The Gathering Place

by Thomas Kinkade

  “I was just passing, and I had some extra time,” Sara explained.

  “Does Lillian know you’re here?”

  “No. I don’t think she’s up yet.”

  Emily glanced at her watch. “Probably not. Let’s not wake her. I’ll tell her you came, though. Where’s your car? I didn’t see it when I drove up,” she said, glancing around.

  “I couldn’t deal with cleaning it off and warming it up,” Sara admitted, feeling as if she’d revealed herself as a total foreigner to this climate. “I’m just going to walk to work today. I can go back later and get it if I need to go cover a story outside of town.”

  “Want a lift?” Emily offered. “It’s getting late.”

  “Sure.” Sara’s early burst of energy had burned off with the snow shoveling, and she was glad for the ride into town.

  “Did you hear about Carolyn Lewis?” Emily asked, as she started driving.

  “Um, no. What happened to Carolyn?”

  “Rachel went into the hospital yesterday afternoon to have her baby, and Carolyn had a stroke on the way to be with her.”

  “Oh no, how awful!” Sara exclaimed. “How is she?”

  “She had surgery last night. I went over there with Jessica and Sam and some others from the church. She’s out of the critical care unit but still in a coma.”

  Sara felt instantly disheartened at the news. She didn’t know Carolyn very well, but she had always seemed like such a warm-hearted person.

  “I wish there was something I could do,” Sara said. “Are you going to the hospital again?”

  “Yes, maybe tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I would,” Sara said.

  Emily smiled at her. “Good, I’d love the company. It’s hard to see the reverend’s family like this. They’re always there for everyone else. You just don’t know what to do for them.”

  They reached the newspaper office, and Emily pulled up across the street to let her off.

  “How’s Dan doing?” Emily asked, glancing over at the office. She didn’t need to add, “Since Wyatt left.”

  “Not too good. I never knew him that well to begin with, but he couldn’t have always been such a pain. I don’t think you would have put up with it,” Sara said, with a laugh.

  Emily grinned. “That bad, huh?”

  “Yes, that bad. Now Lindsay is gone, too,” Sara told her. “I think they had an argument. Jane says she heard Dan is going to sell the paper to Crown News. She’s already looking for another job.”

  “Dan mentioned that to me last week, right after Wyatt left. I didn’t want to tell you, though,” Emily said honestly. “I was hoping he would change his mind.”

  “I still hope he will,” Sara admitted. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to work for the Messenger if Crown News took over. That meant she might consider returning to Maryland. But she decided not to go into that with Emily now. She was sure Emily was putting those pieces together for herself.

  “Didn’t you know about Lindsay? I thought you and Dan were sort of seeing each other,” Sara said.

  “Well, we’ve both been really busy this week. I’m sure we’ll catch up at some point,” Emily said vaguely.

  Sara stared at her. “Aren’t you going out anymore?”

  She could see that Emily felt put on the spot; she pressed her hands to the steering wheel and stared straight ahead.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s none of my business,” Sara said.

  “No. I can tell you.” Emily turned and touched Sara’s arm. “I want to, really.” She took a breath. “I do care about Dan, and I know he feels the same,” she started off, sounding as if she needed to defend him, Sara thought. “The thing is, Dan is just dead set on leaving on this trip. He’s been thinking about this for years. He has to do it.

  “So I think we’ve both figured out that there’s no real future here. Now we’re more in the phase-out period, if you know what I mean.”

  Emily sounded calm and resigned about the situation, but Sara could sense the sadness beneath her words.

  “I’m sorry. I guess it’s hard for you,” Sara said sympathetically.

  “Oh, I’ll be okay. He was always honest about it. It’s not a surprise.”

  “Well, I think he’s missing out, passing up on you in favor of a sailing trip,” Sara consoled her.

  “I do, too,” Emily agreed, smiling again. “Men can be so dense. Even the good ones.”

  “Absolutely,” Sara agreed. She pulled her new leather bag from the floor and turned to go.

