The Gathering Place

by Thomas Kinkade

  “The Messenger,” she answered automatically.

  “Hello, Messenger,” a familiar voice replied. “What’s new?”

  “Luke?” Sara sat up and held the phone closer to her ear. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Boston, visiting my family,” he replied, sounding casual and relaxed.

  “Yes . . . Ezra told me that,” Sara said, in a halting tone. It felt so strange to be talking to him like this, after their last talk had ended so badly.

  “I need to see the New Horizons people about a few things, so I’m staying here for the rest of the week,” he told her.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Sara said automatically. She knew he had gone to the city, but thought he might be back by now. It sounded as if he would be staying in Boston through New Year’s, but she didn’t want to ask him outright. “How was your Christmas?” she said instead.

  “Not so bad. How was yours? Did you have a good time with Emily?”

  “It was great. Even better than I expected.”

  “How about your parents? How is that going?”

  All things considered, she was surprised that he even remembered that her parents were going to visit. “They’ll be here tomorrow. It’s too bad you’re not around. I wanted you to meet them,” she admitted.

  He didn’t reply at first, and she wondered if her comment had surprised him. “Are you going to spend New Year’s Eve with them?” he asked at last.

  “Uh, no. They’ll be gone by then,” she said, wondering why he asked. Did he want to get together with her for New Year’s Eve, after all? “I really don’t have any plans. Well, someone in my office is giving a party. I might go to that.”

  “Oh, a party. That sounds good.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going. I won’t really know anyone except for the people from the office.” She really meant Wyatt, but she didn’t want to risk irritating Luke by mentioning him by name. “Will you be back by then?” she asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. A lot of old friends are around this week. I’ve been pretty busy running around, catching up. I might get together with some of them, I guess,” he said vaguely.

  So he was staying in Boston for New Year’s Eve. “Sounds like you’re having fun.”

  “It’s been a good break. Good to be back in Boston again. It can get a little too quiet out there in the winter.”

  “Yes, it can,” Sara agreed. She suddenly felt alone, out in the middle of nowhere, while he was having fun in the city with all his old friends. His cheerful tone made her feel as if he hadn’t really been thinking of her at all.

  “By the way, thanks for that present you left on my car. That was great. Thanks a lot.”

  “No problem. I thought you might like it.” She felt an unexpected flush of embarrassment for giving it to him. As if she’d overdone it. If he’d gotten her a gift, now was the time to mention it, she thought. But he didn’t say a word.

  “Sorry, but I have to go,” she said, forcing an urgent note into her tone. “Thanks for calling. It was good to hear from you.”

  “Good to talk to you, too, Sara,” he said. “See you when I get back, okay?”

  “Sure, see you.” She hung up the phone, feeling like she might cry. Why had Luke called at all? To thank her for the gift—or just to show that there were no hard feelings? To show her that he’d gotten over her already, she realized with a sinking heart.

  She started as she realized Wyatt was standing by her desk. “It’s so quiet here, I’m about to fall asleep. Would you like to go out and get some fresh air, get some lunch maybe?” he asked.

  Sara glanced up at him. Wyatt’s wide smile and dark blue eyes seemed to instantly distract her from her blues. Lunch with Wyatt, the perfect remedy. That will get my mind off you real fast, she silently told Luke.

  “Sure, I’d love to,” Sara said, smiling. She barely noticed Lindsay walking up to them.

  “How are you doing with those spreadsheets, Sara? I’m ready to start working on them.” Lindsay’s tone was pleasant but firm.

  “I have a ways to go, actually,” she confessed. The task had been so dull and the office so quiet, she’d been working at a snail’s pace.

  “Can she finish this afternoon?” Wyatt asked. “Or do you really need this stuff?”

  “Oh, does she need to cover a story?” Lindsay asked curiously.

  “Uh, no . . . just go out to lunch,” Wyatt replied honestly. He glanced at Sara, with a small smile. Sara noticed Lindsay looking at her, too, and Sara suddenly felt self-conscious.

