The Gathering Place

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Why did Dan change his mind?” Sara asked.

  “I’m not really sure. He finally took his blinders off, I guess,” she said, somewhat cryptically. “But aside from all that, I thought we should have a frank talk about your work here. You’re doing well, Sara. This issue proves it,” she noted, glancing at the day’s edition. “It took some real reporting to get that story. You’ve really learned a lot the last few weeks.”

  “Thanks, but everyone around here has helped me figure things out. Wyatt and Jane and you,” Sara told her.

  “Well, you have a real future here. If you want it, that is,” Lindsay clarified. “I guess I want to know if you’re really committed to staying here, in this town. Or do you think you’ll go back to Maryland soon? Or just move on?” she asked directly.

  Sara felt put on the spot. She hadn’t thought much about this question, not since her parents had visited a few weeks ago. She knew she could put Lindsay off with some vague, I’ll-get-back-to-you answer. Instead, she took a deep breath and followed her first instinct.

  “I’m settled here. I’m going to stay—for a long time,” she answered in a steady voice.

  Once she’d said the words out loud, she felt certain that she truly meant them. She did feel settled here, as if she really belonged in Cape Light.

  Since Luke had left for the city, she missed him terribly. But she wasn’t going to run back home. She’d take that heartache with her anyway. This was her town now. She was going to stay.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Lindsay said, with a wide smile. “I’m counting on your help.”

  IT WAS THE FIRST DAY THAT RACHEL DIDN’T HAVE ANYONE TO LOOK after the baby while she visited the hospital. Since she and Jack had brought William home, a steady stream of volunteer baby-sitters and household help from the church had been at her door. Ben had also been deluged with offers to clean, wash clothes, and cook. The congregation seemed intent on caring for his family now, which Ben found very gratifying. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad minister after all, he thought.

  But today Rachel’s help had canceled, and Mark, who sometimes watched the baby, had already left to be with Carolyn. Ben watched his daughter come into the room, carrying his new grandson in a strap-on pouch that made Rachel look like a mother kangaroo. She also toted a large blue bag that, he knew by now, was filled with diapers and other necessities.

  Ben rushed to the door to help her. “Honey, you didn’t have to come this morning. You could have stayed home with William. I would have called you if there was any change at all.”

  “Come here, pal.” Mark stepped over and easily took his nephew in his arms so that Rachel could get her coat off.

  He was very comfortable handling the infant, Ben realized. But of course, he’d been around the baby a lot lately, staying at Rachel’s and watching William when no one from the church could come.

  Ben had been so focused on Carolyn—and on Mark—he hadn’t spent much time with the new baby. He looked at the child from across the room, a sweet, innocent bundle. Carolyn would have barely let that baby go long enough for Rachel to hold him, Ben thought.

  They sat quietly together for a few minutes. Then Rachel said, “Let’s say a prayer together.”

  It seemed to help her when they all prayed together for Carolyn at her bedside. Ben felt comforted by the effort, too. He drew closer to them and they joined hands.

  “You start, Dad,” Rachel said. Mark had handed the baby back to her, and she cradled him in one arm, holding Ben’s hand with the other.

  Ben bowed his head. “Dear heavenly Father, please look upon my family with mercy and compassion. Please spare my dear wife’s life and help her thrive again—”

  The baby suddenly started squalling, and Ben abruptly stopped his prayer. William’s fierce, piercing cry shattered the stillness of the darkened room. It was hard to believe such a little thing could make such a big sound, Ben thought. He almost felt like putting his hands over his ears.

  Rachel started to comfort her son, rocking him in her arms. “There now, William. What’s the matter?” she said soothingly. “I don’t think he’s hungry. I just fed him before I left.”

  “Check the diaper area,” Mark suggested.

  Rachel did and shrugged. “Not that.”

  “Maybe it’s gas,” Ben said. He could barely remember a thing about baby care, but that was one thing he recalled.

