Moon Dance

by Mariah Stewart

  "I wonder if that was when I went out to my truck to look for matches for the candles." He tried to recall, but could not. "Well, for whatever reason, Laura's remark just set me off. I just wanted out, and away from all of you."

  Matt knew he had to go on and finish the job. "I felt like you all were Laura's family now, and that her other family—Charity's family—didn't maybe matter so much anymore. I realize that it sounds so stupid…"

  "I don't think it sounds stupid. I think I'd probably have felt the same way."

  "Did you know that your mother goes out to Riverview at least once a week—sometimes twice— to read aloud to the residents?"

  "Yes."

  "You don't find that odd, that someone like your mother would travel all that distance to read to people she doesn't even know?" he couldn't help but ask.

  "No, I don't find it odd, knowing my mother," she appeared to bristle slightly. "But I'd sure like to know what you mean by 'someone like my mother.' "

  Matt wasn't oblivious to the rise in her voice and the snap of annoyance that brought those green eyes down a shade or two.

  He chose his words carefully.

  "I only meant that someone who has your mother's… celebrity might find other ways to spend her time than reading to a group of Alzheimer's patients in a backwoods nursing facility in Maryland once or twice a week."

  "My mother has never been concerned with her celebrity, and I suspect that she does not consider Charity to be just another Alzheimer's patient."

  "That's pretty much what she said."

  "You've discussed this with her?"

  "Last week. I ran into her at Riverview. She's quite an amazing woman."

  "Yes, she is."

  "I'm beginning to realize that I have misjudged her. She seems to be sincerely concerned about my mother's health and well-being. She came as quite a surprise to me, I don't mind admitting it."

  "Now, how did she manage to win you over in one short afternoon?" Georgia leaned forward, curious.

  Matt debated on whether to tell her about the nurse, then decided against it. He and Delia had agreed to keep it between them for the time being.

  "I guess I just had to see for myself what she's really like." he said, not bothering to mention that he had promised to do exactly that for the next six months.

  "I would venture to guess that you only saw the very tip of the iceberg. My mother is loving and giving and kind and caring and generous to a fault." Georgia grinned and added, "And we all adore her anyway."

  "I guess I'm glad for Laura that she found Delia," he spoke the words slowly, the admission was not an easy one. "And I'm glad that Ally will at least have one grandmother as she grows up."

  "What happened to her other grandmother?" Georgia gave his hand a last squeeze before releasing her fingers from his so she could begin to stack the dinner dishes.

  "What?" The question was unexpected, and Matt wasn't certain he'd heard correctly.

  "Ally's father's family," Georgia stood and carried the dishes to the sink to rinse them. "And while we're on the subject, where's Ally's father?"

  "Don't you know?" He couldn't believe that she didn't know.

  Georgia shook her head. "The few times I asked Laura about her husband, she snapped shut like a clam. She has made it very clear that that is one topic she does not want to discuss."

  "And your mother didn't tell you…?"

  "No. She said that Laura would probably discuss it when she felt she could. Which I thought was an odd choice of words, but my mother didn't seem inclined to elaborate." Georgia waited for Matt to volunteer some information, and when he did not, she prodded him. "So…?"

  "So…?"

  "So, what happened to Laura's husband? Where is he?"

  "He's in a federal prison."

  Georgia suspected that the thud she heard was her jaw hitting the kitchen floor.

  "Prison?" Georgia sat back down. "What did he do?"

  "Stole money from his church." There really was no way to pretty it up.

  "He stole money from a church?"

  "Not just any church. His church."

  "You mean he was a minister?"

  "Yep. The Very Reverend Gary J. Hannon was pastor and spiritual leader of the New House of God."

  "Yow." Georgia's eyes were growing larger. "Wait a minute. The New House of God… why does this sound familiar?"

  "You might have seen it on the news when the story broke a few years ago. Gary was a young, handsome, Bible-toting man of the cloth. He had a large ministry that went out over the airwaves every Sunday morning and every Wednesday night. And every Sunday morning and every Wednesday afternoon, he was appealing for contributions for the poor in our midst… 'the souls entrusted to our care by none other than God Almighty Himself…' " Matt's voice lowered and took on the tone of a deeply sincere and concerned humanitarian… and on Monday and Thursday mornings he was on the phone to his bookie."

  "You mean he gambled with the church's money?"

  "Every last red cent, near as we could figure out."

  "I can't believe that Laura would fall in love with someone like that."

  "You would have had to know Gary, Georgia. Handsome, as I said, and with the most humble, down-to-earth, sincere manner you'd ever want to see. He was as charming a man as you'll ever meet."

  "But for Laura to marry someone like that. A con man!"

  "Oh, I think he did his best con job on her. I don't believe she ever saw through him. That's what made it such a shock to all of us. None of us ever saw it coming."

  "How could you not know?"

  "Georgia, all you ever really see of anyone else is that which they want you to see. He played the role of a totally devoted husband, totally committed man of the cloth to perfection."

  "How was he caught?"

  "One of his congregation saw him in a casino in Las Vegas. He was supposed to be attending a retreat in the desert." A look of disgust crossed Matt's face. "He was retreating, all right. Straight to the blackjack table. A drink in one hand and a showgirl in the other."

