Nettie hung a pair of Elam’s pants on the clothesline and secured them with wooden clothespins. Monday was wash day. Beside her, Katie hung up one of Rachel’s gowns and reached into the basket for another. “I can’t continue living on your charity.” “Don’t worry about that,” Nettie mumbled around the clothespin she held in her mouth. She secured another pair of pants and said, “You’ve been a help to me. My wash is going twice as easy with your help.” Katie rolled her eyes. “You could do Monday wash with one hand tied behind your back.” Chuckling, Nettie said, “I’ve done it with one toddler on my hip and two at my ankles, but I appreciate your help anyway. I’m not as young as I used to be.” Picking up a pair of her own slacks, Katie said, “All I’ve done is add to your work.” “Your few pants and blouses add very little to my workload. You need more clothes.” Katie was thankful she had packed a few of her pre-pregnancy outfits in her suitcase. “If I keep eating your good cooking, I’m going to have to start wearing my maternity pants again.”