  “By the way, give Warren a call today. I think he has some news for you about that story you’ve been covering.”

  “The emergency services grant? What happened?” Sara asked excitedly.

  “I’m not at liberty to say. But you can call me for a comment after you talk to Warren. And don’t let him know where you got the tip,” Emily added, giving Sara a wink.

  Sara leaned into the car before closing the door. “Thanks, Emily.”

  “No problem. I owed you for all that shoveling this morning. Have a good day, honey.”

  Emily waved good-bye and pulled away. Sara stood on the sidewalk a moment, steeling herself before she faced Dan again this morning. At least she had a good lead to work on today.

  As soon as she got settled at her desk, she called Warren Oakes. It took some wheedling, but she managed to get him to admit that the federal agency that had awarded the grant was now putting pressure on Commissioner Callahan to pass the money through to Cape Light.

  “Does this mean the village won’t sue the county now?” Sara asked.

  “It’s too early to say, but if the county does as the feds say, then we’ll have no reason to sue.”

  “So if the county bows to the pressure from the feds, will there be repercussions for Cape Light later?”

  “You’ll have to ask the commissioner that one,” Warren said, with a laugh. “I’d say it’s highly likely, but don’t quote me on that,” he hastily added. “In fact, I wish you’d keep this entire story under wraps until the county has made some public response. You know putting it in the newspaper too soon might weaken our position.”

  “That’s up to my editor,” Sara said curtly. “I guess he’ll decide if enough has happened here to justify a story.”

  After talking to Warren, she called the commissioner, but he wouldn’t speak to her. She thought of calling Emily, then decided it was too soon. She would take it to Dan first.

  “Interesting,” Dan said. “Did you just try Oakes on a hunch?”

  “I’ve been after him for a while—and I did get a little tip from someone in Village Hall,” Sara admitted.

  He met her gaze, then looked away. If he had guessed her secret informant, he didn’t comment.

  “This latest wrinkle must be making Em—er, the mayor happy,” he said. “Have you called her yet?”

  “I was just about to. Then thought I’d check with you first. Should I bother to get her statement yet? Maybe there isn’t enough here to run a story.”

  He frowned and considered the paper’s options. Or was he just thinking about Emily, Sara wondered.

  Dan turned in his chair and glanced at the board, then made a notation by the story. “Let’s watch this. It’s Friday. I don’t think anything more is going to happen until next week. You can call the mayor’s office, if you want, but I don’t think she’ll have much to say until the commissioner responds to the feds. Keep on Callahan. Let him know you really want to keep this story evenhanded, and you’re interested in his side of it.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll try him again.” Sara stood up and started to go.

  “Oh, and Sara, good work,” Dan remarked, nodding at her.

  She thanked him and walked back to her desk. High praise coming from Dan Forbes. She’d have to remember to write this down in her journal tonight.

  FRIDAY WAS A LONG DAY OF WAITING. IN SOME WAYS, EVEN HARDER THAN last night, Ben reflected, as he stared at Carolyn’s motionless b
ody.

  Last night there had been so much drama, so much going on, he had run on sheer adrenaline. But today the minutes crawled, and every hour felt like a lifetime. Jack and Rachel looked in from time to time. Nurses checked in on their appointed rounds, and eventually, Dr. Whittaker stopped by, too.

  “Her blood pressure is still unstable, and that’s not a good sign,” the doctor explained. “We’re giving her medication to control it, but it could bring on another stroke. One that would be more severe.”

  Ben nodded, saying nothing. When the doctor left, he closed his eyes and prayed by Carolyn’s bedside, yet he felt somehow his prayers were not heard.

  Mostly, Ben sat alone in the room with her. Without anything else to do, he read aloud some of her favorite passages from the Bible, eventually coming to Psalms. If she was really slipping from this world, if she could really hear his voice in her deep sleep, then perhaps these familiar words would give her some comfort, he thought.

  He found the Twenty-third Psalm and began to read slowly, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me. . . .”

