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A Simple Charity

Page 12

by Rosalind Lauer


  “I’ve got to get back to work, but this was a nice surprise.” He placed a twenty onto the bill and headed out, stopping to acknowledge and shake hands with a few other diners on the way to the door.

  Everyone seemed to like Jack, though that was no surprise. His friendly manner, earnest concern, and ready smile appealed to young and old. And personally, Meg had always found something downright attractive about a man in uniform. She knew her sister was trying to do a bit of matchmaking, but that was just silly with Meg living so far away. Still, Jack’s presence at dinner would make Thanksgiving a bit more interesting. Meg was looking forward to it.

  “What a feast!” Jack said, looking over to the sideboard laden with platters of turkey, stuffing, vegetables in cheese or butter, mashed potatoes, and rolls.

  Jack didn’t know the half of it. Meg and Zoey had gotten up early that morning—even before the Macy’s parade had begun on television—to get their birds in the oven. They had used the double ovens in the inn’s kitchen to roast two turkeys with sage stuffing, one of which Tate had shuttled over to a shelter in Lancaster while the sisters continued cooking their evening meal. Dear Zoey had a good and generous heart.

  Meg took her seat at the table festively adorned with candles, orange mums, and white roses. “You’ve really outdone yourself this year, Zoey.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without your help, sis. But you know I love to do things up over the holidays, and this year, we’ve got so much to be thankful for.” Zoey placed the brocade napkin on her belly and gave it a pat. “So I guess I’ll start off the thankfulness and say how grateful I am to be living in this wonderful little town with the man I love and a baby on the way.” She clasped her hands together and turned to her husband.

  “And I’m grateful to Zoey for getting me out of the Wall Street jungle and into the land of milk and honey.” Tate’s graying brows lifted as he surveyed the dinner guests. “Every day I thank the Lord for my growing family and this good life He’s led us to.”

  “And I’m thankful to have a job that I love and a chance to go back to school,” Shandell said.

  Shandell’s mother, Chelsea, was grateful to have found a new start here in Lancaster County after a few years in Maryland that she described as “trying.”

  “I’m thankful to be here sharing this awesome dinner,” Jack said. “And Chelsea, in many ways you and I are on the same road. Halfway has been a fresh start for me, a do-over. God gave me the chance to start with a clean slate in a small town where folks look out for their neighbors and lend a hand to strangers. Living in Halfway, I’ve got reason to give thanks every day.”

  “Okay, then.” A gust of emotion made Meg’s eyes blur over the burst of color in the flower arrangements. She wasn’t one to expose her feelings, but there was no dancing around the facts of the past year. “I am thankful to be able to keep doing the job I love, delivering babies. It’s been a rocky road this year. I … I lost a baby … one of the infants I was delivering and …” She took a breath to steady her nerves. “I thought they were going to kick me out of the profession and throw away the key. But they didn’t.”

  “Of course they didn’t,” Zoey said. “You’re good at what you do. The best.”

  “Thanks. I know my heart is in the right place. So I’m grateful to be working as a midwife. And very grateful to be here with you all tonight.”

  Tate nodded. “You’re always welcome, Meg. Now … the blessing?” He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. “Good bread, good meat, good God, let’s eat!”

  “Oh, honey.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “Boys will be boys.” She reached over and took the hands of Tate and Meg on either side of her and bowed her head to thank God for the bountiful meal.

  After dinner everyone pitched in. The large industrial kitchen made cleanup easy, and Zoey was excited to try their mother’s recipe for turkey noodle soup with the leftovers. Shandell and Chelsea left for a late movie—their Thanksgiving tradition—while Tate, Zoey, Jack, and Meg settled into sofas in front of the inn’s broad stone fireplace.

  “Isn’t it nice that Shandell and her mom have that movie tradition on Thanksgiving?” Zoey snuggled closer to Tate on the sofa. “We need some tradition, sweetie. Something to pass down to the baby.”