  Rachel walked and bounced the baby, patting his back and trying to bring up some air, but the infant cried even louder, rhythmically, gasping for air.

  Rachel looked rattled. Ben and Mark watched, not knowing what to do.

  “The baby . . . the baby’s crying. . . .”

  Ben heard Carolyn’s voice and thought he had to be imagining it. He quickly ran over to the bed, and Mark followed, looking as if he’d heard it, too. Rachel stood back watching, not understanding what was going on.

  “Carolyn . . .” Ben took her hand and put his face close to his wife’s. “Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”

  There was no response at first, then her eyelids shuddered and finally opened. She stared straight up at the ceiling for a moment, and Ben thought she’d lost her sight.

  Then she blinked and turned her head toward him. “Ben . . . what’s wrong? Why is the baby crying?” she asked, as if they had just been in the middle of a conversation.

  He couldn’t speak. His throat felt choked with joy and tears. He squeezed her hand and dropped his head to her chest. “Thank God,” he cried. “Thank God. Thank God,” he repeated over and over again, just about losing all self-control.

  Mark hovered over his mother’s bed. “Mom, you’ve been sick. You were in a coma, but you woke up.”

  “Oh, Mark. It’s you! Oh, my heavens,” Ben heard Carolyn say, her speech slightly slurred but full of such feeling it nearly broke Ben’s heart.

  Rachel stood at the other side of the bed. She was the one crying now instead of the baby, who had abruptly and mysteriously stopped.

  “Oh, Mom. You woke up. Thank God,” she said. “Look, here’s your new grandson. He’s a week old today.” She held the baby near to Carolyn so she could see him. “We’ve named him William, after Jack’s father.”

  Carolyn stared at the baby, her mouth forming a perfect circle. “Look at him. He’s come to us at last,” she said. “Like an angel down from heaven.”

  “And you’ve come back to us, my dearest love,” Ben said. “Heaven is missing two now.”

  ON THURSDAY NIGHT SARA CALLED HER PARENTS TO TELL THEM ABOUT her front-page story.

  “That’s great, honey,” her mother said at once. “We can’t wait to see it.”

  “I put it in the mail today. You should get it soon,” Sara promised.

  “How is everything else going?” her mother asked.

  “Um . . . fine.” She didn’t know whether or not to tell her parents about all the ups and downs at the paper. She decided it was best to just simplify the story and cut to the chase.

  “Wyatt left the newspaper. His sister, Lindsay, is going to run it instead,” she explained.

  “How does that affect you, Sara?” her father asked.

  “Well, Lindsay seems to like my work, so it’s good, I guess. We talked, and she wanted to know if I was committed to staying on the paper.”

  They didn’t respond to that at first. Then her mother said, “And what did you tell her?”

  “I said I was committed. I feel like I belong here now, and I’m going to stay—indefinitely,” she forced herself to say.

  She knew this was difficult news to drop on her parents out of the blue. But maybe after their visit it wouldn’t come as that great a shock.

  “Well, that’s your decision, Sara,” her father said, surprising her with his reasonable, resigned tone. “You do seem happy up there.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re doing so well at the paper, it would be a shame to give that up,” her mother told her encouragingly. “Can you send us more copies of that editio
n with your headline? I want to send some to your aunt and my friends.”

  “Oh, Mom, don’t be silly,” Sara said, feeling embarrassed.

  “No, honey. I want to,” her mother said. “I bet Emily was happy to hear that you’re staying,” she added. But in a positive tone of voice, Sara thought.

  “I haven’t told her yet. Maybe I’ll speak to her tonight.”

  They talked for a few more minutes. Then Sara hung up, wondering if she should call Emily. She really wanted to call Luke. She knew that despite everything, he would be happy to hear about her first headline. Should she even try to call him in Boston, she wondered, glancing at the phone. She had the number at his parents’ house, where he must be staying.

  No, that would be too much. Especially since they’d parted so angrily. She didn’t know what to do.

