Peggy sighed. "I'll see if I can think of something. Meanwhile," she said, making a visible effort to cheer up, "let's have a pleasant evening together."
Pleasant was a lukewarm word, and pretty well described the atmosphere in which they shared the meal. Harry said hardly anything at all, and Peggy spoke only to the children and Ben. Neither of the grandparents took much food to begin with, and didn't finish that. If it hadn't been for Maddie's standard play-by-play of the school day, dinner might have passed in total silence.
Afterward, Ben went back to the workshop to start on the drawer joints for the chest he was building. Careful carving, measuring and fitting kept his mind well occupied—except when he stopped to get a good breath or change tools, and his eyes fell on the phone...and he considered calling Cait. He managed to shake off the impulse every time. But he was glad when his eyes started to feel as rough as the sandpaper he was using, when his brain fogged up so all he could think about before he fell asleep was how good the pillow felt under his head. j
In the morning he picked Maddie and Shep up at the
Shepherds' and took them to the library, then to lunch at the Goodwill Diner, a fixture on the Avenue for more than fifty years. Back at the house, they threw a few slushy snowballs before rain drove them inside again. Shep settled down with an airplane book in the den. Ben pulled out the dust rag and vacuum, but before he could get too busy, Maddie followed him into the living room.
"Daddy?"
"Mmm?" He kept his back to her, lifting the framed photos on the mantel and dusting underneath them.
' 'Did you know Grandma has pictures of Mommy as a little girl?"
"I've seen them. You have, too, but you might not remember. You were about five, I guess."
"I look a lot like Mommy did."
Ben took a deep breath. "You do."
' 'There was a picture of her as the main angel in the pageant. She was really pretty."
"Yes." He started work on the bookshelves. [ "Do you think Miss Caitlyn would still let me share the angel part in the program with Brenna?"
"I don't know. I thought you didn't want to." j "I didn't. But Grandma says Mommy would expect me to be a real friend. And that means sharing."
Thank you, Peg, Ben told his mother-in-law silently. ' 'I believe she's right." j ' 'I guess I kinda thought—''
After a couple of minutes, he glanced at her. "Thought what?"
She shrugged. "I don't know...maybe that if I was the angel, and Mommy's an angel now..."
Ben closed his eyes as a giant hand wrung his heart like a rag.
Maddie sighed. ' 'But probably the best thing is for me
to share with Brenna. That way Mommy can be proud of me.
It was his turn to take a deep breath. "I know I'm really proud of you." Leaving the bookshelves, he sat beside her on the couch and drew her into a hug. "You're a very wise and special girl, to realize all these grown-up things."
Her head dropped against his shoulder. ' 'Being grownup is hard."
"Sometimes." He held her for another minute, then stood up. "Want to help me dust?"
She took the cloth and started on the coffee table. "When can we ask Miss Caitlyn if she'll let me be one of the angels?"
"She's coming over tomorrow after church to help me paint scenery for the pageant. We'll ask her then, okay?"
Maddie had regained her carefree smile, and her supreme self-confidence. "Okay! Won't she be happy to hear I'll sing after all?"
voice, lured his mind into fantasies he had no business indulging. Let alone acting out.
He cleared his throat. "She was hoping to...uh... connect with her mom by being an angel."
Cait nodded. "I remember how that feels. You just can't believe there's no way to keep the person you've lost with you. Anna and I played with a Ouija board a few years after my mom died. We thought she could talk to us that way." j
"She didn't, I guess."
"Not before my father caught us." She smiled, a little sadly. "I'd like to believe he was so furious because he wished we had a good idea. I know he missed my mom. But I think it's more likely we offended his religious sensibilities." |
"Some people are more open to alternatives than others."
"Yeah." She sat back on her heels, surveying her work. "He tends to be a my-way-or-the-highway kind of person. Or he was, anyway. I haven't seen him since I left home." I
"I don't think he's come to see Anna recently." That was probably a nosy remark. But Cait didn't seem to mind.
"He's been at a church in Florida for more than twenty years now. When we were growing up, he rarely took vacations—said he couldn't leave his flock. I imagine he still uses that excuse."
"Do you have other brothers or sisters besides Anna?"
"Nope. Just us."
"Then I bet he'll be up here when Anna's baby is born. Most people are dying to see their first grandkid. And all the others."
"You're probably right." Again she flipped the braid over her shoulder. "I hope I'm long gone by then."
Time for a change of subject. "What are you and Anna and Dave doing for Thanksgiving?"
"I thought I'd cook."
"Seriously?"
