The Caregiver - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,19

you know how to call a taxi?” she asked.

“I’ve never done it, but it shouldn’t be too hard,” he said, scanning the near-empty street. “If we ever see one drive by,” he added, his voice dry.

Because the road did appear empty, and her heart felt so light, she teased him back: “Finding a taxicab should be only as difficult as it would be to find a horse and buggy.”

“Or, for us, a train that worked,” he murmured.

Unable to help herself, she tilted her head back and laughed.

And felt even lighter when Calvin joined in.

Chapter 7

“Mattie, isn’t this such a wonderful-gut activity? I knew as soon as we got around our friends, our spirits would lift.”

Mattie smiled and nodded from her chair at the edge of the Knepps’ kitchen. Privately, however, she wished she was sitting almost anywhere else. It was hard to watch ladies and girls her age bustle around the kitchen . . . making fried pies to sell. For her benefit.

When her mother gave her a meaningful look, Mattie cleared her throat. “Yes. I mean, I’m terribly grateful for you all.”

“Don’t think anything of it,” Gwen Kent said as she cut more shortening into the dough. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Well, all I know is that these will be the flakiest fried pies anyone has ever tasted, for sure,” her mother said. “People will snap them up.”

“Oh, they will,” Joanne Knepp said confidently. “Everyone likes a gut fried pie, for a wonderful cause.”

Gwen darted another smile her way.

“The way you all are working so hard in our makeshift assembly line practically brings tears to my eyes,” Mattie’s mom said to everyone.

Mrs. Knepp chuckled. “We work so well together, we’re almost professional, jah?”

Feeling left out, Mattie got to her feet. “Maybe I could help box them up?”

Mrs. Kent waved away her offer with one hand. “Oh, please don’t, dear. I’d feel awful if you wore yourself out. All you need to do is get better soon.”

“I agree,” Mrs. Knepp said. “It’s enough that you’re here. And making these pies gives me a nice reason to enjoy everyone’s company. All I’ve been doing is either spring cleaning or working in the garden.”

“Jah. Having an excuse to be in the company of other women all day is a wonderful-gut thing,” Mrs. Lapp agreed. “Mattie, are you comfortable?”

“Mighty comfortable. Danke.” Mrs. Knepp had pulled into the kitchen one of the upholstered chairs from her front room.

After carefully taking two pies out of hot oil and setting them on an old newspaper to dry, Mrs. Knepp said, “Mattie, you had a doctor’s appointment today, yes?”

Pure dismay coursed through her as she realized that all the women in the room had just perked right up. “Jah,” she said.

“Did you learn any news?”

Mattie felt her stomach sting. “It was just a checkup.”

Her mother jumped into the conversation. “Mattie’s stitches are healing nicely, though he was a bit concerned about some of her blood work. He asked you to rest as much as possible.” She nodded. “Right, Mattie?”

What could she say? Weakly, Mattie nodded—though an evil part of her wanted to glare at her mother. Really, if she was that concerned about her welfare, shouldn’t she have taken her home—instead of putting her on display in someone’s kitchen?

After the women made some clucking noises, Mrs. Knepp asked, “Mattie, won’t your cousin be here soon to help?”

“Lucy will be here this evening.”

“She’ll have to come over. I’ll introduce her to lots of people,” Gwen said.

Just as if Lucy was coming out to vacation.

Mattie fought to keep a smile on her face. Honestly, it felt like no one really understood how weak she felt. How dismayed. How worried she was about her future.

Her mother spoke. “Unfortunately, Lucy’s train broke down in Toledo, and she has to spend most of her day there.”

“Poor Lucy,” Mrs. Knepp said. “I remember meeting her years ago. I would have hoped her journey was easier.”

“I would have hoped so, too, but one must deal with what one is given,” her mother said with a meaningful look Mattie’s way. “I have faith that she’ll get through this challenge well and good, and have a story to tell.”

“At least one,” Mattie said drily.

Mrs. Knepp’s eyes twinkled. “In any case, Lucy’s arrival should cheer you up, Mattie dear. And that is the most important thing, yes? And I bet a few of these wonderful-gut pies will, too.”

“I like the lemon ones,” Hannah Kent said.

“Me too, dear,” Mrs. Kent said with a smile. Wiping her hands on her apron,