Adeline stood in the center of the room with a dusting of flour across her nose. Grace was bent over the table, laughing so hard that she could barely breathe. Samuel was attempting to wipe flour from Ruth's hair, while Ruth giggled and dodged him, clutching a wooden spoon like a sword.
“What happened here?” Caleb demanded.
Everyone froze.
Then Grace began laughing again.
“Ruth threw flour at Samuel!”
“I did not!” Ruth protested.
“You did!”
“It fell!”
“From where?”
Ruth looked up at the ceiling.
Caleb followed her gaze.
A small white cloud of flour hung from the rafters.
He closed his eyes.
Adeline pressed her lips together, but he could see the effort it took not to laugh.
“Would you care to explain?” he asked.
“I was teaching the children to make dumplings,” she replied with admirable composure. “The flour bag developed a weakness.”
Samuel pointed at Ruth.
“She shook it too hard.”
Ruth pointed at Samuel.
“He sneezed.”
“I did not!”
“You did!”
Caleb looked at the table, the floor, the children's hair, and the flour scattered across the counter.
Then he began to laugh.
It surprised him so completely that he had to lean against the doorframe. The children stared at him, then burst into fresh laughter. Adeline turned away, covering her mouth with one hand.
For several minutes, the kitchen was filled with a kind of happiness that had nothing to do with gifts, money, or the holiday. It was messy, loud, and imperfect.
It was alive.
When the laughter finally subsided, Caleb removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
“Very well. If the flour has decided to become part of the floor, I suppose we should at least make the dumplings.”
“You can cook?” Grace asked.
“I can survive.”
Adeline handed him a bowl.
“Then survival is what we'll attempt.”
They worked together until the meal was ready. Caleb kneaded the dough while Adeline prepared the broth, and Samuel carefully measured the flour that remained. Grace was assigned to shape the dumplings, though half of hers resembled stones, and Ruth was placed in charge of handing everyone clean spoons.
The kitchen grew warm.
Outside, the winter sun moved across the valley, shining on the white fields and the frozen creek.
For the first time in months, Caleb did not spend the afternoon counting the things he had lost.
He counted the people around his table instead.
That evening, after the children were asleep, he found Adeline sitting near the stove with her sewing basket in her lap. She was repairing one of Ruth's mittens, carefully closing a split seam with dark thread.