  “Well, the problem is I have an appointment this afternoon, and I wanted to finish this today. Our accountant is coming in tomorrow, remember? There are lots of calls to make, too,” she said, looking meaningfully at her brother. That was one thing Sara knew Wyatt hated and left to Lindsay.

  “I can help you with that. There’s not much else going on,” Wyatt said. He looked back at Sara with a regretful smile. “Guess we’re both grounded. I’ll call out to the Clam Box if you guys want anything,” he offered.

  “Thanks, but Scott made me some lunch. Smoked mozzarella and roast chicken with pesto on a baguette, I think,” Lindsay said vaguely, as she strolled away.

  “Not on the menu at the Clam Box, in case you wanted the same,” Wyatt commented dryly to Sara.

  She laughed. “Let me think about it. I’ll let you know in a minute,” she told him, with a smile.

  “All right, I know it’s a tough decision. And don’t forget, you have a rain check on that lunch date.”

  “Okay. I won’t,” Sara promised. She turned back to her work, but her mind returned to Luke, and she felt an unexpected wave of guilt. She angrily pushed the thoughts aside.

  Wyatt liked her. He was trying to let her know it, too. And she was free to see whomever she liked now, she reminded herself. Wasn’t that what Luke’s phone call was all about?

  “I’M SURE EMILY WILL BE HERE IN A MINUTE,” SARA SAID, AS SHE NOTICED her father sneaking another look at his watch. “Maybe she got held up at the office or something. Everyone in town is always calling her.”

  “Yes, she’s a very important person around here. We’ve heard all about that.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be along in a minute. We got here a little early, I think,” Sara’s mother told him. “It’s fine, Sara. This is a lovely restaurant you picked out.”

  “Yes, very pretty,” her father said. “Very . . . New England.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I’ve never actually eaten here. But Emily thought it would be nice.”

  Sara saw her parents exchange a quick look. They had arrived in Cape Light yesterday, and Sara didn’t think she’d talked about Emily that much. But apparently, they thought she had.

  “Well, everything in this inn seems quite authentic,” her mother said, trying to smooth things over again.

  “It’s been here forever. You should see this place on the Fourth of July. They have this huge reenactment in town. There’s a battle on the village green, and they bring the wounded soldiers back here during the retreat. I mean, the guys who are acting like wounded soldiers. Then everyone has a big party.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun. But we have some wonderful reenactments down in Maryland, too. We took you down to one when you were about ten or eleven. Don’t you remember?” her father asked.

  “I think so, Dad,” Sara replied evenly. She noticed that her father had emptied the bread basket. He waved to the waiter to bring another.

  “Mike, you won’t be hungry for dinner if you keep eating bread,” her mother said quietly.

  “Are you kidding? I’m starving. Where is this woman?”

  “Emily,” Sara corrected him.

  Her father met her gaze and nodded. “Yes, Emily. Emily Warwick. I remember, don’t worry.”

  “Do you think you’ll still be in Cape Light this summer, Sara?” her mother asked.

  “Yes, what are your plans these days, honey?” her father said, in his familiar, heart-to-heart-chat
tone.

  Sara had expected that question. If fact, she was surprised it had taken them a full twenty-four hours to get around to asking it.

  “Oh, not much different than when I saw you at Thanksgiving. I really like working on the paper. That’s been great so far.”

  Sara had brought her parents over to the Messenger office during the day, and they had met Wyatt, Lindsay, and Jane, who had returned from Maine.

  “Well, you are getting some good experience and training,” her father said. “A few more months and you can look for a spot on a bigger paper. Maybe the Times-Courier,” he added, mentioning a paper back home. “I have a client there. He can help you.”

  “Maybe.” Sara reached for her water glass and took a long icy sip. “That might be a while, though. I feel as if I just got started here.”

  Her mother looked distressed by the news but only said, “Pass the bread, will you, dear?”

  Sara caught sight of Emily standing at the entrance to the dining room. Sara waved to her, and Emily quickly came over.

