"I read a lot, Mr. Walker. I learned the procedure by reading a first aid manual."
Grace scanned the table for reaction to the claim and saw Margaret offer a warm smile. She hated telling lies but loved having allies who could keep secrets. Grace's affection and respect for the matron of the house had grown immeasurably in the past few weeks.
She felt much the same about an uncle who had offered his home to a total stranger and had continued to meet her material needs. If she was thankful for nothing else this Thanksgiving, she was thankful for the incredibly gracious couple who had taken her under their wings.
Grace was grateful for other things, of course, such as the girl at her side. She knew that Penny could never replace Ginny and Katie, but she also knew that she could go far in filling the gaping holes in her heart.
She was also grateful to have John Walker in her life, though she was not quite sure what to do with him. Under different circumstances, she would have run to the handsome Army captain. He had all the qualities she admired in a man, including a sense of humor, a kind heart, and seemingly limitless compassion for others. But she was in love with Joel Smith, the man and the memory, and could not yet bring herself to consider a suitor.
Grace looked across the table and saw another blessing. Edith Green had brought a smile to her face more than once in the past week. She had a biting wit, maturity beyond her years, and an intellect that was every bit the equal of her adopted older sister's.
They had spent hours talking about literature and politics and thankfully little about Grace's dubious past. As the most politically liberal and tolerant member of the Green family, Edith had little use for judgment and discrimination.
Then there was Edith's alter ego, her mirror image, the woman Grace had dreamt about for years, a woman a drunk driver had so cruelly cut down in the prime of her life. She was perhaps the greatest blessing of all.
When Grace had first laid eyes on Lucille Green, she had wanted to smother her with hugs and kisses. She had wanted to open her heart and bare her soul. She had missed her mother, her closest friend in life, so much that it often made her physically ill.
But Grace knew that the British girl who had stepped out of Uncle Alistair's Oldsmobile six days earlier was not her mother, at least not the woman who had raised her. She was rather a cheerful, outgoing teenager who had yet to meet the love of her life and bear children who might be very different from a girl who had been born one spring day in Mankato, Minnesota.
Grace sipped the rest of her wine and took a bite of the chestnut stuffing Edith had prepared. It tasted much like the stuffing she had eaten on Thanksgiving Day in 1941, when Grace had taken Joel Smith to Edith's house to meet her sole remaining relative.
She again let her mind wander. That day seemed both distant and immediate. She could still picture the food that Edith had put on her table. She could picture Joel. She could recall the bruises on his face, the sadness in his eyes, and the dejection in his voice as he struggled to explain events he knew would change their world forever. She could remember all that followed.
Grace looked at the happy people around her and resisted the temptation to cry. She was not thankful that she had lost her husband, children, and former life. She was not thankful that she could not have them back. But she was thankful that they still existed in her mind. Memories mattered, even painful memories, and nothing, not even a time portal, could take them away.
CHAPTER 44: GRACE
Sunday, December 1, 1918
For forty minutes the seminary student, getting his first taste of the pulpit, had kept the congregation spellbound, combining Old Testament judgment and New Testament compassion with a contemporary message. Speaking without notes, he had covered numerous themes and had done so in a way that had clearly touched most of the parishioners. When he had finished, men clapped, mothers cried, and three hopelessly blond women in the front row smiled.
Grace laughed to herself a half hour later as she stood in the basement of Calvary Lutheran Church in north Seattle and pondered the various emotional reactions to the dynamic speaker. He had been as good as advertised and had certainly impressed the Green sisters of Falmouth, England. Though she did not know with absolute certainty what had moved her current companions and future aunt and mother, she had a pretty good idea.
Edith no doubt had loved the preacher's emphasis on social justice. He had cited Proverbs 22:16 no fewer than three times and had sung the praises of the poor no less than four. In one display of daring, he had tied the teachings of Christ to the policies of Woodrow Wilson.
Lucy, on the other hand, had surely succumbed to the speaker's rugged good looks. She had swooned the second the handsome man of the cloth, the one with thick sandy hair and a million-dollar smile, had stood at the pulpit and said hello. She nearly fainted when he looked her way halfway through his sermon.
Grace's interest in William Lincoln Vandenberg required no speculation. She had come to the late service not to hear a dynamic speaker or to see a handsome preacher. She had come to visit Dear Old Dad.
"Did you ladies enjoy Mr. Vandenberg?" Alistair asked as he handed the trio cups of tea. "I found him quite captivating. He is on loan to the congregation until he gets his call in March."
"I was very impressed," Edith said. "I don't believe I have ever heard an evangelist speak to my soul as clearly as this one. I'm sure he will go far."
"What did you think, Lucille?"
"I think he's heavenly."
Grace smiled when she heard Lucy's reply. She hadn't had much reason to smile since that awful night at the theater and relished every light moment that came her way. She now understood how and why her mother had taken to William Vandenberg so quickly.
"I trust you were also impressed, Grace."
Grace looked at her uncle and noted the sparkle in his eyes. She could see that he had looked forward to this service for some time.