  Ben stopped, his throat so thick with tears that he couldn’t continue. He put the Bible aside and simply held Carolyn’s cool, unresponsive hand, an awful realization dawning on him—if she had to have last rites, he didn’t think he could do it.

  Night fell. Jack persuaded Ben to have a bite to eat downstairs in the hospital cafeteria. “Rachel had a call from Mark,” Jack told him, when they sat down. “He’s gotten as far as Fort Worth. He was trying to book a flight to New York or Boston. He thinks he might get here late tonight.”

  Ben nodded, feeling too drained to react. “I hope he’s in time,” he said simply. He pushed the bits of food around on his plate; he had no appetite.

  He wondered why Mark hadn’t called Carolyn’s room to speak directly with him. Probably afraid I would be angry at the delay. Or maybe he just wanted to speak to his sister. Then he was annoyed at worrying at all about Mark’s feelings. Too much attention had already been focused in that direction today by Rachel and Jack and even himself. He resented it. The real focus should be on Carolyn. Only Carolyn.

  Later that night, just past eleven, Sophie and Gus Potter arrived. Ben could hardly believe his eyes when he saw them standing in the darkened doorway. For a moment he wondered if his sleep deprivation had finally gotten to him.

  “We heard you were still here and thought you needed some rest, Reverend. Let us stay the night with her,” Sophie said. “We’ll call you if anything happens.”

  “Yes, Reverend, let us stay. We have a big thermos of coffee and a few good books here. We were hoping you’d let us help you out tonight,” Gus added.

  Although his first impulse was to refuse their generosity, Ben did feel exhausted. The doctor on call had looked in earlier and said he didn’t expect any dramatic changes that night. He, too, had urged Ben to go home and get some sleep.

  “All right, I guess I can leave for a few hours. You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

  “We’ll be just fine. We’ll take good care of her,” Sophie promised. Gus hugged him before he left, and then Sophie did, too, her eyes shining with sympathy. He hugged her back, feeling a moment of relief, comforted by his old friends.

  BEN RETURNED TO THE HOSPITAL AT FIVE O’CLOCK THE NEXT MORNING, feeling guilty that he had stolen even a few hours of sleep. As he approached Carolyn’s room, he heard someone crying inside. His first thought was that it must be Rachel or Jack and the worst had come in his absence.

  He rushed into the room, his heart in his throat, and saw Mark seated at his mother’s bedside. His hands covered his face as he cried, his body shaking with each wrenching sob.

  Ben started toward him, instinctively wanting to comfort his son. Then as Mark lifted his head and looked at him, Ben stopped, feeling only anger at his son’s selfish, unfeeling neglect, his rejection of their love and concern—especially Carolyn’s. As if his mother was going to live forever. As if he had eternity to work out his grievances—real or imagined—against them. Well, he didn’t. He didn’t have all the time in the world. Nobody did. And this scene sadly proved it.

  “Hello, Mark,” Ben said quietly, still standing in the doorway.

  “Dad . . .” Mark began to speak, then he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. He looked as if he had been up for the past three days. Well, he probably had, Ben thought.

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe it,” Mark repeated, as if in shock.

  Ben felt his jaw grow rigid with anger and knew he shouldn’t speak. But he couldn’t help himself. The anger that had been building for years came spewing out.

  “You love her so much? You realize that now?” he began in a low, ragged tone. “Where have you been all these months? All these years? Her very last words to me were about you.” He nearly choked on the admission, remembering. “Concern for you, Mark. Love for you. You have no idea how much you’ve hurt her all these years. Hurt both of us,” he added harshly.

  Mark stared at him, his red-rimmed eyes wide with disbelief. “Dad, how can you say this to me? I just got here. I’ve been traveling for days. You know why I couldn’t get here any sooner—”

  “You could have come back any time in the last two years,” Ben told him in a low, furious voice. “We all but begged you to come home. And now you’re sorry. You want to tell her how much you love her? Well, go ahead. She’s right there.”

