“Hi, Cynthia,” said Alice. “Did you have a good trip?”
“Not bad, Aunt Alice.” She now gave Alice a hug. “I feel like I’ve come home.”
Louise smiled. “That is what we wanted to hear, honey. Let me help you get your things to my room. Jane is just starting some pumpkin soup.”
“Ooh, sounds lovely.”
“I don’t know why Louise seems so resistant to the idea of your dating Mark,” Jane said to Alice when Louise and Cynthia were out of earshot.
“We’re not dating, Jane.” Alice watched as her sister stirred the just simmering pot.
“Okay, whatever you want to call it.” Jane replaced the lid on the pot and turned the flame a bit lower. “I just don’t know why she keeps insisting upon throwing a wet blanket on everything.”
Alice considered this. “I think she’s just trying to protect me.”
“Protect you?” Jane frowned as she removed a loaf of pumpernickel bread from the bread drawer.
“I haven’t thought about it for ages, but Louise was quite indignant when Mark dumped me almost forty years ago. Maybe she’s afraid it will happen again.”
“He dumped you?”
“Well, it probably was more of a mutual parting of ways, but I didn’t see it like that at the time. We had a disagreement over religion, and then he and Father didn’t hit it off. Plus he couldn’t accept my need to live in Acorn Hill. We had a lot of differences.”
Jane nodded.
“I’ll bet that Louise remembers how hurt I was and just wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“You’re probably right, Alice.” Jane looked truly repentant. “There I go, assuming the worst about my dear sister again. When will I ever learn?”
“You were just protecting me, too.” Alice smiled. “How sweet to have two sisters looking out for my best interests.”
“It’s because we love you.”
“Thanks,” said Alice as she gave Jane a hug. “Now what can I do to help?”
“The soup’s going to take a half hour more. I thought we’d make a green salad and slice up that bread and—”
“Yoo-hoo,” called Ethel from the back porch, “anybody home?”
“Come in,” called Alice.
“Did I see Cynthia arrive a little while ago?”
“You did,” said Jane. “She and Louise went upstairs to get her settled.”
“What is that lovely smell?” asked Ethel, peering curiously at the big soup pot.
“That’s pumpkin soup,” said Alice.
“Would you like to join us for lunch?” asked Jane. “It might be a bit crowded, eating in the kitchen, but if you don’t mind getting cozy—”
“I don’t understand why you think you must eat in the kitchen when you have guests staying at the inn,” said Ethel.
“Sometimes we do eat in the dining room, but we try to avoid doing so, particularly at lunchtime,” explained Alice, not for the first time. “Our guests use the living room and would notice us taking a meal in there. It would be awkward for everyone.”
“That’s right,” said Jane. “Already we’ve been asked ‘what’s cooking?’ more times than I care to recall.”
Ethel lifted the lid and took a peek at the soup. “Pumpkin soup? I don’t believe I’ve ever had that.”
“It’s a bit like squash soup,” said Jane. “It won’t be ready for another thirty minutes or so.”
“That’s fine by me,” said Ethel. “I had a late breakfast anyway. I met Lloyd and gave him a hand with the Chamber booth. Oh, you girls should see it. It looks grand.”
“I did see it, Auntie,” said Alice as she washed a big red tomato. “It’s impressive.”
“Are you girls coming to the Chamber’s chili feed tonight?” she asked.
“The Chamber’s proceeds are going toward the Kitchen Project, correct?” asked Jane.
Ethel nodded, causing her chins to jiggle. “That’s right. Remember, Grace Chapel helps out with the Kitchen Project, too, mostly during the holidays. Lloyd said this year might be even harder than usual for some folks. Last year there were only about a dozen families who asked for assistance with groceries, but he expects that to double or triple this year, what with the layoffs at the factory in Potterston.”
“Oh my,” said Alice. “I hope we can raise a lot of money with the festival.”
“I’m praying that we’ll have lots of out-of-towners come,” said Jane as she sliced mushrooms.
