“Tea,” Jayne repeated slowly. “Well, actually the girls haven’t been feeling well. A touch of the flu. They’re both napping. It’s unusual to get them both down at the same time, and I was hoping—”
“Then I couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.” She stepped past Jayne and moved directly into the house.
If she sensed any hesitation in her niece, the condition of the house explained everything. The living room carpet was littered with toys. The Christmas tree leaned to one side, and the decorations looked to be mostly handmade, ones the children had crafted in school, which made the scrawny tree even more unattractive. Her own Christmas tree was a showpiece. The decorations had been carefully collected over the years and were of the finest quality.
Harriett’s home had never been this untidy. Poor Jayne was embarrassed, as well she should be. There was no excuse for such a mess. A clean home was akin to godliness. Although she couldn’t recall the precise Bible verse, she was sure that was scriptural.
“I’ll make the tea,” Harriett announced when Jayne hesitated. By all that was right, she should say something to her niece about the condition of her home; but Jayne had mentioned the girls weren’t feeling well. With a job outside the home, the poor woman should be given a bit of slack.
Harriett wasn’t often indulgent, but she was sure God would be equally charitable with her niece. If she weren’t already so involved with her many efforts at the church, she would offer to come help Jayne with the household chores. But one could take on only so much.
“I imagine you’ll want me over for Christmas dinner again this year,” Harriett said as she filled the teapot with hot water.
“Actually, Steve’s family asked us to dinner.”
“Oh.” That left Harriett with several choices.
“You’d be welcome to join us,” Jayne offered.
Harriett squared her shoulders. “Thank you, no. I’d be uncomfortable with a group of strangers on Christmas. I suppose I can change my plans and spend Christmas Eve with you and the children. We can open gifts then. Yes, that’s what we’ll do. Following the program Christmas Eve, we’ll return to the house and the girls can open their gifts.”
Jayne cleared the breakfast dishes from the table. “Ah…I’ll need to check with Steve, but I think it should be all right.”
“Of course it’ll be all right. I’m your aunt.” She carried the steeping tea to the table. Jayne brought down two delicate cups and pulled out a chair.
Harriett sighed as she settled across from her niece. Frankly it felt good to sit down. She’d been on her feet most of the day and was scheduled to meet with Reba Maxwell later in the afternoon to practice for the Christmas program.
“Well,” Harriett said with a belabored sigh, “I have a number of concerns on my mind that I’ve made a matter of prayer.”
“You mean about the holidays?”
“Some,” Harriett answered, and stirred sugar into her tea. This issue with Ruth Darling and the new man at church was a delicate one, and she’d decided to test the waters with her niece. “You realize I’m playing the piano for the Christmas program.”
“Yes, it’s very generous of you.”
“It is, but then I don’t see that I had much choice,” Harriett muttered, pinching her lips closed. “No one else seemed willing to step forward. It was the least I could do. No one seems to appreciate that if it wasn’t for me, the program would have been canceled this year.”
“You?”
“Why, yes,” Harriett said, holding Jayne’s gaze. “I was the only one of the women in the Martha and Mary Circle with the gumption to come up with someone who could take over the project. While it’s true, I suggested you as the leader, a natural choice, you being related to me and all. You’ve got your mother’s and my blood in your veins…it’s only natural for you to step in wherever you’re needed.”
“Reba Maxwell took over as the pageant director.”
“I know that,” Harriett snapped, “but you were the one who convinced her to do so.”
“But, if you’re concerned about the Christmas program…”
“It isn’t the pageant that concerns me.”
“It isn’t?”
Harriett took a tentative sip of her tea, eyeing her niece above the rim of the china cup. “I have a…delicate…prayer concern I want to share with you,” she said, lowering her voice. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted the children to overhear. “One that’s been burdening my heart for several weeks now.”