"I was. I look forward to hearing more from him."
Alistair peered over the shoulders of his nieces and smiled.
"Well, let me give you that opportunity. I see him now."
A moment later, Alistair, a church trustee, escorted the preacher to a corner of the basement.
"William, I believe you've met my wife, Margaret, and daughter Penny."
"I have. It's nice to see you both again."
William shook hands with Margaret and bowed before Penny. The gestures brought a smile to the woman's face and sent the seven-year-old into the stratosphere.
"I don't believe you've met my nieces, Edith and Lucille. They are my brother's daughters. They arrived last month from England and intend to enroll at the university."
"It's a delight to meet you both," William said as he shook their hands.
Alistair put a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"I'd also like you to meet a good friend of our family, Grace Smith of Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Grace is staying with us until she gets settled in the area."
"It's my pleasure, Miss Smith."
"The pleasure's mine," Grace said.
Alistair smiled at the two and then acknowledged a wave from a man in the distance.
"Excuse me," he said as he left.
Grace stepped aside to allow Alistair to pass and then returned her attention to the morning's main attraction. She studied him for a moment and tried to reconcile the sight of this 22-year-old with the memory of an older father. Could this handsome, charming preacher be the same man who had bounced her on his knee and carried her on his shoulders? Of course he could.
She smiled when she thought of the many happy moments they had spent together, including the time he had taken her to a distant plantation in Africa to ride an elephant. Dad had never been one to waste time on "frivolous matters," but he had never considered his daughter's wishes frivolous. So when she had asked him to set up the ride shortly before her eighth birthday, he got right on it and fulfilled her wish within a week.
Grace expected William to return t
o the others after he shook her hand. She was more than a little surprised – and unnerved – when he didn't.
"Do you also plan to attend the university?" William asked.
"I do not, at least not right away," Grace replied.
"I see. Do you intend to stay in Seattle long?"
Grace looked at Edith, who seemed amused by William's interest in Grace, and then at Lucy, who did not. The sunnier half of the Green twins seemed downright appalled.
"I do," Grace said. "I hope to make this area my home."
William nodded and smiled as he gazed at the oldest of the three young women.
Grace didn't nod and didn't smile as she tried to avoid that gaze.
You can stop looking at me now. Lucy's the one you want.
Grace glanced at Margaret and saw her grinning from ear to ear. She had told her all about William Vandenberg and his connection to the family.
"Mr. Vandenberg, do you have plans for dinner?" Margaret asked. "If not, we would love to have you over this afternoon. Isn't that right, girls?"
Grace saw Penny, Edith, and Lucy nod like the bobble-head dolls she had seen at major league baseball games in 2001 and 2002. Lucy did so with a million-watt smile.
"Your kindness overwhelms me, Mrs. Green, as does the approval of your charges," William said. "I assume Miss Smith has no objections."
"I do not," Grace said. "Please join us."
"Well, that settles it then. I must first take care of a few matters here, but once I'm done my day is free. I'd be honored to join you."
"Very well," Margaret said. "Our address is in the church directory. Dinner is at one."
"I look forward to it," William said. "I'll see you then."
William walked away. When he vanished around a corner, Margaret instructed Penelope to find her father and tell him that she had invited Mr. Vandenberg to dinner. She then smiled at her nieces, grabbed Grace's hand, and pulled her aside.
"I know what you're thinking, and you don't have worry," she said. "I know for a fact that Captain Walker is also free this afternoon. I'll set an extra plate for dinner."
CHAPTER 45: GRACE
Grace had to give Margaret credit. She knew how to arrange people around a table almost as well as she knew how to arrange dinnerware on it.
Alistair and Margaret sat in their usual places at the ends of the table, with Penny, Bill, and Lucy on one side and Edith, John, and Grace on the other. If William Vandenberg wanted to get to know Grace better, he'd have to do so from a distance and in the presence of an Army officer.
Grace watched with interest as that officer tried a spoonful of vichyssoise, a chilled soup of puréed leeks, onions, potatoes and cream that had become something of a national craze since the start of the war.
"I warn you, Margaret, that dinner here could be habit forming," John Walker said. "Thanks for inviting me. The meal, as usual, is wonderful."
"Thank you, John. You know you're always welcome."
Grace looked at Bill and Lucy and wondered how it had happened all those years ago. She knew that her parents had met through the church, but she knew few details about their brief courtship. Had they been mutually attracted from the start? Had someone brought them together around a table like this? Had there been rivals for their affections?
She took a moment to ponder the possibilities when she once again remembered that she was a part of another time stream. Bill and Lucy might not fall in love in this one. They might instead go their separate ways and create different ripples and branches each step of the way.
"Tell me about your plans, William," Alistair said. "I know that you'll graduate this semester and that you'll soon get your call, but what are your long-term goals?"
"I'll go where the Lord sends me, Mr. Green, but I think I'd be happiest serving the church in a foreign land. It has always been my dream to serve those in greatest need and I believe the greatest need can be found in other parts of the world."