  "Oh, poor Laura! She must have been devastated!"

  "Totally. She could not believe it. Did not believe it, even when the congregation formed an audit committee and started going through the church's books and found a tangled mess but no money. Laura stood by him until the evidence was so overwhelming that even Gary didn't bother to deny it. And as humiliating as it must have been for her— living in the town she'd grown up in, married to a man who'd fleeced half the community, hell, half of Maryland!—I really think the worst part for her was the deception. Finding out that her life with him had been nothing more than a sham. That the man she loved really did not exist. That she was married to a total stranger."

  "But she's still married to him, isn't she? She said something one time about being separated, not divorced…"

  "Well, that's another problem. It seems that the longer Gary stays in prison, the more he's starting to believe his own press."

  "I don't understand." Georgia asked as she filled the teakettle with tap water and placed it on the stove.

  "He always maintained that he was a devoted man of God. One that had sinned and sought redemption, but still a man of God. His little speech before he was sentenced was carried on a lot of the news programs, and to give the devil his due, Gary was quite convincing. He is a compelling speaker, Georgia. Mesmerizing. He had been tempted, he confessed, he had succumbed to temptation, but he had seen the light and was stronger in his faith because of it. He's become a bit of a celebrity there in prison. He 'ministers' to the prison population now, leads them in prayers and teaches them how to redeem their souls, so he claims. I understand he has a totally devoted flock there at the Gray Bar Hotel where he is presently incarcerated. And he really does seem to believe that he is a true and anointed man of God. He's become frighteningly devout."

  "That's an odd choice of words," she frowned. " 'Frighteningly' and 'devout' shouldn't go together."

  "No,
they shouldn't, but in his case, it fits." Matt recalled the conversation with Delia and the information she had shared. "I've heard that his ministry has spread from prison to prison throughout the country. Something about the thought of an entire network of hardened felons devoted to Reverend Gary scares me."

  "Have you seen him?" She turned the knob for the first burner, then leaned sideways to make sure that the gas flame appeared.

  "I saw him last year when he came up for parole. While they say he is a model prisoner, the parole board did not feel that his sentence should be cut short. He took money from a lot of hard-working people, and a good number of them wrote letters to the hearing board asking that he not be paroled."

  "Did Laura go with you? To the hearing?"

  "No. You know, for all of her reluctance to divorce him, she seems almost frightened to even see him. I went to the hearing because I felt that a member of the family should be there and I did not want Laura to go when she clearly did not want to. She really has not been able to put this whole thing behind her, I'm assuming that it's because of Ally, but I'm still not certain that that's the whole story. In any event, I went to the parole hearing, over Laura's protests. She hadn't wanted me to go either. Afterward, I was glad that she stayed home."

  "Why's that?"

  "Gary seemed… different."

  "Different how?"

  "I couldn't put my finger on it. It bothered me a lot at the time. The way he was looking at everyone, as if everyone in that room was totally… insignificant. As if he was amused somehow by it all."

  "I wouldn't think that having my chances for parole being shot down would be terribly amusing."

  "Oh, well, I'm sure he hadn't expected that. And of course, the denial of parole wasn't announced then and there. But there was certainly something about him that had changed."

  "Why doesn't Laura just divorce him and get it over with?"

  "I don't have a clue. She started proceedings a few years ago, then dropped them. She wouldn't discuss it, other than to say that she thought it was for the best."

  "I've noticed that Laura is very good at avoiding topics she wants to avoid."

  "Well, I can't figure it out. She's a beautiful woman, she's got her own business, a wonderful child, she should be getting on with her life. I can't for the life of me understand why she would want to stay tied to the likes of him."

  "Do you think she still loves him?"

  "No. Not a chance."

  "Maybe it has something to do with Ally…"

  "I used to think that, but it doesn't feel right. Ally has never even seen the man. She was born six months after he was sentenced. He's never laid eyes on her."

  "Poor Laura." Georgia sighed as she measured loose tea into the silver ball and dropped it into one of the cups. "She deserves so much better than that."

  "I couldn't agree with you more. You know, last year I tried to fix her up with a vet I know from Ocean City and you know what she said? She said she couldn't date. That she was still married and couldn't go out with anyone."

  "But at the same time she doesn't see him and has no contact with him and never talks about him."

  "Right."

  "I see what you mean about people only letting us see what they want us to see. Laura's never given me so much as a hint." Georgia chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. "I never in a million years would have guessed at any of this,"

  The kettle began to whistle and she turned off the burner, then poured hot water over the tea ball, recalling Laura's reaction to the reading of her tea leaves. A lover. A secret to be revealed. Well, that much came true. Her secret had been revealed to Georgia.

  "I wish I could get her to talk to me about this. Maybe together, we can find a way to help Laura move forward. Maybe she just has a fear of starting over." Georgia said softly. "And really, all things considered, starting over isn't so very bad. Change can be very good."

  "You're doing well here?" he asked although the answer was evident. Georgia glowed of good health and contentment.

  "Very well. I am very happy here. Every day is totally new and there's always something to do."