“With deep pockets and generous hearts,” added Alice as she washed a green pepper.
“Alice’s—uh—friend is coming,” said Jane. “Remember the veterinarian?”
“The one that Clara thinks walks on water?” said Ethel. “Of course.” She narrowed her eyes slightly as she studied Alice. “Are you getting involved with him, Alice?”
“Involved?” Alice cut the green pepper in half and began cleaning out the seeds. “He’s just a friend who’s interested in possibly relocating his practice in Acorn Hill.”
“I thought that he treated elephants and penguins and such,” said Ethel.
“That’s been his focus, but he’s considering a practice with small animals as a way of moving into retirement.”
“Oh.” Ethel eyed the pumpernickel loaf. “Would you like me to slice that for you, Jane?”
“Sure. I thought nice hearty slices would be good. About an inch. Then we’ll warm it in the oven.”
“Hello, Aunt Ethel,” said Cynthia. “I thought I heard your voice.”
“Well, Cynthia,” said Ethel as she set down the knife and opened her arms wide, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Cynthia hugged her great aunt and looked around the kitchen. “Oh, it’s so good to be here.”
“Been working hard?” asked Jane as she handed her niece a carrot stick.
Cynthia nodded and took a bite. “I’m getting ready to go to the international book convention again, but there’s so much to get done first.”
“Tough work,” said Jane with a friendly tone of sarcasm, “jetting off to Frankfurt every fall.”
“Yes, and just in time for Oktoberfest too.”
“Do you get to do any sightseeing?” asked Alice.
“Last year we took a day trip down the Rhine. It was very pretty.”
“Humph,” said Ethel. “There are plenty of places in the good old USA to see. Besides, I’ve heard that international travel is getting more and more dangerous.”
“Oh, Aunt Ethel,” said Jane. “I’m sure more people get killed driving on our freeways than flying overseas these days.”
“That’s statistically true,” said Alice. “I’ve heard that flying has never been safer.”
Soon the five women sat down at the kitchen table, and elbow-to-elbow they bowed their heads and thanked God, not only for the good food, but also for their loving family. “And bless all the booths and activities of the Fall Festival this weekend,” said Alice. “And help us to raise enough money to help anyone in need and to make Acorn Hill a better place for everyone to live. Amen.”
“Amen,” echoed Ethel as she rubbed her hands together. “Now, let’s see what on earth this pumpkin soup tastes like.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cynthia convinced her mother and her aunts to allow her to join them for their journal reading session that evening after the chili feed.
“Only if you promise not to breathe a word of this to Aunt Ethel,” said Jane.
“It’s not that we’re trying to exclude her,” said Alice. “But there are some things in here that aren’t terribly flattering to her father.”
“I know,” said Cynthia. “Mom told me a little about it.”
Alice opened the journal and filled in Cynthia on how Daniel had given his life to God in the last entry. “It was really beautiful about how the full moon rose and lit his way home afterward,” she said. Then she began to read.
November 30, 1926. I officially joined Mr. Dolton’s church last Sunday. I had visi
ted three times before I made the commitment, but it seems the right thing to do. Naturally, Mr. Dolton was pleased and he gave me a book to read called BEING A SERVANT IN GOD’S KINGDOM. Naturally Gladys and my father do not know what to make of me. “Why do you want to go traipsing off to church, boy,” my father asked last Sunday, “if no one’s making you?” I told him that God makes me want to go, but he just scratched his head and told me I was starting to act like my mother. I continue to stay in my bale room above the barn. So far I have not been too cold at night, but I pile on the blankets. I actually think it may be warmer than my old room upstairs where I often found ice on the inside of my window during winter. I must say I do enjoy my privacy and I feel certain that my father and Gladys do not miss my presence in the house. Gladys seems to have settled down some and does not complain so much about her “delicate condition.” However she does not appear to like housework much and likes cooking even less. I try to help out when I can, but sometimes I think it is better simply to stay out of her way. I do pray for my father and Gladys now. I am not sure that it is doing them any good, but it does make me feel better.