  Tate lifted her hand as if she were royalty. “It’s not enough that you get up at the crack of dawn to cook for the mission supper? Or the family gathering for dinner?”

  “Well, that’s sort of a tradition,” Zoey said, yawning.

  Meg could see that her sister was fading. “It’s a wonderful way to start Thanksgiving, even if it does require getting up so early.”

  “Sorry, but the early morning is catching up with me, and baby needs sleep.” Zoey sighed. “I’m going up to bed. But you guys stay. Eat, drink, and be merry.”

  Tate wasn’t far behind his wife, and soon Meg found herself nursing a cup of tea by the fire, alone with Jack. There was something very freeing about being away from the commitment to her expectant mothers, something so comforting about spending time in the Halfway to Heaven inn. Zoey and Tate had made a peaceful retreat here. Although this had all the makings of one of Zoey’s grand matchmaking schemes, Meg reminded herself that she and Jack had actually been the ones to initiate a relationship. And they weren’t starting from scratch.

  “I have to say, it’s nice to have a conversation with you that can extend beyond three lines of text.”

  He nodded. “Nothing like face time. But with you living hundreds of miles away, you gotta make some compromises. Besides, I’m an awesome texter, right?”

  With a chuckle, she leaned back into the plush sofa. “You do make me laugh. I look forward to your messages.”

  He grinned. “Snap. I was going to text you from across the table tonight at dinner, at the beginning. You looked so mad at me, I was glad we were separated by the salt and pepper.”

  She pressed her eyes closed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “What was that? Let me guess. I wasn’t hip to it at the time, but now I’m thinking that you thought Kat and I were married.”

  She shot him a look. “I was so furious. Mad and disappointed with you.”

  He grinned. “Meggie-Margaret. I’m not that guy. And I’d never do anything to make you mad at me. At least, not deliberately.”

  Thinking back on the swell of anger and anxiety in that moment, Meg let out a sigh. “That was a near disaster. I’m so glad you redeemed yourself,” she teased.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  She turned to him, and they both fell into laughter. It was easy to laugh with Jack, easy to snuggle against him on the couch and ask him questions about his family, his dreams. There were so many stories to tell, so many blank pages to fill, and she was hungry for the details of Jack’s life.

  “So I got my training with Philadelphia’s police force,” Jack was saying, “and when I wanted to come out this way to be near Kat and Brendan, it just so happened that Halfway was looking for a deputy. I figured it was meant to be. Hank offered me the job, I said giddyup, and here I am.”

  “And that was in January? So you’re coming up on your first year here. How do you like it?”

  “Let’s just say I stepped into a Norman Rockwell painting. That’s Halfway: good folks, good neighbors. People following the Golden Rule. Let me tell you, it’s a long way from Philadelphia, in more ways than one.”

  “A Norman Rockwell painting. Freckle-faced kids and dogs and a smiling milkman?”

  “Exactly. I’m the cop in the diner, trying to talk the little kid with the hobo sack out of running away.”

  She squinted at him, pretending to assess his broad jaw, wide mouth, and warm eyes. “Yes, I see the resemblance. A cop with a good heart.”

  He smacked a hand to his chest. “Shucks. I try not to let it show.” He put his mug down on the end table. “How about you? What brought you to Pittsburgh?”

  “My mom and stepfather live there. It’s where I w
ent to nursing school. I still have friends there, but you know how that goes. People get married, have kids and jobs. It’s hard to get together, especially with the demands of my job. You try to schedule things, and the best-laid plans go up in smoke.”

  “I hear you. Believe me, I used to hear a lot of complaints when I had to work weekends or holidays.”

  “From your girlfriend?” she asked.

  “Fiancée, but that’s over now.”

  From the way his gaze sank back toward the fire, she sensed that she’d hit a nerve.

  “Was it a difficult breakup?”

  “You could say that. We grew up together. Lisa and I were together for more than fifteen years.”

  Fifteen years … it made Meg feel like a novice in the world of relationships. “You definitely earn points for that one. I haven’t been in a relationship for more than a year. That’s a tough one.”

