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“Roald wanted the chance to try a little distance with his crutches before he walks to the post office tomorrow for his first day as substitute clerk,” Papa said. “Coming to our house will be a good practice for him.”
Ava smiled, remembering Papa’s pride at having found away of giving Gil time to work with the boys’ band every day. “Are you and Mr. Willems nervous about trading duties?”
Papa helped her into the carriage and then climbed in. “Nä. Roald is a smart man. After our talk yesterday, I feel confident he’ll do fine.” Papa snapped the reins, and the horse jerked the conveyance into motion. “He says he’s not worried about me, either, since Miss Dirks agreed to let Timmy ride along on the days he isn’t attending band practice. The boy will hop down and make the actual deliveries when he’s with me. All I have to do is drive the wagon—Timmy will do the real work.”
Ava grinned up at him. “And earn his new band uniform, jo?”
Papa chuckled. “That is the idea. I’m glad the parents approved the uniforms today. The boys will look as good as they sound.” He sighed, a contented smile on his square face. “Timmy is a good boy. Being with Gil and Roald has done him wonders. It’s too bad this band won’t last beyond the summer. I think it has already been a real benefit to Timmy as well as the other boys in town.”
Ava worried her lower lip between her teeth. “Papa, about the band…” She aimed a sideways glance at him. “Joseph thinks it would have been better if the band was never started since Gil will only be here for the summer. What do you think?”
“I think Joseph is a jealous boy trapped in a man’s body and needs to grow up all the way.”
Ava burst out laughing. “Papa!”
He grinned at her. “You asked me what I thought.”
“I meant about the band.”
“Ah.” Papa looked forward, expertly guiding the horse on the winding roadway. “I think the band is a good thing, no matter how long it lasts. New experiences are always good for growing.”
“That’s what I think, too.” She folded her hands in her lap.“I do worry, though, how the boys will feel when it comes to an end.”
“And I worry how you will feel when it comes to an end, because it means telling Gil goodbye again. Unless”—he flicked a side-eye glance at her—“you’ve decided you cannot tell him goodbye again.”
Ava’s chest went tight. “Papa…”
He transferred both reins to one hand and placed his thick, warm palm over her hands. “I’m sorry, my Leefste. I know it is a tender subject, but it must be said. You never truly let Gil go. If you had, you would have accepted the affections of another man by now. Yet you reject your potential suitor.” He chuckled and returned his hand to the reins. “Now, I don’t mind that you reject Joseph Baty. I’m sure he has the capacity to be a good man. He is, after all, related to Gil. But he’s far too immature and temperamental to be a good husband to you.”
Ava covered her searing cheeks with her palms. “Papa, please, I don’t want to talk about this.” Especially not when very soon she and Gil would sit down at the dining room table together. How could she behave normally around him with Papa’s words ringing in her ears? She smacked her hands downward. “My rejection of another suitor has nothing to do with Gil and everything to do with you and Mama. With her so sick, I can’t leave you. Who would do the cooking and cleaning? You need me.”
Papa released a littlehumph.“We could hire a girl to do those things. We love you, and we appreciate your goodness to us, but we do not need you as our housekeeper.” He tugged the reins, and Pansy obediently pulled their carriage into the barn. He set the brake, shifted sideways in the seat, and looked into Ava’s eyes. “I think, though, you need us to fill the emptiness you feel inside.”
Why was he being so cruel? Ava folded her arms and scowled at her father. “That isn’t fair, Papa.”
“Nä? But you don’t tell me it isn’t true, so maybe I know what I’m talking about.”
Ava hung her head. A tear rolled down her cheek and plopped onto her flowered skirt.
Papa sighed. “I’m sorry, Leefste. I didn’t mean to upset you. I only want you to think. Your heavenly Father has a good plan for your life. I don’t want you to hide from it out of a false sense of loyalty to your mama and me or out of fear of the unknown. I want you to seek Him and follow Him, wherever He may lead you.”
Ava scooted to the edge of the seat and slid to the ground. She grabbed her skirts and shook them free of the travel dust. “If Gil and Mr. Willems are coming for lunch, I need to set the table.” She hurried off before Papa could pierce her further.
—
While papa andtheir guests visited and partook of the roasted pork, potatoes, carrots, and biscuits Ava had prepared for lunch, she picked at her food. She rolled over in her mind Papa’s comments about a hired worker being able to replace her. How awful to find out how little Papa needed her. But Papa wasn’t sick. Mama was. So Mama’s opinion was the one that counted most.
For dessert, Ava brought out dishes ofPlüma Mooss.Papa was particularly fond of the chilled fruit compote. Had she known how much he would upset her on the drive home, she would have made his least favorite dessert—rhubarb pie—instead. As she placed his dish in front of him, he curled his fingers around her upper arm and delivered a gentle squeeze.
Tears threatened. She knew what he intended by the gesture—that he was sorry. She also knew she would accept his wordless apology because, despite how much his words had stabbed her tender soul, his intentions were loving. She offered him a quick smile, then turned her attention to their guests.
“Gentlemen, please feel free to stay and visit as long as you like. If you will excuse me, I’m going to take some lunch to Mama.”
Mr. Willems spooned a mushy prune from his bowl and held it up as if making a toast. “Thank you for the good lunch, Miss Flaming. Please tell your mama she is in my prayers.”
Such a kind man. Ava nodded. “I will. Thank you.” She took one step toward the kitchen.
“Ava?” Gil’s voice brought her to a halt.