“That is the truth,” said Louise. “I think that the only reason I pray sometimes is to make myself feel better.”
“But look what happened when Alice prayed last week,” Jane reminded them. “God helped her to figure out Vera’s mystery illness.”
“Mom told me about that,” said Cynthia. “That was amazing, Aunt Alice.”
Alice smiled and looked back at the journal. “Shall I read another? It looks like the next one wraps up the year.” She flipped through the remaining pages. “And the entries are less frequent after that.”
They all agreed to finish up Daniel’s 1926.
December 25, 1926. Christmas Day. For the first time in my life I appreciate this holiday for what it is truly meant to be. Even though I am home alone, since Gladys talked my father into taking her to her parents’ home to visit, I do not feel the least bit lonely. They did invite me to go, but I could tell from Gladys’s description that her parents have a very small home and my presence would only contribute to the overcrowding there. This was perfectly fine with me, as I wanted to attend the candlelight service at church last night anyway. I must say that it was the most glorious event I have ever participated in. Indeed, I tried not to let anyone see that it brought tears to my eyes. I thought of how much my mother would have appreciated a service like that, and then I felt the strongest sensation that she was looking down from heaven and watching me. It was as if I could even feel the warmth of her smile. This was a wonderful Christmas present to me. Afterward, Mr. Dolton asked me what my family was doing for Christmas and when I told him, he insisted upon taking me home with him and his wife that very evening. I thanked him for his kindness but explained that I needed to return to the farm to tend to the animals. Then Mrs. Dolton insisted that I must join them for Christmas dinner. I plan to do this at two o’clock this afternoon and I am sure I will enjoy a fine time with them, but I have also relished this quiet day of simply reading the Bible, praying and meditating, and being on my own in the house. Still, I suspect that it is not good to spend too much time on one’s own. I do not want to become a hermit. I even decided to give my father and Gladys a Christmas present of sorts. I got up early and after tending to the livestock, I spent a good part of the morning cleaning and scrubbing the house. I filled the wood box and even washed the window above the sink. I am not sure if they will notice or even appreciate my efforts, but it did fill my heart with joy. I finished reading the book that Mr. Dolton gave me. I am learning how important it is to have a servant’s heart, although I feel certain it will take me my lifetime to figure that out.
“That sounds just like Grandfather,” said Cynthia. “So wise and humble. It’s hard to believe he was only sixteen at the time.”
“I think some people are just more naturally that way,” said Jane. “Take our own Alice here.”
Alice waved her hand as if to brush away the compliment. “If I appear humble, it’s probably only because I make more mistakes than the rest of you. And as far as wisdom goes … well, I hope we all get a little wiser with each passing year.”
“That is right,” said Louise. “There must be some benefit to the gray hair and the aching joints.” She stood and stretched. “If you will excuse me, dears, I think I will take my weary old self to bed.”
The next morning, the house was abuzz with guests making plans for the day. The sun was out and the air was crisp and everyone was enthusiastic about the Fall Festival.
“It’s such a wonderful idea to have a fair like this in the autumn,” said Mrs. Anderson. She and her sister had driven down from Meadville to enjoy the weekend. “We plan to shop until we drop today.”
“Good for you,” said Louise. “You know all the proceeds from the festival will be going to local charities.”
“All the better,” said Mrs. Anderson. “Do you think it’s too soon to head out?”
“Not really,” said Alice. “The booths are supposed to start opening up at nine.”
By ten o’clock all the guests had departed, as had Louise and Cynthia. Jane and Alice were finishing cleaning up the kitchen.
“Is that what you’re wearing today?” Jane asked Alice as she closed the dishwasher.
“I thought so.” Alice looked down at her off-duty uniform of blue jeans, sweatshirt and tennis shoes. “Is it bad?”
“It’s okay for cleaning the kitchen or maybe walking with Vera.” One of Jane’s eyebrows was arched, her way of saying that all was not well.