  “Yeah. It was good for the first ten years or so. After that … I don’t know. Her family just about adopted me when I lost my parents. My grandmother loved her. We were a couple for such a long time that when it ended, it was hard to delineate that line between us.”

  Meg was reminded of the many couples she had worked with over the years, people from varied backgrounds and ethnicities. Many shared a common bond—a love that brought them close together. It was always a pleasure to work with a cohesive couple like that. Others … well, when there was an obvious dysfunction, Meg was not surprised to learn, years after she assisted in a birth, that the parents were no longer together. “Do you ever want to go back? I mean, maybe it’s not really over.”

  “Oh, it’s over all right. There’s no going back.” She sensed the wound then, a sore spot that had not completely healed over. What had this Lisa done to him? She craved details, but it wasn’t her place to dredge the channels of his former relationships.

  “Is it still awkward when you run into her?” she asked.

  “I’ll say. Fortunately, she’s back in Philly. I got me a fresh start out here in Halfway. No ghosts of girlfriends past lurking when I come around the corner.”

  She chuckled softly. “I doubt your fiancée was lurking.”

  “Oh, she was a lurker, all right. But that’s all past. How about you? I’m not seeing any bling on that ring finger.”

  “I’m still footloose and fancy-free.”

  “A beautiful girl like you? Where you been hiding yourself?”

  “You are such a sweet-talker, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “As I mentioned, my job is not very relationship-friendly. Childbirth is unpredictable; it makes for a highly erratic schedule. When you cancel two or three times, guys get annoyed.”

  “I have an irregular schedule, so I would get it.”

  “Maybe you would. Too bad you don’t live in Pittsburgh.”

  “Nah. I wouldn’t do a big city again. I’m thinking you might want to step up your visits here. That way we could spend some time together. See if this hunch I have is right.”

  She smiled up at him. “A hunch?”

  He nodded. “And I have pretty good instincts. It’s a cop thing.”

  “And what do your instincts tell you about me?”

  “That I can trust you. That you’ve got your feet on the ground and your eyes on the sky.” He took the empty mug from her hands and set it on the end table. “That there’s something sizzling like a live wire between us.”

  “Did you just take my tea away?”

  “It’s cold, and I don’t want it to spill when I kiss you.”

  “Is that where this is going?” She drew the question out in a low, teasing voice.

  “Yeah, girl,” he said in that south Philly, bluesy way.

  She almost laughed at being called a girl, but wasn’t that how he made her feel? Young and spontaneous and free. Giddy and smart and pretty.

  She could feel the heat of his body as he moved closer, resting his arm above her head on the sofa. He smelled clean, a lemony scent, and when his lips met hers she tasted coffee and yearning … such tender desire in that short but heated contact.

  Without words, she pressed against him for another kiss and gave him the answer that burned deep in her heart.

  15

  Two days after Emma and Gabe King’s wedding, Zed was at the Lapp house, trying to get back to work. There was still much to do to finish the place by January, and he’d been off the job for a few days on account of the wedding. He’d been happy to be included among the group of people helping out at the Kings’ dairy farm. There’d been all sorts of tasks that needed to be done, including landscaping, setting up furniture for the wedding, and wrangling horses for the guests. On the wedding day, Zed had been happy to have tasks that kept him away from the social gathering and the likes of Dorcas and Becca. It was getting harder to fend them off without hurting their feelings, but he kept turning down their dinner invitations or notions that he might attend a bonfire.

  Today Zed had thought he might finish priming the trim around the carriage house doors, but when he saw Gabe trying to balance a set of box springs on the cart, he knew the younger man needed help.

  Zed looped the rope around the runners of a rocking chair, pulled it taut, and tied a knot. “Ya, that’s not going anywhere.” He stepped back and looked up at the mountain of furniture piled onto the cart.

  Gabe King tested the edge of the wooden rocker and found that it was secure, despite the fact that it hung precariously over the edge of the cart. “It’s good and tight. Where’d you learn to pack a cart, Zed?”

