Wondering where the little boy has gone that I used to tuck into bed at night.â
Barbie deserted the potato salad to give Judith a quick hug. âYouâve been a fine mother to Joseph.â Her eyes sparkled suddenly. âI wonder how long it will be before Rebecca adds another boppli to the family.â
âItâs too soon to talk about the possibility of another baby,â Judith chided, but she couldnât help thinking about it, too.
âMatthewâs already acting as a father to Rebeccaâs two,â Barbie said. âFor sure theyâre going to want more children.â
Barbie was probably right, but they shouldnât be speculating about it. âWe need to be starting to get things lined up for the wedding, not wondering about babies. Lots of couples will have started their planning a year ago, most likely, and every Tuesday and Thursday after fall communion will be jammed with weddings.â
âIâm making lists,â Barbie said, adding some fresh parsley to the top of the bowl to brighten up the potato salad. âFolks are so happy for them that theyâre lining up to help. Maybe one afternoon next week we should get together with Rebecca to talk.â
âGood idea. Rebecca will have ideas of her own, especially since itâs a second wedding.â Judith glanced out the kitchen window. The boys were tossing a ball around with Joseph, with even little Noah grabbing for it, missing, and then running after it as fast as his legs could carry him. The boys obviously wanted to be outside to see the first guests arriveâthe little ones more excited about it than Joseph, even. But Isaac was nowhere to be seen.
Her heart gave a lurch. Isaac had to be there to greet the family. It would look so odd if he wasnât. She bit her lip. Poor Isaac. She was trying to understand his feelings, but it washard when he wouldnât talk about them. She had tried twice since Joseph had blurted out the truth of when the farmhouse burned, and all sheâd gotten in return was a stony, forbidding expression.
Joseph had known, and Isaacâs own wife hadnât. Did Isaac even realize how strange that was?
Barbie slid the potato salad into the gas refrigerator. âBy the way, what vocational class is Joseph taking? I was going to ask him, but I didnât get a chance.â
âVocational class?â Judith echoed the words, turning to stare at Barbie. âWhat makes you think Joseph is taking a vocational class?â
âIsnât he?â Barbie tilted her head to the side. âReally? You know we have a bulletin board at the bakery with all those workshops and courses listed, and Joseph was in the other day, studying it as if it was the most important thing heâd ever seen. I noticed he took one of the folders away with him, so I just assumed he was taking something. Lots of the young ones do, once theyâre finished with eighth grade.â
Barbie spoke of the âyoung onesâ as if she were decades older than they were instead of eight or nine years.
âI donât think heâs mentioned anything about it. Anyway, why would he be wanting to take a class? He knows the farm will be his one day. Isaac is already teaching him what he needs to know to run a dairy operation.â Somehow, even as she said the words, doubt crept in.
Barbie shrugged. âSometimes kids have ideas of their own. I surely did when I was that age.â She grinned. âMaybe I still do, come to think of it.â
Judith suppressed the urge to say that Joseph couldnât. Ofcourse he could. Just because he didnât talk about it, that didnât mean he wasnât thinking about it.
âHe was probably getting the folder for a friend of his, thatâs all,â she said.
She tried to believe what she was saying. Isaac was already irritated enough over Josephâs daydreaming and inattention to his work. If he thought Joseph
Learning to Kill: Stories