“Well, I suppose I could change my sweatshirt, maybe put on a sweater. Would that make you happy?”
Jane dried her hands, hung up her dishtowel and took Alice by the hand. “Come on, sister. You need to do some serious sprucing up and I’m here to help.”
As they walked up the stairs, Alice noticed how pretty her younger sister looked in her long denim skirt and paisley silk vest. But Jane had always had style. Like Mother, she seemed to be born with it. Alice, on the other hand, definitely had not.
Within minutes, Jane had changed Alice’s entire look—quite painlessly, too, since Alice still got to wear her jeans.
“I never would’ve thought to wear this suede jacket with jeans,” said Alice as she stood before the mirror and allowed Jane to play with her hair.
“And that scarf really sets off your eyes,” said Jane. “And see how something as simple as exchanging those chunky white walking shoes for nice brown loafers really pulls your look together. It actually makes your jeans look nice.”
Alice nodded. “And I don’t even feel like someone else. Well, not quite. Thanks, Jane. When you’re not busy cooking, making chocolates, decorating houses, gardening or making jewelry, perhaps you could teach a ‘how to dress’ seminar for old ladies.”
“You forgot painting,” said Jane as she set down the hairbrush and grinned.
Alice laughed. “It’s just not fair, Jane. You got all the creative talent in the family.”
Jane gave Alice a squeeze. “You’ve got something that’s a lot more important, Alice.” She nodded. “Remember what Father said in his journal. You’ve got the servant’s heart, and that is no small thing, sister.”
The two sisters walked to town together but parted ways since Jane had promised to help Sylvia with her booth and shop today. Alice had barely said good-bye when a couple of ANGELs ran up and grabbed Alice by the arm.
“Wow, you look nice, Miss Howard,” said Sarah.
“The bidding on the quilt has already started,” Ashley told Alice in a hushed voice as if it were all top secret.
“It’s already up to fifty dollars,” said Sarah eagerly. “And it’s only eleven now. At this rate, it might go up to a thousand dollars by five o’clock.”
Alice smiled at their enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Are you going to bid on it, Miss Howard?” asked Ashley.
“As a matter of fact, I h
ad planned to.”
“Right this way,” said Sarah as the two girls escorted her directly to the silent auction section set up under an awning near the hardware store.
“You sign up there for a number,” explained Sarah as she pointed to a table with a rust-and-gold plaid tablecloth. “That way no one but you and Mr. Humbert knows what you’re bidding on or how much you bid. He said that’s so no one gets angry with anyone else for outbidding them on something.”
Alice chuckled. “I suppose that makes sense.” She waved at Fred. “Hey, are you managing the silent auction?”
“Only for a couple of hours. Then I have to go mind the store. Vera plans to take over for me at noon.”
“How’s she feeling today?”
“According to her, she’s never felt better.”
“We were all praying for Mrs. Humbert,” said Sarah.
Fred reached over and patted her head. “I thank you, Sarah, and all you ANGELs. God was listening.”
“So was Miss Howard,” said Ashley. “To the radio, I mean.”
They laughed, and then Fred assigned Alice a secret number.
“Tell Vera I’ll be by to help her later,” said Alice. She went over to where their beautiful autumn quilt was displayed and moved the top-bidding price up five dollars.
“That’s your bid,” said Sarah triumphantly. “We know what your number is now, Miss Howard.”
She placed her crossed fingers over her lips and the girls did likewise.
“We know,” said Ashley. “We won’t say a word.”
“Thanks,” said Alice.
The two girls then escorted Alice around to see their favorite spots, a bead booth and a candle-making booth, and finally they talked her into having a cotton candy with them. She pulled at the sticky pink confection and laughed. “Goodness, I haven’t had cotton candy in years.”
“Why not?” asked Ashley.
“I guess I just never thought to.”
“I’ll never give up cotton candy,” said Sarah with all the conviction of a preadolescent. “Even when I’m an old, old lady, I’ll still be eating it.”
Hidden History Page 18