  “Here and there. I’ve helped my brothers and sisters move out of the house.”

  “I told Emma we needed some furniture,” Gabe said as he pushed a basket in behind a mattress. “I didn’t know she’d find us so much.”

  “It’s just a few things Fanny said we could take,” Emma called from behind the cart, where she was tying up plastic bags filled with books. “And you’ll be happy tonight when you’re sleeping on a real bed instead of the hard floor.”

  “You’re right about that,” Gabe called back to her. “How’s it going with those books?”

  “I think I’ve sorted through all the ones I want to keep,” she said, coming around the side of the cart. “These others I promised to pass on to Leah.”

  “Giving them to my sister?” A slow smile spread on Gabe’s face. “So either way, they need to get packed in the cart.” He shot a leery look at Zed, and they both chuckled.

  “Maybe we can stuff a few more things under the mattress,” Zed said, frowning up at the top-heavy cart.

  “I don’t think we can add a single feather to this heap,” Emma said. “How about if I follow in the buggy? There’s plenty of room for the books in there.”

  “We’re going to need a buggy for sure,” Gabe said. While he headed off to get the buggy, Emma went inside to say good-bye to Fanny, who had been working on wash with Elsie’s assistance. Moments later, everyone filed out of the house to marvel at the overloaded cart for themselves.

  “Oh, my …” Fanny pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes bright with mirth. “Looks like you’ve packed everything but the kitchen sink. But there’s not an inch to spare. Where will you sit?”

  “Right here.” Gabe scurried up onto the mound and wedged himself into a spot between the chest of drawers and the washing machine. “See that? There’s room for one.”

  “And I’ll follow in the buggy with Elsie,” Emma said. “We’ll need help setting things up, and you have a good eye,” she told her sister.

  “Can I go along?” Will asked, trying to climb into the cart behind Gabe.

  “Me, too.” Beth took Emma’s hand. “I have good eyes.”

  “You can ride with us in the buggy.” Emma pointed to the bags of books. “I’ll put you to work carrying the small things.”

  “Unless you need our help here,” Elsie told Fanny. “I can stay behind.”

  But Fanny waved off the idea. “Go on, help
the newlyweds. Most of the washing has been hung, and we’ve got a good dry day for it. The chores will be finished in no time.”

  Delighted to have an adventure ahead, the children got to work toting the sacks of books over to the buggy. Zed and Gabe hitched two horses to the heavy cart, while Emma and Elsie supervised the loading of the buggy.

  Minutes later they were ready to go. In his niche atop the heap of furniture, Gabe might have been riding a wild elephant down the road.

  “Look at Gabe,” Fanny said with an amused smile. “He’s having fun driving that cart.”

  “Gabe likes a challenge.”

  “Then he’ll be good with Emma. She likes to push folks to the next step, whether it’s reading and writing or opening a business.”

  Zed and Fanny watched as the bulky cart lumbered down the lane like a lazy cow. The buggy followed at a safe distance, the children turning back to wave just before they disappeared behind the nearest house.

  “Off to their new life. I’m going to miss having Emma here.” Fanny gave a sigh. “I’d better check on Tommy.”

  Gravel crunched under her feet as she went around the side of the garage, leaving Zed to wonder if he should go after her. He could tell that something wasn’t quite right, but it wasn’t his place to pry. If Fanny wanted to let him in, she would tell him her troubles as they went over the renovation or shared coffee in the morning.

  Rooting around inside the garage, Zed found the can of primer and a clean paintbrush. It would be good to cover the new wood before the weather got too wet. He headed over to the carriage house, passing the rose, green, purple, and blue dresses, pants, shirts, and curtains hung on the lines, like rows of thick trees in the Lapp orchard.

  As he neared the back porch, he saw Fanny’s feet emerging from a forest of laundry hanging over the porch. He opened his mouth to tease her about finding her way out of that maze of cloth when he heard the muffled whimper.

 

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