  "Plowing. Pig farming…"

  "Don't laugh. It's been fun, though it's definitely a very different lifestyle for me. It's making it easier for me to see what direction I might want to follow." She went to the refrigerator and returned with a bowl of raspberries which she sat between them on the table. "Help yourself," she said as she popped one into her mouth.

  "And that direction is?"

  "I really love dancing, Matt. It's been my life. But for the past year or two, 1 really haven't been very happy. Not the way I have been since I've been here. I've had the best time teaching, and I think I'm good at it. I've had calls this week from several of the moms who were here for Ally's birthday…"

  "Wanting to sign their daughters up for lessons?"

  "And wanting to take lessons themselves. Word has spread very quickly. There's no other ballet school in the area to compete with, so I already have enough adults—via word of mouth—for one class, and enough children to do two beginner classes each week. And I haven't even done any advertising!" Her eyes were glowing as the words tumbled out. "Oh, I know it's only temporary, only for a few months, I've told everyone that. But they want to come anyway."

  "And from here?" He asked tentatively.

  She shrugged. "I'm not sure. Right now, I'm enjoying farm life and dancing."

  "That's such an odd combination."

  "But it's perfect for me." She added a little more hot water to each of the teacups. "You know, you never did tell me what brought you down here today."

  "Oh." He couldn't bring himself to tell her that he'd come to measure the barn for his clinic. That that exact spot where she set up her little row of chairs would be a wall that separated one of several examining rooms from the operating room. "Just wanted to check on a few things. Pick up some mail."

  "I'm glad you did. I'm glad you're here."

  "So am I." He glanced at the clock. It was almost ten. He had surgery scheduled first thing tomorrow—removing tumors from the shoulder of a cocker spaniel—and he still had to drive back to Shawsburg. "It's later than I thought. I need to be getting back home."

  He stood and held the back of her chair as she rose.

  "Where do you suppose Artie is?" she asked.

  "Probably sitting at the bottom of the steps, waiting for his dinner."

  "I could give him a few carrots."

  "Nah, he can wait."

  Matt opened the back door and stepped out. The evening air was crisp and fresh and laced with the scent of tulip and iris. The moment brought back memories of other spring evenings, and for just a moment, he thought he could almost see Hope at the window, looking out.

  It was only an illusion, of course, but a comforting one.

  "Well, thanks for dinner," Matt said.

  Georgia had followed him outside, and stood on the top step. With Matt on the bottom step, they were almost the same height.

  "It was very much my pleasure. I hope you'll come back."

  He hadn't planned on it, but before he'd given it so much as a passing thought, he found his mouth moving down to meet hers. Her lips were soft and sweet and were like no lips he'd ever kissed before.

  "I didn't mean to do that." He heard a voice say. It took a few seconds for him to recognize the voice as his own. "I'm sorry," he added.

  "Matthew," she whispered, her hands still on his shirt collar drawing his face slowly back to hers, "don't ever apologize to a woman for kissing her. She might think you didn't like it."

  Without apology, he bent and kissed her again. And again. And for a long time it seemed that there was nothing else under the moon that night but Georgia, and lips that tasted like raspberries and invited him to feast, arms that wound around his neck like soft, fragrant vines and that sweet body that was soft in all the right places.

  There had been, he thought as he drove down the dark road back to Shawsburg
some time later, nothing sorry about it.

  seventeen

  "See you on Saturday," he'd turned and called back to her across the hush of the late spring night. "Early afternoon. We'll see what we can do about getting that water hooked up."

  Georgia watched from the top step until the tail-lights of Matt's truck disappeared as he turned on to the road at the end of the lane.

  See you on Saturday.

  She settled Spam onto the porch for the night and locked the back door behind her, then went back into the kitchen and absently began to rinse the dinner dishes. It wasn't until she dropped the second fork that she acknowledged the fact that her hands were shaking. Raising her fingers to her lips, she traced the path of his kisses, still feeling the pressure of his mouth on hers.

  She tried to remember if she'd ever been struck dumb by a kiss before and thought perhaps that this had been a first.

  Grinning, she turned the water back on and rinsed the saucers of the small splashes of tea that had nm down the side of the cup. She reached for the cups and was just about to run them under the swift stream of water when she stopped, set the cups down on the counter, and went off to get Hope's book.

  Let's see, she thought, I had the cup with the tiny chip on the handle.

  She looked inside at the small amount of liquid left.

  Just right, she smiled. Swishing it around, she turned the cup around three times—counterclockwise, of course—and tilted it into the light so that she could see the tea leaves left within.

  Hmmm. I'd call that a cat's head, there by the handle. And down there a little farther, that sort of looks like a hat. And down at the bottom, some sort of bird with wide wings. A hawk, maybe…

  Georgia leaned over the counter and paged through Hope's book, looking for notes that might correspond with the images that she saw.

  "Well, the cat is an easy one. Domestic comfort, and I certainly have that." She murmured aloud.

  Hat. Let's see. She skimmed the precise handwriting and neatly drawn figures. There was a hat that looked almost exactly like the one in Georgia's cup. A new project or challenge. Well, that was certainly on the money.