UNBROKEN PROMISE

~90~ Take A Break

Oma woke to the sound of soft giggles and the patter of small feet against the floorboards. Caleb’s laughter mingled with Cookie’s playful growl as the dog nosed around the bed, his tail thumping against the wall.

She smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to Caleb’s tousled hair. “Good morning, my love,” she murmured.

“Good mornin’, Aunt Oma,” he said between his giggles, hugging her neck.

She reached down to ruffle Cookie’s fur. “And good morning to you too, rascal.” Straightening, she brushed Caleb’s cheek with her hand. “Come, let’s get breakfast started.”

Caleb scrambled off the bed following her. On the windowsill, there was a small cup of black birch twigs, Oma plucked one, fraying its end with her teeth. Then she snapped off a smaller piece, softening the tip with her thumb.

She dipped the chewed end into a small crock that held a simple paste—lye made from ash mixed with coarse salt and a bit of sugar.

Caleb accepted it, mimicking her chewing. Oma, meanwhile, worked her own twig between her teeth, the bitter-salty mixture stinging faintly on her gums.

When they were done, she gave Caleb a tin cup of water. “Swish it around and spit it out by the door,” she instructed gently. He did so, wiping his mouth on his sleeve afterward.

Oma’s hand rested on his small shoulder as she guided him from the room.

When they got to the kitchen, Caleb laid on the floor and began dragging his twig along the floor, letting Cookie sniff at it.

Oma knelt by the stove, raking the ashes aside and set about coaxing the fire to life. Soon, the crackle filled the room, and the scent of rising heat softened the morning chill.

When the stove was well lit, Oma went to the basin to wash her face, then set about breakfast. She sliced the leftover bread from the night before and laid it near the stove to warm. In a skillet, she set ham to fry, the smell soon filling the room. But as she bent to turn the meat, a sudden wave of dizziness came over her. The room seemed to tilt, her vision swam, and she caught herself against the counter, one hand gripping the wood, the other pressed to her forehead q.

The door creaked open just then, letting in the cool morning air. Logan stepped inside, a pail of fresh milk swinging from his hand. He caught sight of her instantly, his face tightening with worry. Without a word, he strode over, setting the milk down beside her on the counter. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her close then kissing the crown of her head.

“What happened, darlin’?” His voice was low, thick with worry.

Oma shook her head faintly. “I don’t know… I just felt faint and weak all of a sudden.”

He kissed her cheek, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Nice an’ easy. Don’t you fret. You’re gonna sit down an’ rest today, hear? Don’t trouble yourself over nothin’.”

He guided her gently to the table and settled her into a chair. Then he turned to their nephew. “Caleb, sit yourself down now.”

Caleb nodded and obeyed, sliding into his place at the table while Cookie circled expectantly at his feet. Logan served up the food himself, setting the plates out before pouring a bit of the milk into a bowl for Cookie. The dog lapped noisily, tail wagging in approval.

With everything was set, Logan finally sat down at the head of the table. He took Oma's hand in his before bowing his head in prayer.

When they lifted their heads again, he served Oma first, then Caleb, then himself.