebe had trouble with something, Edna never looked at her like she was slow-witted, never told her whatever the task was should be easy or that she only had to try harder. Edna just calmly offered to help, which usually meant talking Phoebe through it without being condescending or pushing her aside to do it herself.
