nearly splitting the yolk.
Her mother laughed. “That makes sense. Old Emma probably had it in for the male species. Never being married. Want and desire. It works that way sometimes.”
Rebecca would have spoken up in Emma’s defense even risking her own hurt, but she couldn’t.
Her mother laughed again. “Nobody could ever explain why Emma never married. She was good looking enough. Came from a good family. There really was no reason anyone could see. I suppose she had offers. At least you would think so.”
Rebecca paid total attention to the eggs in the pan, flipping the first one out and onto the waiting plate. It made a soft slapping sound on landing, its yolk gently vibrating as a properly done Amish fried egg should.
“There were rumors once,” her mother continued, “that she might have been seeing a Mennonite boy. Must have been when she was around eighteen. My! It’s been so long ago, I can’t remember exactly. No one could ever prove it. She was already a church member. Her dating a Mennonite would have caused terrible problems, which of course it should have. Maybe her heart was broken,” Mattie mused.
Rebecca found her voice. “You’re just imagining things, Mother. That’s just gossip.”
“Probably,” her mother allowed. “A person just thinks about it at times.”
“Emma was a good person,” Rebecca replied, bringing the last egg out of the pan.
The front door swung open, the noise and blast of cold air startling her. Her hand jerked and made the egg slip off the spatula and slide across the floor.
“Now you’ve made dog food out of a good egg,” her mother lamented. “We’re not like the English. They feed their pets out of cans.”
Rebecca drew in her breath sharply and knelt down on the floor to gather up the ruined egg. Getting to her feet again, she dumped it into the slop bucket. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Well, if you ever have a mind to marry that John, be more careful,” her mother said. “Young couples have a hard enough time. Starting up and all. Wasting even an egg can be hard.”
“I know,” Rebecca muttered, not because it was true, but because she wished she could tell her mother that a greater danger than broken eggs lay between her and a marriage to John.
She suddenly wanted to reach out, as if for air, to tell her mother real good and loud that she was engaged since yesterday to John, that the wedding was planned for next spring. To tell her about the wonderful time at the bridge yesterday. To tell her how John looked at her, how he had held her hand…but she could not.
Rebecca came out of her thoughts to find her mother staring at her. “Now, now, it wasn’t that bad. It’s an egg. I didn’t mean to be that hard on you,” her mother said. “I’m sure John will understand a broken egg now and then. He probably has enough money to cover that, but you certainly shouldn’t be thinking about that as a reason to be marrying him.”
“I wasn’t,” Rebecca said, returning to her troubled thoughts.
“Pancakes!” Lester’s voice boomed with good cheer at the kitchen door. Having put his chore coat and boots away in the basement, he had come up silently on them. “What a treat. Now if we just had maple syrup, things would be perfect.”
“We
have
maple syrup,” Mattie said, making a face at him. “You don’t think I would forget. I always keep some around for you.”
“Well, times are hard,” he grinned. “You never know.” Catching sight of Rebecca’s face, he paused. “What’s wrong with her?”
“You startled her when you came in. She just lost an egg to the dogs. I made things worse. Told her that John couldn’t afford a wife who lost too many eggs. What an awful thing to say to a young girl in love. I should have my mouth taped shut at times. Now come, Rebecca. It’s really nothing at all. It’s just an egg.”
Rebecca nodded numbly, as if it was the egg that troubled her.
“Ya,” Lester allowed, “one egg more
Her mother laughed. “That makes sense. Old Emma probably had it in for the male species. Never being married. Want and desire. It works that way sometimes.”
Rebecca would have spoken up in Emma’s defense even risking her own hurt, but she couldn’t.
Her mother laughed again. “Nobody could ever explain why Emma never married. She was good looking enough. Came from a good family. There really was no reason anyone could see. I suppose she had offers. At least you would think so.”
Rebecca paid total attention to the eggs in the pan, flipping the first one out and onto the waiting plate. It made a soft slapping sound on landing, its yolk gently vibrating as a properly done Amish fried egg should.
“There were rumors once,” her mother continued, “that she might have been seeing a Mennonite boy. Must have been when she was around eighteen. My! It’s been so long ago, I can’t remember exactly. No one could ever prove it. She was already a church member. Her dating a Mennonite would have caused terrible problems, which of course it should have. Maybe her heart was broken,” Mattie mused.
Rebecca found her voice. “You’re just imagining things, Mother. That’s just gossip.”
“Probably,” her mother allowed. “A person just thinks about it at times.”
“Emma was a good person,” Rebecca replied, bringing the last egg out of the pan.
The front door swung open, the noise and blast of cold air startling her. Her hand jerked and made the egg slip off the spatula and slide across the floor.
“Now you’ve made dog food out of a good egg,” her mother lamented. “We’re not like the English. They feed their pets out of cans.”
Rebecca drew in her breath sharply and knelt down on the floor to gather up the ruined egg. Getting to her feet again, she dumped it into the slop bucket. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Well, if you ever have a mind to marry that John, be more careful,” her mother said. “Young couples have a hard enough time. Starting up and all. Wasting even an egg can be hard.”
“I know,” Rebecca muttered, not because it was true, but because she wished she could tell her mother that a greater danger than broken eggs lay between her and a marriage to John.
She suddenly wanted to reach out, as if for air, to tell her mother real good and loud that she was engaged since yesterday to John, that the wedding was planned for next spring. To tell her about the wonderful time at the bridge yesterday. To tell her how John looked at her, how he had held her hand…but she could not.
Rebecca came out of her thoughts to find her mother staring at her. “Now, now, it wasn’t that bad. It’s an egg. I didn’t mean to be that hard on you,” her mother said. “I’m sure John will understand a broken egg now and then. He probably has enough money to cover that, but you certainly shouldn’t be thinking about that as a reason to be marrying him.”
“I wasn’t,” Rebecca said, returning to her troubled thoughts.
“Pancakes!” Lester’s voice boomed with good cheer at the kitchen door. Having put his chore coat and boots away in the basement, he had come up silently on them. “What a treat. Now if we just had maple syrup, things would be perfect.”
“We
have
maple syrup,” Mattie said, making a face at him. “You don’t think I would forget. I always keep some around for you.”
“Well, times are hard,” he grinned. “You never know.” Catching sight of Rebecca’s face, he paused. “What’s wrong with her?”
“You startled her when you came in. She just lost an egg to the dogs. I made things worse. Told her that John couldn’t afford a wife who lost too many eggs. What an awful thing to say to a young girl in love. I should have my mouth taped shut at times. Now come, Rebecca. It’s really nothing at all. It’s just an egg.”
Rebecca nodded numbly, as if it was the egg that troubled her.
“Ya,” Lester allowed, “one egg more
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