Erna watched her sister depart, and she turned a critical eye to the dollhouse, thinking there was more to be done.
She fetched a small basket of colorful scraps and settled by the window where the light was generous. Threading a needle, she began the meticulous work of fashioning miniature garments for the wooden dolls. Her nimble fingers found the task challenging. The tiny collars and cuffs tested her patience. But the satisfaction of seeing the dresses take shape spurred her on, each delicate stitch a promise of added value to the little house.
“Imagine,” Erna whispered to herself, picturing a child’s delight, “a complete family, all dressed up and nowhere to go but someone’s loving home.” She let out a soft chuckle, her heart swelling at the thought. Each tiny button sewn, every minuscule hem folded, brought her closer to fulfilling that dream—for the dollhouse and perhaps, in some small way, for herself.
ERNA STOOD IN FRONTof the stove, the simmering aroma of beef stew filling the kitchen. She hummed a cheerful tune, her spoon stirring through the thickening broth with an easy rhythm. Joel leaned against the doorway, watching her sway gently to the music in her head.
“Joel, you won’t believe how excited Faith was to see the dollhouse,” Erna said without turning, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “She’s invited us for Sunday dinner this Sunday after church, and we’re having dinner at their place.”
“Is that so?” Joel pushed himself off the frame, his boots clicking on the wooden floor as he approached. He rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling the warmth from the stove on his forearms.
“Uh-huh. It’ll be nice to sit down with them, don’t you think?” Erna glanced up at him, her eyes shining with excitement. “I can’t wait to meet Kane properly.”
Joel grinned, his thumb brushing against her collarbone. “You’re all lit up like the Fourth of July. It’s good seeing you so happy.”
“Faith is thinking up some kind of surprise,” she continued, stirring the pot once more before covering it. “She wouldn’t spill a bean about it, but I reckon it’s something wonderful.”
“Does Faith have a knack for surprises?” Joel’s grin widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, then, Sunday it is. I’m sure whatever she’s planning will be worth the wait.”
“Absolutely,” Erna agreed, leaning back into his embrace for a moment before she checked on the cornbread in the oven. “And with your stories and her plans, it’s bound to be an afternoon to remember.”
“Stories, huh? I suppose I better think up a few good ones then,” Joel teased, releasing her as she pulled out the golden-brown loaf.
“Only the best,” Erna shot back playfully, placing the bread on the counter. “For my sister and her new husband.”
“Only the best,” Joel echoed, his smile lingering as he watched Erna move about the kitchen.
ERNA SCRAPED THE LASTof the gravy onto her plate, savoring the rich flavors of the hearty stew she’d made. Joel sat across from her, his fork pausing mid-air as he watched her with a fondness that warmed her more than the summer heat outside.
“Joel, would you like the last biscuit?” Erna offered, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
“I’m fuller than a tick on a hound,” Joel chuckled, pushing his plate away. “But I wouldn’t say no to watching you work on those little clothes.”
Erna’s eyes twinkled as she stood to clear the table, her hands deftly stacking the dishes. “You sure know how to charm a lady,” she teased, shaking her head at his country wit.
“Only my lady,” Joel retorted, standing up to help her. Together, they made quick work of the cleanup, moving in an easy rhythm.
Once the kitchen was tidy, Erna retrieved the miniature garments and the dollhouse from the parlor, setting them out on the table where they ate. She threaded a needle with practiced ease, her fingers nimbly folding the tiny fabric into a dress fit for the smallest of wooden ladies.
“Let me try something,” Joel said, reaching for a block of wood and a carving knife. He began to shape it, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he worked to create a small feline companion for the dollhouse family.
“Look at you, making a cat,” Erna laughed softly, her gaze flitting between her sewing and his crafting. “Who knew you had such a soft touch?”
“Learned from the best,” Joel replied without looking up, his focus intent on getting the ears just right.
They worked side by side, the only sounds in the room the occasional snip of Erna’s scissors and the scrape of Joel’s knife. As twilight deepened into night, Erna held up a finished blue gingham dress, satisfaction beaming in her eyes.
“Isn’t it just the cutest thing?” she cooed, holding the dress up against one of the dolls.
“Sure is,” Joel agreed, holding up his creation. “And this cat isn’t half bad either.”
“Better than half bad, I’d say,” Erna corrected him, admiring the tiny leather cat. “You’ve got quite the talent, Mr. Trinity.”
“Guess we make a good team, huh?” Joel said, his tone affectionate and proud.
“Best team there is,” Erna responded, her heart full.
The clock chimed late, and they realized the hour had slipped away from them. They tidied their crafts with reluctant hands, neither wanting to end the simple joy of creating together.
“Time for bed, I guess,” Joel observed, stretching his arms above his head.
“Seems so,” Erna replied, stifling a yawn.
Erna slid under the covers while Joel turned down the lamp. The darkness enveloped them like a blanket, but it was the shared gratitude that truly embraced them.
“Goodnight, Erna,” Joel whispered, his voice low and soothing.
“Goodnight, love,” Erna murmured back. The word hung in the air, simple yet profound.
