Frolic smiled, and his heart was breaking.
Remember, Sam. Remember and be at peace.
“Sam, I know you miss her—”
“Frolly, I’m not crying because I miss her.” He leaned a little forward and pointed to the sky. “It’s because I know how close I am to seeing her again. These are tears of joy.”
Now Frolic had to fight tears. He listened as Sam retold stories about the days he and Lori dated, as enthralled as the first time he’d heard them. Sam talked in detail about their long walks along Orchard Avenue admiring the graceful houses with deep, cool porches that looked out on sweeping lawns.
“Lori loved those old homes. It was on one of those walks that we first stood and admired the mayor’s house…. Oh, Lori got such a twinkle in her eye when she looked at that old, abandoned home. I can still hear her saying, ‘One day I can see myself on that porch, rocking my children to sleep and watching the town go by.’ I told her she better marry a rich man. You know what she said to me, Frolly?”
Frolic did, but he was happy to hear it again, so he shook his head.
“She said, ‘No, I just need a hard-working man with a great heart.’ She had such faith in me. Huh, a lot more than her father did, that’s for sure.”
Sam winced then shifted a bit in the bed, struggling to rearrange his pillow. Frolic reached over to adjust it for him. “Oh, yes, I remember. I had just gotten to know the Evans family in my first year at Resurrection. I think Jack had started his first term as state senator, and Margie was teaching ninth grade—”
“—and singing the national anthem at about every event in the county,” Sam said with a laugh. “Old Jack didn’t think much of me…‘a loner with little ambition and even fewer skills,’ I think is what he told Lori he thought of me. Man, he was a tough old bird.”
Frolic had had his own battles with Jack. “Yes, he was, but he came around. I’m not sure anyone in this town admired you more, Sam.”
Jack and Margie both came to love Sam. His unmistakable love for their daughter touched her parents deeply. “So do you remember when we first met, Sam? That day you were trying to replace the gutters on that old mansion?”
“Oh, yes, dear friend. I certainly do. You were there just in time to watch me fall…. It’s by the grace of God I didn’t break my neck falling off that ladder. That was one of many times that house nearly killed me.”
“I remember. Scared me to death. But we had such a great talk on the porch while you iced your shoulder. I knew then I’d found a real friend. That’s what you’ve been to me, Sam, the dearest friend a man, and a pastor, could ever have. I want you to know that.”
For the first time Sam’s gaze fixed on Frolic, and his countenance conveyed a depth of gratitude only a dying man can offer. That was enough for Frolic. That’s all he wanted; contentment and peace to sing in Sam’s heart in these last hours.
Time was slipping away, and Frolic wanted to fill each second.
“And you did finally get those gutters up.”
“Yup…with about every nail and coat of paint I would say to myself, ‘Sam, how is it that a nobody like you…is living in the mansion built by the wheat baron Clarence Fuller?’ You know, every mayor of Harvest lived in that house until Bill Hightower. He bought a new place out by the golf course…that beautiful old house sat empty for three years before we bought it, and it showed it. Everything needed to be replaced. Everything.”
“It took you both what, eighteen years, to restore it?”
“Twenty years! I can still remember the day Lori and I applied the last brushstroke of paint…I was just telling Walter about it the other day. You remember the ceremony the town put on for us, don’t you?”
Frolic nodded. He’d been on the board of the Chamber of Commerce when they voted to declare the manor a regional landmark. The house became a source of pride for the entire town and a monument to Sam and Lori’s patience, persistence, and loving care.
“You bought that house about the same time you started at the mission, is that right?”
“Yes, yes, it is. Two years after Lori and I were married, they called me to see if I would be interested in running the mission…. That was the start of over thirty years at that wonderful old place. How I loved every minute of it.”
“How many lives did you save over those years, Sam? Gotta be tens of thousands.”
Sam shook his head, his graying face mustering a frown. “Not one. You know as well as anyone, we don’t save a soul…. But I take a lotta joy in believing that God saved a bunch. We just did what we could…served a hot meal, offered a shower and prayed with those that would let us. We saw a lot of folks set the bottle aside or fight through the withdrawals from meth or other awful things. We saw some healed, some saved, some even transformed…. But so many others came and went and came back again. So much pain out there, Frolly, but I don’t have to tell you that.”
Sam paused, and Frolic saw his expression shift from calm to consternation.
“Do you think we made a difference?”
Frolic’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course you made a difference. More than you’ll ever know.” He laid his hand on Sam’s arm. “You may be the most beloved man in this county. I know you’ve always been a humble man, but I want you to hear me. You are leaving behind a legacy of lives changed forever because of you and the work of that mission. Are you hearing me?”
Sam’s breathing grew heavy, and Frolic jumped up and called for the nurse. She came into the room and checked one of the many tubes connected to Sam’s arms.
Frolic glanced at the doorway. Please, God…let Sam’s children show up soon. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Sam alone. Walter was on his way, too, but wouldn’t be there for a couple of hours.
The nurse finished her inspection, made a few adjustments, straightened Sam’s pillow and handed him his water.
“Keep drinking, Sam. As long as you feel up to it, you and the Reverend can keep talking.”
