Do You Hear What I Hear?

by Margaret Brownley

  “I certainly hope not,” Sally said and laughed.

  Angel gave an apologetic shrug. “Call me old-fashioned but I don’t think an electronic device can replace a parent in the flesh and blood.”

  Sally nodded. “If that makes you old-fashioned, then I guess you could say we’re two of a kind.”

  Chapter 9

  Late that afternoon, Sally entered the school’s multipurpose room and spotted Mrs. Greenwell at the old upright piano, her head nodding up and down in time to the music. A group of children including Toby stood on stage, their thin high voices raised in song.

  Do you hear what I hear?

  Sally chose a chair at the back of the room so as not to disturb the singers. Sitting there was like stepping back in time. The room had the same nondescript-colored walls and floor she recalled from her youth. Similar dark curtains hung on either side of the stage. Even the piano looked and sounded familiar.

  Mrs. Greenwell hadn’t seemed to change much, either. Her hair was now completely white, but she still wore it in a tight knot on top of her head. Sally couldn’t be certain but it sure did look like the same granny shoes pumped the pedals of the old piano.

  The song ended and Sally rose to her feet, clapping. Mrs. Greenwell turned. At first she didn’t seem to recognize Sally, but then suddenly her eyes lit up.

  “Why, Sally Cartwright. It’s about time you showed your face around here. Come over here. Let me look at you.” Mrs. Greenwell greeted Sally with a warm hug.

  “I told Toby’s grandmother I’d bring him home,” Sally explained. “Is he done for the day?”

  “We have one more run-through, but it shouldn’t take long. I don’t think I’ve ever had a child so determined to get his part right.”

  “I know. He practices all the time.” She hesitated, not sure how much she should say. “His father is in Colorado.”

  “I know. Poor child.” Mrs. Greenwell’s eyes had a faraway look. “Toby reminds me of someone else I know.”

  Sally blushed at the memory. She was only ten the year her father walked out on the family. When she took the stage that long-ago December dressed in her angel costume, she searched for him in the audience. When he wasn’t there she burst into tears. She still felt guilty for causing such a scene.

  “I ruined your whole pageant and I’ve never forgiven myself.”

  Mrs. Greenwell’s expression softened. “Actually, you didn’t ruin anything. In fact, that was one of the most successful pageants I ever had.”

  “I don’t know how you can say that.” Standing on stage, she had sobbed so hard she scared the younger children to tears. The pageant halted for nearly half an hour until everyone calmed down.

  Mrs. Greenwell smiled. “Do you remember Johnny Hauser?”

  “Wasn’t he the klutzy one who fell off the stage?”

  “Yes, indeed. At the time of that pageant, his mom and dad were getting a divorce. But when they saw what your parents’ separation did to you, they decided to work things out.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s true. As a matter of fact, they recently celebrated their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Now you know why I call that my most successful pageant.”

  “I didn’t know.” Sally shook her head in wonder. “I’m glad something good came out it.”

  “Come to think of it, nothing good ever happened when everything went right. The only time I saw God’s hand at work was when things went wrong,”

  Sally smiled. Mrs. Greenwell meant well, of course, but Sally had stopped believing in miracles years ago, when her prayers failed to bring back her father.

  “You are coming to my surprise retirement party, aren’t you?” Mrs. Greenwell asked, changing the subject.

  Sally laughed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  The teacher looked pleased. They hugged again just as Toby’s voice shot from the stage. “DO NOT BE AFRAID . . .”

  Mrs. Greenwell smiled and whispered in her ear. “Do you hear what I hear?”

  Sally sighed. “Oh, yes, I hear it,” she said. How in heaven’s name could she not?

  * * *

  She was still waiting for Toby to finish rehearsing his part when the door to the multipurpose room opened and in walked Rick, hauling what looked like a manger.

