Christine Johnson - Mail Order Mommy

“Shall we say grace?” He bowed his head.

Isaac followed, but Sadie stared at Amanda. “Aren’t you going to eat, too?”

Garrett didn’t realize she was still standing halfway between the kitchen and the table. He hadn’t considered how awkward it might be to have her watch them eat just so she could clean up afterward.

“Yes, please join us.” It was the least he could do after making her go hungry the night before.

She hesitated. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.” He had to speak firmly so she wouldn’t back out of this. “Please sit before the food gets cold.”

She dropped into the fourth chair. “Let’s hold hands while praying.”

“Hold hands?” Garrett didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all. “We’re asking blessing on the food, not playing a child’s game.”

Her color heightened. “I, well, it’s something Pearl and I liked to do back in the...” Her voice trailed off.

“Back where?” Isaac demanded.

Judging from the way she’d blanched, Garrett suspected she’d been about to say the orphanage. Roland had told him about Pearl, how she’d been raised in an orphanage. It made sense that her childhood friend had also grown up there.

“Back when we were your age,” she said.

Before his son could point out that she hadn’t exactly answered the question, Garrett told them to fold their hands and bow their heads for the blessing. By the time he finished the overly long list of things for which they were grateful, Isaac had forgotten to point out Amanda’s misdirected answer.

Amanda stood. “Allow me to dish up the food.”

“No, I can do it.” Garrett’s hand met hers on the spoon, and a peculiar sensation made him look up at her. The jolt reminded him of the stingers he sometimes got from the machinery. Except this wasn’t unpleasant. Judging from the way her eyes widened, she’d felt it, too.

She yanked back her hand. “Thank you.” It came out in a whisper.

Garrett cleared his throat. “Hand me your plate, Sadie. Ladies first.”

Sadie giggled. “I’m a girl, not a lady.”

“Of course you are,” Amanda said. “You don’t have to be as old as me to be a lady. Ladyship is more about one’s manners and grace.”

She proceeded to explain table manners to Sadie, though Garrett noticed that his son was listening, too. “Hold your fork like this.” She demonstrated.

Sadie attempted and dropped the fork. “I can’t.”

“It takes practice, like learning sums. Keep trying, and soon you’ll have it.”

“That’s not the way men eat,” Isaac insisted. “A real man holds on to his fork so no one can take it away from him. Right, Pa?”

Garrett quickly shifted the way he held the fork. Eva had always complained that he acted uncivilized at the table. He’d stubbornly refused to change, even saying that nonsense about needing to hold on to his fork. True, Roland had snatched a fork from him once when they were children and refused to give it back, but that had been roundly reprimanded by their mother. Garrett never dreamed his resistance to Eva’s attempts to change him would influence their son.

He cleared his throat. “A gentleman holds his fork like Miss Amanda is showing you.”

“I don’t want to be a gentleman. I want to be like you.”

Amanda’s eyebrows shot up.

Garrett felt both pleasure that his son wanted to emulate him and distress that he had set such a poor example. “Well, from now on, I’m going to eat like a gentleman.”

Amanda smiled, and warmth spread through him. She approved. That was amazing enough, but even more startling was how much he enjoyed that approval. What was happening to him?

He took a bite of the hash and choked.

“What is it?” She looked horrified.

He swallowed without chewing more than necessary and washed down the rest with half of the cup of water in front of him.

“It’s...different.”

She took a small taste, and the expression of horror intensified.

“It’s salty,” Isaac pointed out.

“Thank you, son.” Garrett motioned for him to say nothing further while Amanda guzzled water.

Sadie, always a dainty eater, picked out little pieces of onion and ate them as if there was nothing wrong with the hash.

Amanda recovered. “Oh, dear. I added too much salt, but Mrs. Calloway said everything needs salt.”

“Except perhaps salt pork,” Garrett said.

She looked mortified. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know how to fix it.”

Garrett had learned a few tricks from those days when Roland was busy and he had to cook something for the children, mostly because he made a lot of mistakes. He grabbed the skillet and stood. “We’ll dilute it.”

* * *

We? Amanda rose and set her napkin on the table. Garrett Decker was helping her?

She followed him the few steps to the kitchen. Her face must be flaming red. It certainly felt that way. How could she have made such a blunder? Mrs. Calloway had suggested she taste before serving. With the fiasco over the burned potatoes and Sadie’s distress, Amanda had forgotten that all important tip.

Now she stood beside Garrett at the kitchen worktable. It was such a small surface that their arms nearly touched.

“Get a bowl from the cupboard,” he commanded.

When she picked out a soup bowl, he sent her back for a serving bowl. Then he scraped the salty hash into it.

“Chop two more potatoes,” he said. “Did you get any other vegetables, like carrots?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. We’ll add four of those, too. Chop them fine so they cook quickly.”

She could figure out that much, but considering her record tonight, she didn’t think it wise to mention.

Meanwhile, the children watched every move with wide eyes. Isaac crawled onto his chair and leaned across the table to whisper something to Sadie. She giggled. Dear me, even the children found her efforts humorous.

“Isaac, bring your plates here. Then bring ours.” Garrett then added the contents to the bowl on the worktable.

Amanda finished peeling and chopping the potatoes and carrots. Garrett added a little of the hash to the skillet and then had her add the raw vegetables. When they had gotten tender, he added a bit more of the hash and stirred it all together. After it heated, he had her taste the mixture.

“A little bland,” she reported.

He added more of the salty hash and then a little more until it tasted just right.

“How did you learn to do that?” she marveled.

“From experience. The best teacher.” He smiled at her. “The same thing happened to me once.”

His words were intended to comfort, but his smile went a lot further. She had hardly ever seen Garrett Decker smile. He was the sorrowing widower, never pleased with anyone or anything. Even in church or when escorting Fiona to the hotel dining room, he hadn’t smiled. Only with his children did he smile. It changed him so much, from a rigid, dour perfectionist to a compassionate man.

Amanda breathed out. “You have a beautiful smile.”

It instantly vanished. “Everyone’s hungry. Let’s eat.”

* * *

Amanda reveled in what had happened long after she returned to the boardinghouse and settled into bed. Her mind whirled round and round, going over the events in minute detail. Garrett hadn’t yelled at her. He’d worked with her. He’d shown her consideration and compassion. He’d granted her leniency. He’d smiled at her.

The sheets being cold, she blew on her icy fingers and wiggled her toes, trying to warm them.

“Could you be still?” Pearl grumbled. “I’m trying to get some sleep.”

For a second Amanda tried to imagine not having to share a room and a bed with her friend, who was every bit as dear as a sister. No one to complain when she moved around in bed. No one who knew every little thing about her. Just like it had been at the Chatsworths. She shuddered. Pearl meant everything to her. With her married and gone, Amanda would no longer have someone at the ready to hear about every moment of her day and give her advice and consolation.