Thank heaven. Frolic let loose a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Do you want to go on?”
Sam took a long drink through the little straw then set the cup down and struggled to take a deep breath. His words were more labored, and he worked to form each one.
“Remember…when Alex was born?”
“Yes, Sam. It’s one of my favorite memories. And I remember when Anna was born, and Merideth and Reed. They were all great days.”
Frolic sat back down and drew close to Sam. “They’re great kids. You and Lori did a wonderful job raising them. I know they’ve gone down paths that have caused you a lot of pain, but they’ll find their way back. I want you to have peace in your heart regarding ’em, Sam.”
Sam struggled to turn toward Frolic.
“I want that, too. Frolly…. There’s something I want you to do for me.” Sam reached out and grabbed Frolic’s hand as his began to shake. “I want you to pray for Walter…I have left him with a great burden, and he could use your prayers.”
“Of course I’ll pray, Sam. And if I can be of any help—”
“Just pray…that will be enough.” Sam lay back and looked to the ceiling. “That’s all that’s needed now.”
Sam patted Frolic’s hand and leaned back. Then he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Frolic put his hands on Sam’s head and said a prayer. He adjusted the sheet, more in reverence than necessity, walked to the door and stopped for one last look. It wouldn’t be long now. Sam would open his eyes…
And he’d be with Lori.
The sound of voices outside his window pulled Frolic back to the present. He opened his eyes to see the last of the few faithful make their way up the sidewalk to the front door of the church.
Molly poked her head into his office. “Reverend, it’s time. And just so ya know, our four guests are here, all seated in the front row. It’s a sight, I’ll tell ya.”
Frolic took a few moments to collect himself then put on his suit coat, took one last look through his pa
pers, and followed Molly to the sanctuary.
chapter
Four
Alex looked down the aisle of Resurrection Christian Church.
His face was hot. Smile, just walk and smile.
He stiffened his spine and kept his gaze focused straight ahead, making his way to the first pew. He caught glimpses of familiar faces. And he smiled.
He took his seat next to the aisle and let a lung full of air escape through his lips. This was even harder than he’d expected.
Reverend Hastings emerged from the side of the altar and came down the three steps to the first pew. Alex stood, and Frolic offered his hand.
“Alex, it’s so good to have you back here. I’m sorry for your loss. I hope we can honor your father today as he would have wanted.”
Honor Dad, yes. Please keep the focus on him.
Alex accepted the handshake. “Dad probably wouldn’t have wanted a service at all, but I’m glad you’re here to help us through this.” He watched the pastor work his way down the pew to greet Anna. She remained seated, shoulders hunched, gazing at the ground. When Frolic offered his hand, she could only muster a weak, half-handed response. She struggled to look Frolic in the eye.
Anna, be strong. We’ll get through this.
Next, Frolic greeted Merideth who stood and gave her usual performance: a half-smile, overdone handshake, and an authoritarian tone to her greeting. Alex forced himself not to let his disapproval show.
When Reed stood and received the pastor’s greeting, his gaudy Rolex emerged from under Reed’s cuff-linked, tailored shirt. Alex stifled a sigh. His brother did love his clothes and gadgets.
As Alex sat down, he took a quick glance behind him. The church was filled to capacity, and deacons were scrambling to set up folding chairs in the aisle for the overflow.
This town really did love his dad. And his mom.
Alex managed to remain composed throughout the service, focusing on the hymns and readings. Three people got up to give short testimonials to his father’s influence in their lives. Alex fidgeted. Maybe he should’ve agreed to say something. He’d agreed to do so during a conference call with Frolic just a few days ago.
Merideth had wanted no part of it. “With all due respect, Reverend, I’m not standing up there and looking out on a church full of people who will be more interested in judging me than listening to what I might say about Dad.”
Anna had offered to speak for all of them, but Alex insisted if anyone should do so, it should be he, seeing as he was the oldest.
“I know your father would’ve been pleased to know you spoke for your siblings at the service,” Frolic said.
Merideth and Reed agreed.
He still didn’t know what happened. Fear, guilt, despair? Whatever it was, he hated the memory of his call to Frolic backing out.
I should’ve kept to the plan. I can’t believe none of us is going to say anything at Dad’s funeral.
He looked at Anna, and she returned the glance, disappointment flashing from her eyes. Alex shifted in his seat. Maybe he should just stand up and speak, even if it wasn’t on the schedule.
He tensed to stand—but then Frolic was at the pulpit, telling one of the familiar stories that marked Dad’s life.
“It was one of the most amazing sights these old eyes have seen in their sixty-seven years of life. There stood my dear friend, Sam Roberts—burgundy red paint dripping off his head and onto his shoulders, his face half-covered with smeared paint that had been rubbed off with a towel, his white teeth smiling and his blue eyes twinkling as he held his firstborn son in his arms. Oh, my goodness, what a sight it was.”
Laughter echoed through the sanctuary.
