The Divided Family by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page A

baby’s head. “I think he loves his aunt Elsie.”
    John began talking to Lester about how his trip went. Arlene liked to see the family all together. These were the special times that made life worth cherishing.
    “While you all visit, I’m going to slip into the kitchen and check on the chicken soup simmering on the stove. Once it’s thoroughly heated, we can set out the sandwiches Elsie brought and then call everyone to the table.”
    “Is there anything I can do to help?” Elsie asked.
    “No, that’s okay. You’re helping by keeping my baby entertained.”
    Arlene went to the kitchen. When she lifted the lid on the soup kettle, her mouth watered, and she inhaled deeply. Even when she was a girl, chicken noodle had been her favorite kind of soup. Her children liked it, too—especially Scott. Sometimes when she fixed it, he ate two or three bowls.
I’ll bet the delicious aroma of this soup will bring his appetite back tonight.
    A short time later, everyone sat around the table. After their silent prayers, Arlene dished up the soup, and the sandwiches were passed around.
    “I’m glad we kept our Christmas Eve meal simple,” Elsie said. “Tomorrow at our place, we’ll be eating a big meal, so I hope everyone comes hungry to help eat the large turkey John bought the other day.”
    “I’m looking forward to it.” Brian smiled at Doris. “How about you?”
    She nodded slowly. “I only wish I could do more to help with the meal.”
    “It’ll be taken care of,” Elsie said. “So don’t even worry about it.”
    “Mama, can I be excused?” Scott set his spoon down. “I’m not
hungerich
.”
    “You need to eat your soup, Son,” Larry said. “If you don’t, there will be no cookies or candy for dessert.”
    “I don’t care. My belly hurts, and I wanna go lie down.”
    Arlene looked at Larry, and when he nodded, she said, “Go on up, Scott. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
    Holding his stomach, Scott got up. Walking slowly, he left the room.
    “I’ll bet that boy has the flu.” Aunt Verna clicked her tongue and nudged her husband’s arm. “Sure hope the rest of us aren’t exposed to it now.”
    Glen shrugged his shoulders. “If we are, there’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s try to enjoy the rest of our meal.”
    As they continued to eat, the conversation around the table went from talking about the Christmas program at the schoolhouse, to the snowy weather, which had stopped as suddenly as it started.
    “Guess we won’t get to make any more snowballs.” Lillian’s chin jutted out. “I only got to make a few this morning before my toes got too cold.”
    Doug bumped his sister’s arm. “That’s ’cause ya didn’t wear heavy enough socks inside your boots.”
    Aunt Verna tilted her head in his direction. “Did you say something about a heavy box?”
    Uncle Lester looked at her and raised his brows.
    The children all snickered, while Doug shook his head. “I said
heavy socks
not
box.
”
    “Will Uncle Joel be at your house on Christmas Day?” Martha asked, looking at Elsie.
    “I don’t know. Aunt Verna invited him to come, but he may have other plans.”
    “It would be nice if Joel made an effort to be here to celebrate with the family tomorrow,” Uncle Lester said before taking a bite of his sandwich.
    “I hope he comes, ’cause if he brings his harmonica, it might make Scott feel better.” Martha paused for a drink of water. “He’s been wantin’ another lesson.”
    Arlene hoped for her nephew’s sake that Joel would join them, too. With it being Christmas, maybe he would be in a good mood. She remembered how much her brother enjoyed Christmas when he was a boy. Of course, they all had, but Joel talked about it nonstop for several days before the big event. Arlene had always thought it was the gifts they received on Christmas morning that Joel liked most of all. He would jump up and down and clap his hands every time someone handed him a gift. Dad used to