She turned around to stare at him, her hands on her hips. "Yes, seriously. What's the problem?"
Ben backpedaled quickly. "Well, I just got the impression—when you didn't know about pot roast—maybe cooking wasn't your strongest suit."
"That was several weeks ago. I've been practicing."
"Well, good. I hope everything goes...right."
"But you don't think it will."
He shrugged. "It's usually a pretty big meal, with lots of different foods that are all supposed to be ready at the same time. I've watched Peggy for the last fifteen years, and I still don't understand how she gets it all done."
Cait glared at him, her chin lifted. "Well, maybe you should just come to dinner and find out if I can manage to do the same. You and Maddie and Shep."
"I'd like to," he said with real regret, "but I know the Shepherds will be expecting us."
"So I'll invite them, too. I'm sure Anna and David would love to have company for dinner on Thanksgiv-mg.
"You're going to make Thanksgiving dinner for eight people?"
"Sure. Why not?"
It was hard to resist the challenge in her eyes. Ben decided not to try. "Then we'll be glad to come. Watching you prepare the annual feast is something I don't want to miss."
Wednesday afternoon before Thanksgiving Day found the children making steady progress with their pageant performance. Choir and wise men had the chorus of their song, "We Three Kings," memorized, but the verses needed a lot of work. The angels, mostly girls, had mastered "Joy to the World" easily. As for the shepherds, at least they had four more weeks to practice before Christmas Eve. Cait felt reasonably confident that the program would be ready.
And then she would be free again. Whatever that meant.
Maddie and Brenna were staying to practice their song tonight after the other children went home. They were talented enough to sing separate parts, but fitting them together was a new experience.
"Don't wait so long on that note for 'laid', Brenna. Just four beats, while Maddie sings her echo."
"Yes, ma'am." I
"Let's do it again."
"Again?" Maddie was obviously impatient. "I sang it right. I'm tired of doing this part." j
"A little more practice won't hurt." Cait didn't soften the words with a smile. Maddie wasn't making the rehearsal process any easier. When the little girl had said she wanted to sing with Brenna, Cait had thought that was the end of the problem. j
Instead, Maddie exacted her revenge in a subtler way, by simply being difficult. The rift in her friendship with Brenna was plain to see. Cait didn't know how to repair the damage, so she could only regret ever having proposed the duet to begin with and persevere. Maybe they would all learn something before the end. ]
On the next run-through, Brenna did he
r part correctly and Maddie made the mistake. "Again," Cait said.
Brenna sniffed in unmistakable comment.
Cait sighed. "Second verse, girls."
By the time they had gotten through the verses without a glitch, Karen Patterson stood in the back of the church waiting. Cait got up from the organ bench. "This week, work on memorizing the words, so you don't need the music."
Both girls pulled on their coats without comment. Karen looked around. "Where's Shep?"
"He was doing homework in that front pew." Cait walked over to see the worksheets, papers and pencils scattered on the seat cushion, but no little boy. "All the doors are locked, so he hasn't gone far. Let me go find him—sometimes he plays in the robing room."
She went through the door beside the stage into the large closet where music, candles and David's robes were stored. The light was on, but she'd probably left it that way. At first glance the room appeared empty. Cait started to turn away to check the church office down the hall, but a small sound stopped her.
Not a sound, actually. A melody. The tune for "Silent Night." Hummed in a little boy's voice.
Listening, she heard a roughness in the tones, as if the voice weren't used much. But the pitch was accurate, the simple song sweetly nuanced.
Shep Tremaine could sing.
"Shep?" With her soft use of his name, the humming stopped. "Shep, Mrs. Patterson is here to take you home."
No response, no movement. Cait considered the cramped space in the room and decided the hanging robes would make good cover. She sat down on the floor beside the row of long black gowns and began to hum a tune of her own—"Row, Row, Row Your Boat."
When the song ended, she waited. After a minute of silence, she got a melody in reply. "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore."
Cait grinned, then hummed "Three Blind Mice."
Shep answered with a verse of "Old MacDonald Had a Farm."
Aware that Karen was still waiting, Cait risked a couple of lines from the children's farewell song in The Sound of Music.
Under the robes, Shep heaved a sigh. Finally, he crawled out on his hands and knees to stare at her. Then Karen's voice came from outside. "Cait? Did you find him?"
