Read Online Fraying at the Edge by Cindy Woodsmall - Free Book Online
Authors: Cindy Woodsmall
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any difference, we can’t hide anything from each other concerning Skylar.”
“Okay.” Lovina glanced at the stairway and lowered her voice. “The whole time she and I were together yesterday—working some in the garden and then making lunch—she gave me nothing, Isaac. Not one kind word, not a smile, not really even lifting a hand to do any real work. She dragged herself through every hour and disappeared if I so much as blinked.”
But Skylar had logged time on her feet and not in her bedroom. That had to count for something. Today she’d slept in, waking only long enough to say her head hurt again.
Since everyone else was gone in a dozen directions now, Lovina thought it might be a good time to try to find something in common, something fun or interesting they might begin to bond over.
Her guilt about the girls hadn’t eased, nor had her grief. The situations Ariana and Skylar had been forced into were unfair, and Lovina carried the most responsibility. But she couldn’t let that drown her. There was work to be done in both their lives—prayers to be prayed and battles to be fought. Lovina had to keep moving forward. This was no time for immobilizing regret.
But one of the undeniable realities was that the hole Ariana had left—her tender heart toward everyone and her love of hard work—felt as deep as the well in the side yard.
Lovina picked up Isaac’s mug and took a sip of lukewarm coffee. “I hope Ariana is putting forth good effort for Brandi and Nicholas.”
“She is.”
“I’d sort of hoped that Skylar was one of those Englisch people who was enamored with Plain life.”
“That would have made the transition easier, but she would realize we’re not on that pedestal, because no one is. At least this way we get to work our way up, and it’ll be based on who we are, not who she thinks we are.”
Lovina slid her hands over Isaac’s. “That’s a good way to look at it, I suppose.”
He glanced at the clock. “It’s almost ten. Perhaps you should wake her.”
“What if she didn’t fall asleep until nearly morning?”
“Then she’d fit in with the rest of us, I think.” He shrugged. “No one is sleeping well right now.” He opened his paper and began reading again.
Lovina put a fresh pot of coffee on to percolate. She had a bacon biscuit sitting in a warm, covered frying pan. Surely Skylar would be up soon. In the meanwhile Lovina started scrubbing the inside of the oven. Twenty minutes later she heard the floor overhead creak and light footsteps on the stairs.
Still in her red silky pajamas, Skylar walked into the kitchen. Her blond hair with its black streak was tousled, and her gait resembled that of a wobbly-kneed senior citizen. She spotted them and froze, as if surprised to see them. Usually by this time Lovina was up to her elbows in outdoor chores—mostly laundry, some gardening, and helping with the never-ending farm work.
Lovina smiled. “Kumm. Sit.” She took a mug from the cabinet and poured hot coffee. She put the bacon biscuit on a plate and placed both in front of her.
“Thanks,” Skylar mumbled and leaned her temple against her palm.
Lovina passed her cream and sugar.
Skylar gave Lovina a sleepy halfhearted smile before returning her focus to the coffee.
Lovina sat across from her, and Skylar shifted. Were they making her uncomfortable? Lovina waited for the words to come to her, but her brain was just dead weight, and she looked to Isaac for help.
He fiddled with the edges of his newspaper. “We are wondering how you’re doing. You know, how are you feeling about the transition?”
His words were as stiff as the oak table between them. How were they going to reach into Skylar’s heart to make a difference when they couldn’t get past their own awkwardness?
Skylar took a sip of coffee. “Not much to compare this to, is there?”
“True.” Lovina stopped her fingers from fidgeting. “Still, you should know how you feel,
“Okay.” Lovina glanced at the stairway and lowered her voice. “The whole time she and I were together yesterday—working some in the garden and then making lunch—she gave me nothing, Isaac. Not one kind word, not a smile, not really even lifting a hand to do any real work. She dragged herself through every hour and disappeared if I so much as blinked.”
But Skylar had logged time on her feet and not in her bedroom. That had to count for something. Today she’d slept in, waking only long enough to say her head hurt again.
Since everyone else was gone in a dozen directions now, Lovina thought it might be a good time to try to find something in common, something fun or interesting they might begin to bond over.
Her guilt about the girls hadn’t eased, nor had her grief. The situations Ariana and Skylar had been forced into were unfair, and Lovina carried the most responsibility. But she couldn’t let that drown her. There was work to be done in both their lives—prayers to be prayed and battles to be fought. Lovina had to keep moving forward. This was no time for immobilizing regret.
But one of the undeniable realities was that the hole Ariana had left—her tender heart toward everyone and her love of hard work—felt as deep as the well in the side yard.
Lovina picked up Isaac’s mug and took a sip of lukewarm coffee. “I hope Ariana is putting forth good effort for Brandi and Nicholas.”
“She is.”
“I’d sort of hoped that Skylar was one of those Englisch people who was enamored with Plain life.”
“That would have made the transition easier, but she would realize we’re not on that pedestal, because no one is. At least this way we get to work our way up, and it’ll be based on who we are, not who she thinks we are.”
Lovina slid her hands over Isaac’s. “That’s a good way to look at it, I suppose.”
He glanced at the clock. “It’s almost ten. Perhaps you should wake her.”
“What if she didn’t fall asleep until nearly morning?”
“Then she’d fit in with the rest of us, I think.” He shrugged. “No one is sleeping well right now.” He opened his paper and began reading again.
Lovina put a fresh pot of coffee on to percolate. She had a bacon biscuit sitting in a warm, covered frying pan. Surely Skylar would be up soon. In the meanwhile Lovina started scrubbing the inside of the oven. Twenty minutes later she heard the floor overhead creak and light footsteps on the stairs.
Still in her red silky pajamas, Skylar walked into the kitchen. Her blond hair with its black streak was tousled, and her gait resembled that of a wobbly-kneed senior citizen. She spotted them and froze, as if surprised to see them. Usually by this time Lovina was up to her elbows in outdoor chores—mostly laundry, some gardening, and helping with the never-ending farm work.
Lovina smiled. “Kumm. Sit.” She took a mug from the cabinet and poured hot coffee. She put the bacon biscuit on a plate and placed both in front of her.
“Thanks,” Skylar mumbled and leaned her temple against her palm.
Lovina passed her cream and sugar.
Skylar gave Lovina a sleepy halfhearted smile before returning her focus to the coffee.
Lovina sat across from her, and Skylar shifted. Were they making her uncomfortable? Lovina waited for the words to come to her, but her brain was just dead weight, and she looked to Isaac for help.
He fiddled with the edges of his newspaper. “We are wondering how you’re doing. You know, how are you feeling about the transition?”
His words were as stiff as the oak table between them. How were they going to reach into Skylar’s heart to make a difference when they couldn’t get past their own awkwardness?
Skylar took a sip of coffee. “Not much to compare this to, is there?”
“True.” Lovina stopped her fingers from fidgeting. “Still, you should know how you feel,
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