“Which reminds me, I might take the pony cart over to see Cousin Verena after dishes are done,” Susie told them. “If that’s okay with you, Mamma.”

Britta eyed Susie. “I’d be glad to stay here with Mamma.”

“Don’t you worry over me. A little rest is all I need.” Mamma sipped more tea, then ran the back of her hand across her brow.

“Ach, you should’ve let us make supper,” Susie said, “’cept that no one makes better dumplings.”

“Say, that’s another idea: We could sell ready-made dinners at the shop,” Britta said. She looked at them as if eager for a response.

“Mamma’s a gut cook, for certain, but that’s too much extra work,” Susie pointed out.

“Those syrupy popcorn balls of yours were sure a wunnerbaar idea, though—they’re nearly as popular as the peanut butter spread,” Mamma said. “People have even stopped by just for those and ended up buyin’ other things.”

“We’re doin’ all right with the money from my cross-stitch sales and Britta’s babysitting money from the Ebersols—and, of course, the check Allen sends each month,” Susie mentioned, her gaze on her mother.

“The Lord has provided.” Mamma reached again for the chamomile tea she always drank with raw honey. “He’s met our every need.”

Britta rose and carried the leftovers to the counter while Mamma stayed at the table with her tea.

Susie reached over to put her hand on her mother’s. “I think you might need to take a break from cookin’ for a day or two.”

Mamma’s eyebrows rose. “I just wanted to surprise yous.”

Susie squeezed her hand. “Denki.”

Britta returned to clear the rest of the table. “One of your best meals, Mamma,” she said, and Susie agreed.

“You don’t have to help clean up the dishes, Susie,” Britta told her. “Go an’ have your visit with Cousin Verena.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Susie promised.

“Just glad to see ya so happy,” Britta replied mischievously.

Now Mamma was studying Susie again but good.

“I shouldn’t be gone long,” Susie said as she rose from the table, eager to be heading out.

“Take your time, dear.” Mamma gave her a knowing look.

There’s no hiding anything from Mamma, thought Susie.

“Ain’t one bit surprised to hear it,” Cousin Verena said when Susie told her about Obie’s letter as they sat on the front porch swing.

“Well, I’d actually wondered if he’d remember to write once he left.”

“After all the years you’ve known each other?” Verena shook her head. “Nee, Obie’s a loyal friend.”

“Del Petersheim wrote, too, inviting me out for supper,” Susie mentioned.

Verena nodded. “Interesting.”

Susie agreed and changed the subject. “Say, I never told ya, but Obie asked me earlier this spring what I thought ’bout him workin’ in Sugar Valley,” Susie said. “He really wanted my opinion.”