That's because you were sick last week, and I had to do your chores and mine. Lena rose, smoothed down her dress as best she could, and opened the door. The main room was already alive with activity. Jonas stood at the stove, flipping flapjacks with practiced efficiency while simultaneously settling a dispute between the twins. Ruthie was braiding Rose's hair.
Samuel was trying to convince his father he was old enough to take the wagon to town alone. The baby, Eliza, banged a wooden spoon against her high chair with rhythmic determination. No one noticed Lena at first. She stood in the doorway, watching this choreographed chaos with something like awe. In her old life, in her marriage to Daniel, mornings had been silent, tense affairs.
Her husband reading his newspaper, her moving quietly so as not to disturb him, both of them existing in the same space without really touching. This was different. This was noise and life and energy bouncing off every wall. Miss Crowell. Esther spotted her first, waving enthusiastically from her seat at the table.
You're awake. Pa made flapjacks. Do you like flapjacks? I like them best with honey, but Jacob likes molasses, and Esther breathe. Ruthie said mildly, tying off Rose's braid.
Jonas turned from the stove, a slight smile playing at his lips. Morning. Hope the noise didn't wake you too early. No, I Lena realized with a start that she'd slept through the entire night. No waking in the dark, no lying awake replaying her failures, no tears soaking her pillow, just deep, dreamless sleep.
I slept well, thank you. Good. You look like you needed it. He gestured to the table with his spatula. Sit.
Breakfast is almost ready. Lena moved to take the same seat as last night, between Maggie and Esther. The little girl immediately scooted closer, chatting about the tadpoles she'd found in the creek, and could she keep them as pets, and would they turn into frogs if she waited long enough? Yes, they'll turn into frogs, Lena answered, feeling steadier on this safe ground of simple questions. But they need water, lots of it, and special food.
Esther's eyes went wide. What kind of special food? Algae, mostly, and tiny insects. We have lots of insects. Esther bounced in her seat.
Jacob found a beetle yesterday that was this big. She spread her hands improbably wide. It was not that big, Jacob protested from across the table. It was just a regular beetle. Was too that big.
Tell her, Maggie. Maggie, who'd been quietly eating her breakfast, looked up with the long-suffering expression of a middle child. It was a normal-sized beetle, Esther. You're exaggerating again. Jonas set a plate in front of Lena, three golden flapjacks, a pat of butter melting on top, honey drizzled over everything.
The smell alone made her stomach rumble. Thank you, she said. He nodded, already moving to serve the next child. Lena watched him work. The easy way he moved between stove and table, how he knew without asking that Daniel liked his flapjacks cut into squares, and David preferred his whole.