  Mark rose and stared at him, shaking his head. “I knew you would be like this. I knew it. Even now,” he added, glancing at his mother. “You couldn’t wait five minutes to start in on me.”

  Ben started to answer him then stopped. He took a small step back, appalled at his own loss of control. What had he done? Exactly what he’d promised Carolyn he wouldn’t do: greet their son with a tirade of accusations.

  He looked past Mark to Carolyn’s bed, feeling deeply ashamed of himself. Not so much for his son’s sake. He had been honest with Mark for once and didn’t totally regret it. But looking at Carolyn, he felt as if he’d failed her. Let her down, now, when what he wanted most was to honor his promises to her.

  Rachel walked in and glanced first at him, then at Mark. From the expression on her face, Ben could tell that she knew she’d walked in on something. Wordlessly, she went straight to her brother and opened her arms to him. Ben watched his children embrace, feeling completely outside their circle of love. Then they stood together, side by side, and Mark put his arm around Rachel’s shoulders, as they stared down at their mother.

  Ben’s heart ached for them both. They were adults, and yet in many ways, they needed Carolyn even more than when they were younger. The loss would be deep and devastating for both of them, he realized. For Rachel, because her mother was almost her best friend; for Mark, because he’d had so little time with Carolyn since he was a teenager. He had never worked out the adult connection Rachel had with her mother. His bond to Carolyn was still fraught with so many unresolved issues. If she died now, Mark might never forgive himself, Ben thought sadly.

  He felt an urge to speak to them, to offer some loving words that could bring them together as a family. But he stood there silently, feeling the odd man out and feeling, too, as if he deserved to be. He still felt so angry with Mark for having waited so long to come back. Every time he looked at him, he could only think of one question: Why had he waited so long? Too long, maybe. Too long for all of them.

  Feeling shaken, he slipped out of the room and walked down the hallway, trying to compose himself. He took the elevator to the first floor and walked to the chapel. He was relieved to see that he would be alone there. He took a seat in a pew, knelt, and folded his hands, trying to pray.

  Help me handle this anger, Lord. Give m
e the right words to say to Mark. The right attitude. I can’t come around on my own. I’m stuck. I’m blinded. I can’t find my way through this without Carolyn to help me. I want to keep my promise to her, but I don’t have the strength. Or the mercy in my heart for my son, he confessed. Why can’t I forgive him? Please help me.

  He sat back and lowered his head, his eyes closed. He felt weary and drained, right down to his spirit. This was the moment when his faith should be lifting him up, giving him the strength to support his family, to bring them together with words of comfort, consolation, and hope.

  What kind of man of God was he? In this dreadful hour, he was cowering, fading, exploding like a powder keg, and berating his son. This is my test, and I’m failing. I’m failing everyone, especially Carolyn.

  “FORTUNATELY WE GOT HERE EARLY, FOR ONCE,” LILLIAN SAID TO EMILY, in a hushed voice. “I haven’t seen this many people in church since . . . since Christmas.”

  Christmas had only been three weeks ago, but Emily knew what she meant. The church was filled to capacity, with some members of the congregation even standing in the aisles.

  “I guess everyone wants to show support for the reverend and his family,” Emily said.

  “Yes, of course. How is she doing? What do you hear?” her mother asked in her usual way, with more curiosity than concern.

  “I visited last night with Sara. We only stayed a minute or two. There’s been no change in Carolyn’s condition. Reverend Ben looked exhausted. I think he’s been there night and day. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a guest minister here today.”

  “I see the family,” Lillian said, surveying the pews up front. “There’s Rachel and her husband . . . oh, and Mark. I barely recognized him with that long beard. He looks like a lumberjack. Hasn’t he been away in the mountains, logging or something?”

  “He’s been traveling, Mother, out seeing the world. I think he just got back from Montana.” Emily hated to gossip about anyone but especially about the Lewis family at this time.

  “I heard he became a Buddhist monk. Do they have many Buddhists in Montana these days?”