  “So sorry I’m late,” she said in her most charming manner. “I tried to call from the car, but my phone battery went dead. Isn’t that always the way? I hope you’re not sitting here starving.”

  “No, not at all. Please, sit down, Ms. Warwick.” Her father rose and politely pulled out a chair for Emily, seating her between himself and Sara.

  “Please, call me Emily,” she said. She smiled at Sara’s mother.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Emily. I’m Laura, and this is my husband, Mike,” Laura Franklin said.

  “A beautiful little town you’ve got,” Mike Franklin said. “Sara showed us all around today.”

  “The beach and the lighthouse are just breathtaking,” Laura added. “So unspoiled. It must be wonderful to be the mayor of a place like this.”

  “It’s a great place,” Emily said, with a smile. “Sara tells me it reminds her a lot of Winston.”

  “Why, yes . . . I guess it is something like our town,” Sara’s father agreed. “Winston is a pretty place, off the beaten track. We like it,” he said, glancing at his wife and Sara.

  Emily smiled again, her campaign smile, Sara noticed. She was wearing one of her campaign outfits, too, a slate-blue suit with a long jacket that belted at the waist. Even her hair looked a bit more carefully styled than usual. She looked polished and professional, as if she were introducing herself to a group of voters, Sara thought. And she seemed to be trying just as hard to win over the Franklins.

  “So,” Emily said, “I understand you’re a teacher there, Laura?”

  Her mother answered Emily’s questions, clearly making an equal effort to be gracious. Sara listened to the three of them exchange small talk and predictable pleasantries throughout most of the meal. Even her father remained on his best behavior.

  By the time their waiter cleared the dinner dishes, Sara thought it wasn’t going badly, despite her apprehensions. Yet, there was a subtle tension between her parents and Emily, and Sara felt as if she were in the middle, being tugged to either side by invisible threads.

  “. . . naturally, we wondered why it took her so long once she got here. But Sara has to do things her own way. She’s her own person. We understand that,” Sara’s mother said.

  “That’s the way we raised her. She has her own opinions about things. That’s a trait you want to see in a child, and yet, sometimes it makes things hard when you’re a parent,” her father told Emily.

  Emily’s smile looked a bit stiff, but she nodded in agreement.

  “I remember when Sara was about four years old. I took her and a group of her friends to the beach, and I had them in line to buy lunch. Every child in that line ordered a hot dog and a Coke. A hot dog and a Coke, right down the row,” Laura said. “But we got to Sara, and she just looked up at me and said, ‘Do they have peanut butter and chocolate milk?’ She wanted peanut butter. She didn’t care if every other kid in the world was eating a hot dog.”

  “Oh, Mom, for goodness’ sake.” Sara cringed. Why did her mother always have to pull out that peanut-butter story as an example of her maverick personality. It was just so . . . silly.

  “Well, I think that took courage. You didn’t care what the other kids thought.”

  “I think I just liked peanut butter,” Sara said, feeling embarrassed.

  “You still do, as far as I can see.” Emily laughed and patted Sara’s hand. Sara could see that her parents noticed the gesture. “Yes, she’s very independent. I think it took a great deal of courage to come all the way up here and find me,” Emily said to the Franklins. “I’m grateful to her for that. She’s really changed my life.”

  Suddenly it was so quiet at the table, Sara thought she could hear the ice melting in her water glass.

  Mike Franklin looked down at his coffee cup and coughed into his hand. Sara’s mother looked at Emily, then looked away.

  “It was hard for Sara. We knew she’d never be really happy until she found you—or reached some sense of closure about you. We really wanted her to find you,” Laura said. “It’s changed her life, too. To come here and get to know you.”

  “In a good way,” Sara put in. Her mother sounded so serious and intense all of a sudden.

  “It was a mystery for her. A stumbling block in her life, you might say. She just couldn’t get past it,” Mike explained. “But now she’s solved it, and she can go on with her life. I’m sure you can understand that, Emily.”

  “What do you mean, Dad?” Sara asked, before Emily could reply. “I am going on with my life. I’m going on with it every day.”

