Jean scanned the kitchen. “How about putting away the dishes. They're in the boxes on the table.” Nodding at an upper cabinet to the right of the sink, she said. “Put them in that cupboard.”
Will and Drew Prosser walked through the door, a bed frame balanced on their shoulders. “Jean, you said Laurel's things went in the upstairs east bedroom, right?” Will asked.
“Uh-huh.”
The excitement of being in their home caught hold of Laurel. She wanted to see her room. “Can I go up and take a quick look?”
Wearing an understanding smile, Jean nodded.
Laurel followed the men up the stairs and into her room. Her box spring and mattress were resting on their sides against a wall.
“Let's set up this bed before we get her bureau,” Will said. He looked at Laurel. “Where do you want it?”
“How about next to the chimney? That way I'll be closer to the heat during the winter.”
“Good thinking,” Drew said.
After putting the bed together, the men left, and Laurel was alone. She could hear Brian's chatter from his room directly across from hers. Sitting on the bed, she was happy to discover she could still see outside.
After awhile she joined her mother in the kitchen and went to work unpacking dishes and placing them in the cupboard. The men kept moving past them, carrying chairs, tables, dressers, rockers, lamps, and other odds and ends. When they were finished, they filed out.
Will stood in the kitchen, watching Jean and Laurel. “It's coming together.”
“It is,” Jean said with a weary but satisfied smile.
“We've got to get the icebox and washing machine. Won't be gone long. When we get back, we'll be hungry,” he added with a grin.
“I'll get supper on. It'll be ready by the time you return.” Jean gave Will a peck on the cheek. “Is the crib up?”
“Yep. It's in our room.”
“Good. Susie's cranky and tired of being trapped in her highchair. I'll put her down for a nap.” She laid a hand on her husband's arm. “Thank you.”
Giving Jean a quick hug, Will headed outside.
Jean lay Susie in her crib and returned to the kitchen. Susie's crying could be heard coming from the bedroom. Dropping into a chair at the table, Jean rested her face in her hand. “She'll fall asleep soon.”
“I made coffee,” Laurel said. “Would you like some?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
Laurel filled a cup and handed it to her mother, then filled another. Sitting across from her, Laurel gazed around the room. “The kitchen's nearly done. I like it. It already feels homey.”
Jean sipped. “I like it, too, especially the light. I've never had a kitchen with two windows in it.” Setting her cup on the table in front of her, she asked, “Did Brian and Luke go with your father?”
“Yes. In fact, the last time I saw Brian he was on Adam's shoulders. He likes Adam.”
“He's a nice young man. I'm sorry to say I misjudged him at first.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, at first he didn't seem to have much practicality or resourcefulness. He seemed shallow. But after the flood and going after that little girl the way he did—well, not everyone would have done that.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“And the way he's helped around here. He's a hard worker, and he acts like he really cares for Brian and the rest of us. He just seems to be a real nice young man.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Laurel said, not at all certain she agreed.
“I better get to that supper,” Jean said, pushing herself to her feet. “Could you finish unpacking that last box while I see to the food?”
Laurel took another drink of coffee, stood, and opened the box. She lifted out a mixing bowl and unwrapped it. Running a hand along the outside of the well-used glazed earthenware, she said, “It's good to see these dishes again. Seems like years since we packed them.” Laurel smiled softly. “I remember thinking life would never be right again.” She dipped the bowl into water, rinsed it, then dried it. “Things have a way of changing.”
By the time the men returned, the kitchen was in order and chicken simmered on the stove. While Drew and Robert moved the gas washing machine onto the back porch, Will and Adam lugged in the icebox, settling it against an outside kitchen wall.
“Mmm, something sure smells good,” Will said. “What's for supper?”
Standing on tiptoe, Brian tried to peer into the pot on the stove. “What's cooking?”
Jean swirled the hot stew, then dipped out a little so Brian could see. “Chicken and dumplings. I just have to add the dumplings.” After dropping in balls of dough, she replaced the lid. Looking at the men, she asked, “You're staying for supper, aren't you?”
“I'd like to, but Norma's expectin' me,” Drew said. “Thanks much.”
“I don't think Adele would appreciate it much if I couldn't make it home for supper.” Tom smiled. “But thanks.” He headed for the back door. “We'll probably drop by tomorrow.”
“All right,” Will said. “Thanks for all your help.”