  She pulled out her journal and started to write:

  I guess I feel sad for myself tonight. I have something to really celebrate and no one to celebrate with. But maybe that’s what it means to be older. To really be on your own. It’s great to be with someone in a relationship, but you have to figure out how to be happy with just yourself first, I guess. Luke said that because I’m young, it’s hard to understand that sometimes things just don’t work out. I think it’s hard to understand at any age. Look at Emily. I know she feels bad about Dan, but at least she has her faith to help her.

  Sara stopped writing, remembering Luke’s suggestion to write God a letter.

  She turned the page and started to write again.

  Dear God, It’s me, Sara Franklin. I don’t think it’s good not to pray at all or to not go to church and then ask for favors. But I’m trying to get in touch with you, I guess, and this is my way. I wish I could be more like Emily, more patient about life. More trusting that things will work out all right one way or another. I know I can’t ask you to change Luke’s feelings for me. But could you help me see things differently, so that no matter what happens, I can really understand and at least feel resolved about it?

  Sara paused. That was all she really had to say.

  Thank you, God, for your help and for listening to me. And thanks for the headline story today. That was good. Send more my way.

  She laughed at herself. She closed her journal, feeling much better, as if she could already see things a little more clearly.

  EMILY WAS WALKING THROUGH THE HOSPITAL LOBBY, HEADED FOR THE elevators when Dan spotted her. He felt his heart jump in his chest. She looked beautiful, in a slim black coat, blue shawl, and leather gloves. No hat, of course, her hair in windblown perfection. As usual she somehow appeared harried on the outside, yet serenely calm within. His felt his mouth go suddenly dry as he stepped into her path and caught her eye.

  “Emily . . . hello.”

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “Hi. How are you?”

  “Oh, getting along. You had a busy week,” he pointed out. “I meant to call and congratulate you on your victory over Commissioner Callahan.”

  He saw her blink. Then why didn’t you? he could nearly hear her say. Because I’m a fool, he answered for her. A complete fool to give up a woman like you.

  “He caved pretty quickly once the federal agency got involved. I was surprised myself,” she remarked. “I guess I won’t get impeached at the next town council meeting, after all.”

  “I guess not,” he agreed. He smiled at her, not knowing what to say next. He felt so . . . so emotional all of a sudden.

  Her eyes are so blue, he thought. Nobody else has eyes that color. Or maybe it was the shawl that made them look so deep today.

  “You’re wearing the shawl,” he said.

  “Oh . . . sure. I wear it all the time.” Her tone was offhand, as if it didn’t matter much to her at all. Yet he could tell in the restless way she looked away that it did matter to her.

  “I heard you called off the sale to Crown News,” she said.

  “I couldn’t go through with it. You were right.” He met her gaze again. “I gave Lindsay the paper. You were right about that, too.” She finally smiled at him, and he felt himself smile back.

  “I heard about that from Sara,” she said. “Gee, what happened to your leg? Did you break it again?”

  He looked down at his new cast and shook his head. “Not really, but I got up on it too soon. I have to wear this for about two more weeks.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not so bad. It won’t delay your trip much, I guess. Much more, I mean.” She looked at him, her expression questioning, he thought. He felt suddenly uneasy.

  “Uh, no, it’s no big deal. I haven’t thought that much about it lately—with everything else happening.”

  He heard the dour note in his voice but couldn’t help it. His trip. It seemed like a burdensome task now, not the grand adventure he had once looked forward to with such great anticipation. Now it was more of something he had to get over with. Lately it all seemed so pointless. He only hoped that once his doctor said he was ready, his old enthusiasm would somehow rekindle.

  Gazing at Emily right now, he couldn’t imagine how it would.

  “Going up to see Carolyn Lewis?” he asked.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “I just saw her. You can hardly squeeze into the room,” he warned. “But she seems happy to have all the company.” He paused and looked down at her. What was she thinking right now? Did she care about him at all anymore? She was so adept at hiding her emotions, he couldn’t really tell.