  He set the wooden trough in the aisle. Taking the seat next to her, he smelled of newly cut pine and fresh mountain air. His arm brushing against hers gave her a pleasant jolt.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he whispered, his warm breath smelling like peppermint. He patted the wooden crib by his side. “Think this is strong enough to hold a plastic doll?”

  “I believe it’s strong enough to hold a baby gorilla,” she whispered back.

  He grinned and it was all she could do not to press a finger to his dimple.

  “Guess you could say I got carried away.” He hesitated. “I know it’s late, but have you had lunch? There’s a new deli in town and they have great bratwurst. You wouldn’t prove it by me, but I hear they also have great salads.”

  “Thank you, but I promised to take Toby back to the inn.”

  “How about Monday?” His gaze locked with hers. As if to guess her thoughts he added, “It’s not a date or anything. Just a lunch between friends.”

  Her heart gave a little nervous quiver. Hadn’t Billy Crystal character’s Harry said something like that to Meg Ryan when he invited her out?

  “Yes, of c-course,” she stammered, her mouth suddenly dry. She forced a smile. “Just friends.”

  “Noon okay?”

  Three o’clock in the morning would be okay. “Y-yes, noon’s fine.”

  Her phone rang, breaking the awkwardness that suddenly settled between them. Quickly grabbing it so it wouldn’t bother Toby, she glanced at the screen. It wasn’t the studio as she’d hoped. Instead, it was the Raising Cane Care Center.

  She lifted the phone to her ear, each word from the other line sinking her spirits further. The news wasn’t good. Nana was giving the care workers a hard time again.

  “I’ll be right there,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  Ending the call, she turned back to Rick, only to find an empty seat.

  Chapter 10

  Sally stood in the visitors’ restroom of the Raising Cane Care Center talking on the phone to Angel. “I should have Toby home within the hour. I had to make a quick stop by the care center, and—”

  Angel cut her off, sweetly. “Take your time.”

  Sally was still on the phone to Angel when she heard something that made her gasp. “Oh, no!”

  Bing Crosby singing “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” had nothing on Toby, whose voice shot along the halls of the Raising Cane Care Center like a siren. “AND THERE WERE SHEPHERDS LIVING OUT IN THE FIELDS . . .”

  “Is that Toby I hear?” Angel asked in her ear.

  “Yes, yes, it is,” Sally said. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Stuffing her phone in her purse, Sally hurried out of the restroom and sprinted down the hall, praying that her grandmother wouldn’t hurt the little boy’s feelings. Nana could be outspoken, blunt, and opinionated, but she was never unkind to children and Sally had thought it safe to leave the two of them alone for a few minutes while she used the restroom and called Toby’s grandmother. Big mistake.

  Sally rushed into Nana’s room. Toby stood at the foot of the bed reciting his part at the top of his lungs.

  She shushed Toby with a finger to her mouth. “You mustn’t . . .”

  She hadn’t noticed Mr. Williams sitting in the corner chair until he hushed her. “Shh. Can’t you see the boy is doing something important here?” He encouraged Toby to keep going with a wave of his hand.

  As if Toby needed encouragement.

  Nana sat with her back pressed against the headboard. Clutching the edge of her blanket to her chest, she stared at Toby like a wide-eyed heroine in a horror movie.

  Toby finished his piece and took a bow. Mr. Williams
clapped. “That was terrific. A regular Laurence Olivier.” As an aside, he said, “I used to be a stage actor so I know these things. I could hear him even with my hearing aid turned off.”

  Sally smiled at the elderly man and introduced him to Toby. Mr. Williams took Toby’s hand in both of his. “Pleased to meet you, young man.”

  “Do you want to hear me say my part again?” Toby asked.

  “That would be splendid,” Mr. Williams said.

  Sally cast a worried look at her grandmother. “We should leave.”

  “Nonsense.” Seating himself, Mr. Williams motioned with waggling fingers for Toby to begin.

  Toby repeated his part for the third time—and then a fourth. Nana eyed the window as if looking for a means of escape.