  “I just mean that you’ve spent a lot of time up here, getting to know Emily, and so forth. . . .” Sara knew he only used the expression and so forth when he was losing patience and trying not to show his temper. “But sooner or later, you’ll be coming home, back to Maryland. I’m sure Emily would love it if you stayed here forever. But I’m sure she can also understand that this is only a temporary arrangement.”

  “I think Sara has to do what she thinks will make her happy and what she thinks is best for her. I’ve never tried to persuade her to stay here,” Emily said.

  “I’m sure my husband didn’t mean to imply that you had,” Laura said, sounding flustered.

  “We want Sara to be happy. That’s all we’re saying. That’s all we’ve ever wanted. Her whole life.”

  “Well, then we’re in total agreement,” Emily said evenly. “Just because I gave Sara up, doesn’t mean I didn’t think about her. I never stopped worrying if she was safe and happy.”

  Sara could see her answer had somehow made her father more upset.

  “Yes, of course, you thought about her. But it’s different for us. We’re the ones who raised her. We were her parents for twenty-two years. That’s a long time, wouldn’t you say?”

  Sara saw that Emily was about to reply, but she spoke first. “Dad, calm down. I don’t see what you’re getting so upset about.”

  “I do,” Emily said quietly. “I think your father feels I’m trying to keep you here, when he thinks it would be better for you to move back home.” She looked over at Sara’s parents. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I were in your position. I’m sure I’d miss her very much and wonder about . . . me.”

  Sara was surprised for a moment by Emily’s candor. She could see that her parents were, too.

  “We know you’re a fine person. There’s no question,” Laura said quickly. “When Sara started looking for you, though, we didn’t know who she’d find. Frankly, we were greatly relieved to hear that you were so accomplished and respectable.”

  “But Sara is a soft-hearted girl. She worries about other people’s feelings. Too much, I think, sometimes,” Sara’s father added. “And I worry that she stays on here because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings and—”

  “I hope that’s not the case. Is it, Sara?” Emily cut in.

  Sara had heard enough. “No, that’s not the reason I’m here. Not
at all. I’ve wanted to get to know you better, but I don’t feel sorry for you—”

  “I didn’t think so,” Emily said, looking uncomfortable.

  “—and I’m tired of everyone talking about me as if I weren’t sitting right here,” she announced to all three of them. “I decided to stay to get to know Emily better. That’s certainly true. But she’s never tried to talk me into it or make me feel guilty,” Sara said, looking at her father. “Now I have a job here. I have friends here, too. Emily isn’t the only reason. So stop acting as if she’s kept me prisoner or something.”

  Sara’s parents exchanged a look. Her father looked a little sheepish, Sara thought. Finally.

  “Look, I know you’re all concerned about me, but—”

  “But you’re going to do what you want to do,” her mother filled in for her. But not in a defensive tone, Sara noticed. More as if she were stating an irrefutable fact. “I guess that’s the way we raised you. We shouldn’t be surprised now,” she said.

  “And you did an absolutely wonderful job,” Emily said, gazing fondly at Sara. “I don’t think I even got to tell you that yet. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you for loving her and caring for her and raising her to be such a wonderful person. I’m not sure if I could have done it half as well.”

  Emily’s voice trailed off, and Sara saw her look down at the table, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. Sara wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but something held her back from the gesture.

  “I guess when I thought about coming here tonight, that’s all I really wanted to say to both of you,” Emily finished.

  Nobody spoke for a long moment. Sara saw her father make a restless gesture. He coughed into his hand and glanced at Sara’s mother.

  “That’s a lovely compliment, Emily,” her mother said finally. “But all the while Sara was growing up, I was grateful to you just for bringing her into the world. So maybe we ought to call it even.”

  Sara’s father didn’t say anything but nodded, and watching his gesture, Sara felt a kind of peace settle over her, relief that they had all come to some sort of understanding. It was as if all this time, she and her parents had fit neatly together in a familiar design. Then along came Emily, and that neat pattern had been shaken loose. But now the four of them were rearranged, balanced out again in a new design.