Dad had told that story a merciless number of times. How he’d been painting the molding in their dining room from the top rung of a ladder when his neighbor rushed in with the news that his wife had gone into labor while at a friend’s house and they had taken her to the hospital. Dad scurried down the ladder, kicking the last rung and tipping over an entire can of Sherwin Williams’ Mellow Merlot from its perch on the tray. The can missed his head. The paint did not. Doused in burgundy latex, Alex’s dad ran out of the house. But Alex’s mom had their only car, so he ran all seven blocks to St. John’s Hospital. He arrived, dripping in paint and sweat. Wiping latex from his face, he asked for his wife….
Alex could still see the way his dad’s eyes shone when he got to this part of the tale.
“Moments later, a nurse handed me a bundle of blankets that enfolded my firstborn son.” At that point, he’d beam a smile at Alex as he said, “Alex Daniel Roberts.”
Dad loved that story. He’d always stop there, get a big silly grin on his face and say, “My tears mixed with the paint, and my smiles turned to laughter. That’s a moment to remember.”
The paint stain on the dining room floor had never faded. Looking back now, Alex wasn’t sure his mom and dad really wanted it to.
Frolic went on to talk about their dad’s work at the mission, his civic spirit, and how much he missed their mom. Alex could hear the sounds of muffled crying all around him.
Anna broke into sobs off and on. Alex put his arm around her and drew her near. He glanced over at Merideth in time to see her steely exterior give way to a few tears that worked their way over her high cheekbones down to the corner of her mouth. She dabbed them away.
He shifted again. These pews were about as comfortable as a bed of nails! He hung his right arm down over the side, letting his fingers rest and then move along the face of the dark mahogany. They stopped at a gouge cut deep into the otherwise smooth surface.
Suddenly, a smile. He knew this mark. It was his. He’d chased Tracy Kolb through the sanctuary with a shovel. Tracy had thrown dirt on Alex’s head, so, of course, he’d had to get even. They were supposed to be digging weeds in the front flowerbed.
Dad had been roaring mad.
That memory stirred his heart. For the first time on this visit he began to look, really look, at the church that had been so much a part of his younger years.
Memories sparked and flooded back. Christmas pageants, potlucks, Vacation Bible School, his first communion…the memories brought a warmth to his face. As he glanced around, he saw something else. Eyes staring back at him.
Disapproving eyes.
His siblings probably saw and felt it as well. Quite the contrast to the warmth being poured out for their dad. His memories faded.
Soured.
Tears threatened again, but for an entirely different reason. He grew up in this church. It used to be his favorite place in town. Now…
He couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Merideth refused to look anywhere but straight ahead. No way would she make eye contact with anyone unless she had to.
Just stay calm and focused. That was the key.
Good thing she chose the business suit and not the green dress—although that dress looked stunning beneath her flowing red hair. But this was not the time to look feminine or frail. A power suit. Definitely the right choice.
Her stomach tightened. Dad wouldn’t have liked the suit…but then, he hadn’t liked much of her adult life. Well, at least she was consistent.
She waited for that to make her feel better. It didn’t.
Her gaze rested on the coffin at the front of the church.
I’m sorry, Dad. I guess I’ll never win this.
Pleasing him while pursuing a life contrary to his worldview had been impossible. But she never stopped wishing, hoping, even praying that somehow they could be closer. Like they once were.
Now you’re gone. Dad…I’m so sorry we ended this way. I’ll miss you….
She dabbed the wet spot near the corner of her mouth and followed the tear’s trail from her eye, trying to be inconspicuous.
Reed leaned close. “Steady, sis. Don’t break the image. Anna will cry enough for all of us.”
Nice. Why did he have to be such a jerk? She gave Anna’s arm a gentle squeez
e. What would it feel like to grieve so openly, to be so free, so uninhibited—?
Good night, what was she thinking?
How would it feel? Weak, that’s how.
She pulled away from her sister and left Anna to her mourning.
Throughout the service, Walt’s focus shifted between his grief and a study of the four people seated in front of him. He’d greeted them when they arrived just a few minutes before the service began. Alex was cordial but distracted. Walter could see the pain in his eyes. Anna gave him a warm hug, but she looked so frail. Merideth was polite but cool. Walt had hoped the history he’d had with her would be just that, history. Even so, her demeanor didn’t surprise him. Reed…was Reed, laid-back and friendly, but serious enough for the setting.
Sam’s children. They were finally here, all together. Too bad it took Sam’s death to make it happen.
He’d known them all from the time they were born. Now he would be with them on what he prayed would be the most important day of their lives.
The service lasted only an hour. It ended with the entire assembly standing and singing “Amazing Grace.” When the song was finished, Frolic left the altar and invited Sam’s four children to accompany him down the aisle. Alex led the way, and Walter followed them out. He was pleased to hear whispers from both sides of the aisle as Sam’s children passed.
“Bless you, children.”
“Glad you’re here.”
“Welcome back.”
Too bad the warm words mixed with disapproving looks and side comments as those assembled shook hands with the kids. Walter watched the four smile, trying to look as though they didn’t even notice people’s disapproval.
Walter walked outside and held open the door to the black limo rented for the occasion. The four siblings climbed in, and Walter joined them. The door closed with a click, and Merideth exploded.
“I can’t take these people! They look at us like we’re some sort of pariahs. How long will the graveside service take?”
The Four Gifts of the King Page 4