  No sooner had Toby reached the end of his part than he asked, “Do you want to hear me say it again?”

  “No!” came a chorus of voices from down the hall.

  “Don’t listen to them,” Mr. Williams whispered as if he and Toby were planning some sort of conspiracy. “I’d like to hear it again and I’m sure Mrs. Cartwright would, too.”

  Nana made no effort to hide the pained disapproval on her face. “I’m sure the boy would rather be playing with his Zbox or something.”

  “Xbox,” Sally said.

  Mr. Williams winked at Sally and ran his finger across his mustache. “I don’t imagine it would hurt to put off your physical therapy for a little longer while this young man says his part again.”

  Nana shot visual daggers at him. “Send Anna in. Now!”

  * * *

  Monday, December 12

  The Hoagie’s Heroes Deli was crowded with Christmas shoppers, but Sally spotted Rick seated at a window booth the moment she stepped foot inside. Even dressed in his usual flannel plaid shirt, boots, and jeans, he somehow managed to stand out.

  He greeted her with a crooked smile and stood until she was settled upon the shiny red vinyl seat opposite his. She felt as anxious as a girl on her first date—and that was downright annoying. Maybe Harry was right when he met Sally: Maybe men and women couldn’t be friends. Maybe they shouldn’t even be in the same room together.

  After rearranging the condiment tray, she picked up her menu. “Everything looks good,” she said, perusing the selections as if her life depended on it.

  “You can’t beat the corned beef on rye,” he said.

  A female server took their drink order. Soda for him, hot tea for her, and suddenly there was nothing left to do but figure out how to relax and enjoy her meal.

  She moistened her lips. Friends, friends, friends. In an effort to compose herself she raised her gaze to the painting over his head. The field of daisies would make a great spring cover, but definitely needed something more. Two lovers racing to each other with arms outstretched was the first thing that came to mind, but that had been done so many times it was now a cliché. A family running through the daisies together might work. Or maybe a man and a woman kissing in the rain . . .

  The last thought jerked her back to reality and she lowered her gaze to find Rick intently studying her. “I have a favor to ask,” she blurted out, inhaling deeply to calm her rampant pulse. “It involves Toby’s father.”

  He sat back. “If you’re asking me to rehire him—”

  She shook her head. Her days of interfering with the Talbot Lumber Mill were over.

  “He’s flying in for the pageant.”

  He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “How did you manage that?”

  “What makes you think I did?”

  “I know the family’s hurting for money.”

  She reached for her paper napkin and unwrapped the silverware. At first Angel hadn’t wanted to accept her offer to help. But after Sally explained how her own father had missed her pageant, Angel relented and took the money. Insisting that her son-in-law would never accept a handout, Angel said she would make up some story so it didn’t seem like charity. She also agreed to keep Sally’s name out of it.

  Sally laid her knife and fork side by side. “It just seemed . . . like the right thing to do. Toby really wants his father here.” She raised her gaze to his. “There’s only one flight available from Denver and it’s cutting the time really short. I need you at the airport when he arrives to make sure he gets to the school on time.”

  “You do know that another storm is headed this way, right?”

  She did know that, and that’s what worried her. “If anyone can get through a blizzard, it’s you,” she said. “Remember—” She clamped her mouth shut but it was too late. Something in his eyes told her he remembered the night of the senior winter formal in spades.

  “I’ll never forget the look on your face when I drove up in a logging truck,” he said after a moment, his voice husky.

  Heat rose to her face. They’d arrived at the high school only to find that the dance had been canceled due to bad weather.

  Recalling how his kisses more than made up for her disappointment that night, she knotted her hands on her lap.

  “You have to admit that was a bit much.” Her lashes flew up and she quickly clarified, “The logging truck.”

  His eyes darkened with some indefinable emotion. “It got us there on time.”

  “For all the good it did.”

  They were saved from the trip down memory lane by the server. She placed their drinks on the table and whipped out her order pad. Rick went with the corned beef; Sally chose the vegetarian salad.