  If he could only just . . . just talk to her. Really talk to her. Something real and essential that would cut to the bone, not all this chitchat.

  He watched her take a breath and glance at her watch.

  “I guess I’d better get up there,” she said quietly.

  “Of course. I won’t keep you. See you around, I guess.”

  “Sure.” She smiled gently, then touched his arm. “See you, Dan. Take care of yourself.”

  “You, too, Emily. You, too.” He briefly touched her hand and felt it slip out from his grasp. Then she turned quickly, hugging her shawl around her shoulders, which made him remember how it felt to hug her close.

  He turned, too, and headed through the lobby for the exit, his eyesight suddenly blurry.

  IT WAS A QUIET DAY AT THE PAPER ON MONDAY, AND LINDSAY URGED Sara to go out on a real lunch break, since it was her turn to stay and help with the layout that night.

  It was cold and windy outside, and the Beanery, just a block away, seemed the perfect choice. Sara took a table near the back and picked up the menu. When she looked up, Luke was walking into the café. He was alone and headed for the take-out counter. Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat wondering what to do. She waited a minute for him to look around and see her there. When he didn’t, she called out to him.

  “Luke . . . hello,” she said. He turned and saw her. Then he smiled, and she felt better.

  “Hi, Sara. Waiting for someone?” he asked.

  What a question, she thought. “No, I just have a rare real lunch break today. Want to sit down?”

  He hesitated a moment, then pulled out a chair next to her.

  “So, what’s been going on?” he said casually. “Anything new at the paper?”

  “Yeah, a lot. Wyatt left, and Lindsay’s taking over. Dan was going to sell out to Crown News, but he changed his mind at the last minute.”

  Luke sat back, looking interested in her news. “Wow, that is a lot. When did all this happen?”

  “The last couple of weeks, while you were in Boston.”

  He seemed distracted for a minute, then said, “I just got back this afternoon.”

  “So, when do you start your new job?” she forced herself to ask him.

  He looked down at the table and fooled around with the fork and spoon. “I decided not to work for them after all. Not up in Boston, anyway. I’m going to stay here,” he said, lifting his gaze to look at her. “I’m going to work at the new center, like I’d planned to before.”

  “Oh
, that’s funny,” she said, feeling quietly elated at his news. “I’ve decided to stay here, too. Permanently, I mean. I more or less promised Lindsay I wasn’t going to take off on her, and I even told my parents the other night.”

  He stared at her across the table and sat back in his chair. “That is funny,” he agreed, “because I finally figured out I didn’t really want the job or want to go back to the city. The real reason I even considered it was because I thought you were leaving, too, eventually. I didn’t want to be left alone here in town, thinking about you,” he admitted.

  Wow, Sara thought, but didn’t say aloud. She didn’t know what to say. Had he just admitted he still cared about her? She had to know for sure.

  “So, how do you feel now?” she asked quietly.

  A slow, warm smile spread over his face, and he reached out and took hold of her hands. “I feel great. I promised myself when I left Boston this morning, I was going to see you and at least try to set things straight between us—and here you are.”

  “Here I am,” Sara agreed, feeling amazingly happy. “I felt awful after we argued,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t have run off like that—”

  “That was my fault,” he cut in. “I mean it. I should have told you that night that I loved you. That’s why I really came looking for you. But I chickened out. I didn’t think you were ready to hear it. Maybe you aren’t ready now,” he said, casting a questioning look at her. “But at least you know my real feelings.”

  “I love you, too,” she said quietly. She moved closer and put her arms around him, pulling him close in a tight hug. He turned his head and smiled at her, then kissed her, taking her breath away.

  Sara held him close. She had missed him so much. She missed talking to him, confiding in him, and just having fun with him. She’d missed turning to him for advice and encouragement. She hadn’t realized how important he was to her until he was gone. That had been a painful lesson to learn, but at least, Luke had forgiven her.

  Finally, she pulled away. Still holding him close, she said, “I think I took you for granted. That was wrong. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again,” she promised.