"I feel much the same way," Lucy said as she passed a plate of carrots. "I would love to live a life serving others, particularly those less fortunate than ourselves. Of course, I would also like to see more of the world. That is one reason I decided to come to Seattle. I wanted to get out of dreary old England."
Alistair laughed.
"Some might say you've traded one dreary place for another, Lucy," he said "The weather here can be awfully dreary this time of year."
"I'm speaking also of the people, Uncle," Lucy said with her nose to the air. "I've found the general disposition of the natives here to be quite satisfactory."
Grace bit her lip as she listened to her teenage mother. She could see that Lucille Green had been born with a half-full glass in her hand.
"Do you travel much, Lucy?" Bill asked.
"Indeed, I do. I go to London twice a year with Papa!"
Lucy turned red as laughter erupted around the table.
"That's the spirit, dear," Alistair said. "I'm sure you'll have many more opportunities to travel now that the war has ended."
"I, for one, commend you, Lucy – and you, too, Edith. It takes drive, even courage, to leave one's home at such a young age," Bill said. He looked at Lucy with tender eyes. "I admire your commitment to public service as well. Too many in this world would rather seek enrichment at home than the betterment of man abroad. Perhaps we can talk more about this after dinner."
Grace smiled as she watched Lucy beam and turn red again. She had just seen the first spark between her parents. How many people could say that? She had no doubt that Bill and Lucy would talk after dinner and that their talk would lead to the discovery of mutual interests.
She could see now that Margaret's interference had not been necessary. Bill and Lucy had been destined for each other from the start. Grace began to state her own view of public service when Margaret shifted the conversation back to the original topic.
"Have you seen much of the world, Bill?" she asked.
"I confess I have not. I had hoped to see France as a part of the war effort, but the Army found my feet too flat for their purposes."
"You didn't miss much," John said. "I was there nearly a year and saw little more than smoke and trenches – and carnage. You should be thankful."
"I am. I thank the Lord each day for those who served and sacrificed so that the rest of us could continue to enjoy the blessings of a free society," Bill said. "Alistair told me about your war wound, Captain. You have my profound thanks for your service to this country."
"You're welcome."
Grace looked at the young men at her table and saw much to admire. In Bill Vandenberg, she saw a religious man with pacifist views who had nonetheless volunteered to fight when so many of his peers had declared themselves conscientiously unfit to do so. In John Walker, she saw a conflicted warrior who had gone into combat and had paid not only a physical price but also a mental and emotional one that had yet to be calculated.
She thought also of Tom Carter and Joel Smith and the choices they had made in a different war. Tom had reluctantly submitted to the Army's call and given his life for a cause he may not have fully understood. Joel had avoided that same conflict by exercising an option available only to those who had known about a particularly useful Montana mine.
Grace didn't know who was right and who was wrong when it came to war, just as she didn't know who was right and who was wrong in other matters. She knew only that people made choices, sometimes difficult choices, and that those choices often led down one-way streets.
CHAPTER 46: LUCILLE
Uncle Alistair called the west-facing extension of the living room the nook. Margaret called it the plant room. Lucy called it the one place in the Green estate that she could talk privately with Bill Vandenberg without raising any eyebrows.
"How do you like living here?" Bill said.
Lucy took a sip of the tea that Margaret had put out and returned her attention to the heavenly creature on the other end of the love seat. She had already concluded that sitti
ng in a public area with a preacher on a Sunday beat any private encounter with a silly boy from the academy.
"I love it. Edith and I had to share a room at home. We have our own rooms here and a bathroom we share with Penny. I couldn't ask for anything more."
Bill smiled.
"Nothing more?"
"You're flirting with me, Bill Vandenberg."
"Would that be a bad thing?"
"It would be a dangerous thing. I'm susceptible to flirting, flattery, and flowers, in that order. My dear sister considers it a disorder."
"Then I shall have to speak to you as I would a typical parishioner."
"Don't you dare!" Lucy said. She switched to a softer voice. "I deserve better."
Bill laughed.
"I believe you do."
Lucy settled into her end of the sofa and smiled at her preacher, house guest, and possible suitor. She wasn't so sure about the suitor part. There was a distinct possibility that Bill was simply trying to hone his social skills heading into the ministry, but she didn't think so.
Lucy Green had been around the block enough times to recognize the difference between a twinkle and a sparkle in a young man's eye. A twinkle meant passing interest. A sparkle meant so much more. She knew from several glances at dinner that Bill was a sparkler.
Bill took a sip of tea and tried one of Margaret's delightful shortbread biscuits, the kind Scottish women could bake in their sleep but few others around the globe could duplicate. He nodded his approval of the treat.
"Give my compliments to your aunt. These are wonderful."
"I helped her bake them."
"Then I commend your culinary ability. It's first rate."
"I see you've moved onto flattery. Please continue."
Bill laughed again.
"I'll try to be more careful. I want to stay on the good side of the creator of the best shortbread biscuits I've ever tasted," he said. "But what I really want is to learn more about your ideas about public service. You seem passionate about helping others."
The Show (Northwest Passage Book 3) Page 18