Free The Lopsided Christmas Cake by Wanda E. Brunstetter

outside, along with her umbrella. “All’s good,” she said before closing the door behind her.
    Elma put her umbrella behind the counter and saw a box of starter sticks to get a fire going. She’d also noticed a small pile of wood stacked outside by the side of the store. That must have been where Grandpa kept the wood they used for the stove.
    Elma finished lighting a few of the fire sticks she’d put inside the stove and sniffed. Glancing back at the stove, she noticed smoke coming out through the door, and also from the area where the pipe connected. Quickly, she ran to the bathroom and filled a jar with water. Dashing back to the stove, she doused the fire. Luckily, it hadn’t been burning long enough to make the stove or the pipe hot.
    Elma wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she detached the pipe where it connected to the stove then twisted it off at the top where it connected to another section that went through the store’s roof. “Let’s see if there’s anything blocking this straight part,” she muttered, holding the pipe up and looking through it. Elma shrieked as an empty bird’s nest fell onto the floor. Instinctively, she looked up the pipe, which was a big mistake. At that instant, a puff of soot swooshed onto her face.
    “Ach, no!” Elma sputtered, blowing a cloud of soot off her lips. “Just look at me. And look at my dress!” Running her hands over the front, smearing more dark powdery ash all over the material, all she could do was stand there with her mouth open.
    “What happened to you?” Thelma looked stunned as she came into the store.
    “I—I started to light the stove, and all this smoke poured out.” Elma swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Then, after I put out the fire, I took the pipe off and this fell out.” Holding up the bird’s nest and motioning to her dress, she grimaced. “You can see what happened next.”
    Thelma snickered; then her face sobered. “You’d better go back to the house, change out of that dress, and get washed up. While you’re gone, I’ll clean up in here. Hopefully I’ll have it done by the time you get back.”
    “Danki, Thelma. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

    When Elma returned to the store half an hour later, she was surprised to see Thelma standing behind the counter, smiling. “Surprise! It’s all done.” Thelma pointed to the stove. Not only had Thelma cleaned up the mess, but she had the stovepipe back on and a cozy fire going. “It should warm up quickly now.”
    Elma smiled. “Danki. You’re such a big help.”
    “By the way, what did you do with your dress?” Thelma asked.
    Elma sighed. “It’s soaking in a bucket of water in the utility room. I’m not sure if that poor dress will ever be the same; it’s such a mess. I may replace it with the new dress I still haven’t made. Of course,” she quickly added, “I have other work dresses I can wear.”
    “That’s true, and at least this all happened when there were no customers in the store. That could have been quite embarrassing.”
    “You’re right.” Elma couldn’t help giggling. She could only imagine how silly she must have looked, standing there with soot all over her while holding a bird’s nest.
    “Guess we’d better get busy,” Thelma said.
    Elma picked up a tablet, preparing to write down whatever needed to be ordered. She’d only made it to the first aisle, when Thelma came by. “I forgot to tell you. When I went to the phone shack I saw someone across the street looking at the house that’s for sale.”
    “Are they Amish or English?”
    “Amish. I saw them walking around the yard, and I noticed that the woman’s skirt is pleated.” Thelma’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Amish woman’s dress with pleats.”
    “She’s probably from the Graybill area,” Elma said. “Didn’t someone tell us that many of the Amish women who live there wear skirts like that?”
    Thelma tipped her