  She waited till they were alone again. “Now, about Toby’s father. . . .”

  “I’ll see that Sam gets to the school on time,” he said.

  She drew in her breath. “Thank you.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “If I could hire him back I would,” he said.

  “I know, Rick.” She looked away. She hated that he could still make her heart act up, even in a crowded restaurant.

  After a short wait, the server brought their meals and, grateful for the diversion, Sally dived right in. After discussing how the town had changed in her absence, Rick brought her up to date on the old gang. Most were now married with children.

  “So how do you like Los Angeles?” he asked, between bites.

  She eagerly grabbed the lifeline he’d sent. “It’s okay,” she said and launched into an overly long description of confusing freeways and crazy traffic. Catching herself beginning to ramble, she said, “I miss the seasons.”

  “Still a tree hugger?” he asked.

  She stabbed an olive with her fork. “In Los Angeles?” She gave a nervous laugh. He would have to bring up trees. “The last time I went to hug a tree, I discovered it was a cell tower.”

  He laughed, too. “We have those here in Oregon. The problem is, they don’t always look like local trees. One even resembles a palm.”

  “I guess that makes up for the one in Hollywood disguised as a ponderosa,” she said.

  Rick said something but a high-pitched female squeal drowned out his voice.

  “Sally Cartwright! Is that really you?”

  The voice belonged to Mandy Morris. Sally drew a napkin to her mouth before rising to give her old friend a hug. “How nice to see you.” Mandy hadn’t changed a bit and still wore her red hair in a ponytail.

  Mandy’s wide-eyed gaze jumped back and forth between Rick and Sally. “I didn’t know you two were still a couple.”

  Sally felt her face flare. “Oh, no, we’re just friends.” Mandy looked unconvinced, so Sally quickly added, “I’m only in town for a short time.”

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “You can take my seat,” Rick said, standing. “I have to get back to work.” He picked up the tab and headed for the cashier.

  Sally watched him thread his way through the crowded deli to the front counter. Swallowing her disappointment at seeing him go, she turned her attention back to her friend.

  Mandy quickly took Rick’s place opposite Sally. Arms on the table, she leaned forward. “So what’s really g
oing on with you and Rick?”

  Chapter 11

  Wednesday, December 14

  Two days later as Sally was getting ready for that night’s pageant, she got an urgent call from Raising Cane. Nana was throwing another temper tantrum. This time she refused to eat.

  Sally checked her watch before grabbing her coat and dashing out of her room and down the stairs.

  Outside the inn it was already dark, and dense sheets of snow fell. Her heart plummeted. What if the airport was closed and Toby’s father’s plane couldn’t land? Or the roads were blocked and Rick couldn’t get through?

  Shaking her thoughts away, Sally cut through the town square with its twinkling lights and hurried up the street, her boots crunching against the fresh-fallen snow. What little traffic remained had slowed to a crawl.

  At the care center, a young receptionist greeted her from behind the front desk with a look of pity. Without bothering to sign in, Sally rushed through the double doors leading to the corridor. Already she could hear her grandmother’s grating voice.

  “I told you, I’m not eating that garbage!”

  In the corridor outside Nana’s room, Sally counted to ten. Plastering a smile on her face, she sailed through the doorway just as a tray of food flew off the bedside table, splashing tomato soup everywhere.

  The young female attendant stared at the splattered floor with rounded eyes.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Sally said, grabbing a handful of paper napkins off the tray. She waited for the woman to take her leave before turning to her grandmother. “Why are you acting so difficult?”

  Her grandmother didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Why are they forcing me to eat that . . . that horrible stuff? I broke my hip, not my stomach. How do they expect a person brought up on castor oil and quinine to survive on a tasteless diet?”

  Sally bent over to wipe the floor. “Nana, I don’t have time for this.” She tossed the wet napkins in the wastepaper basket. “The Christmas pageant is due to start in less than an hour, and I don’t want to miss Toby’s performance.”