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“Oh?” Gil took off his hat and moved fully into the small building, then stood on the tattered rag rug in the middle of the dirt floor. “When Taunte Dorcas said I’d need to stay in the old summer kitchen, she didn’t mention it was your room now.”
Of course she didn’t. Neither she nor Pa had ever considered that he’d like to be asked about sharing his room, his clothes—his parents—with an orphaned cousin. Especially a cousin who excelled at everything, making Joseph feel inept in comparison. Joseph shrugged. “Well, it is. I took it a year ago, when the twins outgrew their cradles. Once Pa moved Menno and Simon into the boys’ room, there wasn’t enough space for me anymore.”
A soft chuckle rumbled from Gil’s throat. “I imagine not. It was plenty crowded when it was just you, Earl, Herman, and me in there.”
The boys’ room in the house hadn’t felt overly crowded to Joseph until Gil moved in. Strange, too, considering how close the two of them had been before Gil’s parents died. Living under the same roof had changed things in lots of ways. None of them for the good.
“Jo, well, your bed’s ready if you’re tired.” Joseph gestured to the cot Ma told him to set up for his cousin’s use. To his chagrin, guilt needled him. The cot’s frame was rickety, with a hay-stuffed mattress that smelled like the cellar where Pa kept it for sleeping when it was too hot in his upstairs room. But it was the only extra bed available unless Joseph gave up half his bed, the way he’d done when Gil first joined their family. Should he offer to trade beds with Gil?Do unto others,Pa often preached. Joseph wouldn’t want to sleep on that stinky, lumpy cot, so he probably shouldn’t expect Gil to. But Ma must have thought it was good enough for Gil or she wouldn’t have had Joseph bring it to the summer kitchen. He pushed aside the uncomfortable feeling.
Gil crossed to the cot and sat on it. He leaned against the brick-framedmeagropePa still used every fall to render the lardafter butchering their hogs. “I appreciate you sharing your room with me again. I know it isn’t convenient.”
Having Gil underfoot had never been convenient, but what was Joseph to do? Gil was family. As Pa had told Ma, family takes care of family even if one more mouth to feed is a burden. Joseph flopped onto his rope bed and propped himself against the wall. He pulled up one knee, looped his arm around it, and examined a hangnail on his thumb. “It’s all right.” He glanced at Gil. “It won’t be for long, jo?”
“Only for the summer.”
The whole summer? Joseph thudded his foot to the floor. “But what about New York? What about your music? Can you be away from there for so long?”
“It’s kind of you to be concerned about me, but”—
Joseph was more concerned about himself. With Gil in town, would Ava take to ignoring Joseph again?
—“New York will keep. It won’t even notice I’m not there.”
Was there a hint of bitterness in Gil’s tone?
Gil shifted on the cot, making it squeak. “But you might not see much of me, either. Onkel Bernard asked me to direct the men’s band while I’m in town.”
Joseph always called Ava’s fatherOomkjeFlaming—a more formal title. Hearing Gil’s familiarity with the man, still in place after a four-year separation, rankled.
“I plan to look for a job,” Gil continued, “so I should stay busy while I’m here. I won’t be in your way.”
Joseph stifled a snort. Gil would be in Joseph’s way by being in town. By being where Ava would see him and talk to him. But maybe a job would keep Gil too busy to spend time with Ava. Joseph could hope. He’d lost so much to Gil when they were boys—deprived of his position as oldest child in thehousehold, relegated from pitcher to catcher on the high school baseball team, and earning the title of salutatorian instead of valedictorian when they graduated. When they were boys, he’d fallen for Ava Flaming the same way Gil had, but Gil had won her favor. He’d thought for sure he’d be able to steal her heart after Gil went away. He’d become her friend, maybe even her confidant, but he’d yet to become her beau. If Gil tried to take up with her again, Joseph might—
“It’s late.” Gil yawned, then sent a lazy smile at Joseph. “We should probably go to sleep and not talk all night the way we did when we were boys.”
Joseph gave a little start. He’d forgotten about their sleepovers in Gil’s barn loft that never seemed to involve sleep. But that was before Gil’s parents died. Before Gil moved into Joseph’s house. Before resentment ruined the closeness he’d felt toward this cousin who was only five months older than he. For a moment, nostalgia tried to take hold, but then he envisioned Gil at Ava’s dining room table, smiling, laughing, winning her heart again…
He stood and stomped to the bureau at the foot of his bed. He yanked open the middle drawer and rummaged through it. “You’re right. Tomorrow’s Saturday—lots of extra chores.” He pulled out a sleep shirt and bumped the drawer closed with his knee. “There’s not a set of drawers for you to use while you’re here. I hope you won’t mind keeping your things in your suitcase. I put it under the cot after I set it up.”
“I don’t mind.” Gil knelt and slid the case from its hiding spot and unbuckled it. “Thank you for finding a good place to keep it.”
Did he have to be so polite? But then, Gil had always been polite. Polite. Respectful. Obedient. Cooperative. Joseph silently listed Gil’s attributes, inwardly seething. This cousinof his was almost perfect. For reasons Joseph couldn’t explain, he wanted Gil to be different now. A big-city bigwig. Self-important. Unlikable. His appreciation for such a ridiculously insignificant act made Joseph feel guilty for having jammed the suitcase out of sight.
Gil pulled out a neatly folded sleep shirt. “Ava suggested I give music lessons to children to earn some money.”
Instantly the guilt fled and irritation rose in its stead. What was Ava doing, giving Gil ideas that would keep him in town?
Gil sat on his heels and angled a curious look at Joseph. “What do you think? Would people in town hire me?”
Joseph wadded his striped sleep shirt in his hands. “I don’t know. Where would you do the lessons? Mr. Goertz gave lessons at his house.” There wasn’t any place on Joseph’s family’s homestead for Gil to set up class. Every room in the house already served a necessary function. But if the lessons were Ava’s idea, would she offer her parlor as a location for them?
Gil rose, draped his sleep shirt on the cot, and removed his suit jacket. “I don’t know yet. Maybe in the children’s homes. That would probably be convenient for the families.” A faraway look entered Gil’s eyes. “I remember the music room at Mr. Goertz’s house. Wood paneling on all the walls, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and so many oil lamps shining from their brass brackets there was light in every corner. No shadowy gloom even on cloudy days. Such a…a happy place. I’m not sure why, but everything I played seemed to sound better in that room than anywhere else.” He frowned and jerked his focus back to Joseph. “What happened to Mr. Goertz’s piano and all the books and sheet music from his shelves?”
Joseph shrugged. “I guess they were all lost in the fire.”
Gil’s hands stilled on his shirt buttons. “Fire? What fire?”
“His house burned down about a month after he died. Afreak lightning strike, everybody said.” Joseph tossed his clothes aside and pulled the sleep shirt over his head. “Didn’t you know?”