Shep's gaze asked a very specific question. Cait nodded quickly. "I promise," she said without sound. Then she called out, "In the robing room, Karen." Getting to her feet, she held out her hand to Shep. He allowed her to pull him up, and they met Karen at the door. "Here we
go-Karen shook her head at the little boy. "Your dad
would chop my head off if I told him I'd left you somewhere in the church to spend the night. You know how he counts on you to wash the dishes!" She smiled and put a hand on Shep's shoulder. Cait let go of him, stepped back and followed the pair into the sanctuary to collect the girls.
But for the rest of the night she thought about Shep's singing. Why would he make music and not words? Why hadn't he been humming along with the choir?
Wouldn't Ben be thrilled to know that his son was taking steps to communicate again?
She couldn't tell him right away, of course. Shep wasn't ready to have his secret revealed. Betraying his trust might send him back into his refuge of silence. First she would
have to gain his confidence, ease him into using the words of the songs, not just the tunes, and then into talking.
As soon as possible, she would tell Ben what was happening. Cait could imagine his reaction when he discovered that Shep had been "talking" and he hadn't been told immediately. But the thrill of hearing his son's voice would surely mitigate his anger. Either way, Ben's displeasure was a small price to pay for getting Shep to talk again.
Okay, maybe not so small. He was a closer friend than she'd had in a long, long time...maybe the closest, except for Anna. Even if they couldn't be romantically involved, Cait wanted him to remember her kindly when she left again.
Which would be two days from now, at least temporarily. She'd told Russell she would do the short gig in Vegas—she'd fly out of Dulles Airport early Friday morning, perform two shows on each Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights, then catch some sleep and be back in Goodwill Tuesday morning. Peggy Shepherd had said she would look after Anna when David couldn't be home.
First, though, there was Thanksgiving dinner to get done. Anna had reminded her to thaw the turkey yesterday—wouldn't it have been just great to serve a frozen bird and watch Ben's face say / told you so? She'd bought the traditional pumpkin, pecan and mincemeat pies at a bakery up in Winchester. No way would she try to make pastry crust just to impress Ben Tremaine.
Though it would be fun to see him gulp if she had.
So tomorrow, she thought sleepily, tumbling into bed, all I have to do is throw the turkey into the oven. Cook the dressing and mashed potatoes and green beans. Cranberry sauce. Oh, and Anna had asked for deviled eggs. David wanted yeast rolls. Peggy had said she always made
sweet potato casserole for her family, and had offered to bring it with her, but Cait had asked for the recipe, instead. This was going to be her shot at a real holiday dinner—maybe the only one she'd ever prepare from start to finish. She would make it a success, and she'd do it all on her own!
Anna blinked back tears as she looked around her dining room. Cait had managed a miracle. The table glowed with candlelight and gold mums arranged in a green vase their mother had always used. On the dark-green cloth, her own cream-colored stoneware, gold goblets and silver place settings richly complimented the bounteous meal steaming on the sideboard. Every dish, from the crisply browned turkey to the fresh cranberry sauce, looked perfect.
"How wonderful," Peggy said. "Caitlyn, this is just fabulous."
"Thanks." Cait set fresh rolls on the table. "I had a really good time. But I couldn't have done it all without Anna's directions."
' 'If you ever decide to get out of music, you could go into the restaurant business." Harry Shepherd looked tired, and the effort he'd made to entertain since he and Peggy had arrived this afternoon was obvious.
Maddie tugged on her dad's sleeve. "Can we eat now?"
"I think Pastor Dave is going to say a prayer first." Ben hadn't said anything about the food, which Anna found strange. But then his behavior whenever Cait was around simply defied explanation.
Standing at the head of the table, David cleared his throat. "Good idea." Everyone bowed their heads.
Everyone except Anna. It was irreverent, maybe even rude. But instead of participating in the grace, she
watched her husband. His hands gripped the back of his chair, and his knuckles were white with pressure. He'd lost weight—his slacks hung on his hips, his sweater was too big. And he was a man who didn't have any pounds to spare.
Mostly, it was his face that had changed. His eyes were heavy-lidded, red-rimmed, as if he didn't sleep enough. The lines across his high forehead and the creases around his mouth had become deep furrows. His voice carried a permanent rasp.
And why? What was wrong? Anna finally closed her eyes to keep the tears from falling. Was it her? Or the baby? Or the whole difficult situation that he'd realized he just couldn't bear, but didn't know how to escape?
"Amen." David lifted his head and grinned. "Now, I think it's time to sample this delicious food. Anna, I'll make your plate."
Anna smiled at him and clutched her hands together in her lap. She felt like she'd been released from prison, to be out of her bed, wearing clothes again. The doctor had given her permission to attend the dinner, as long as she sat down right away and didn't stay up for more than two hours.
So she should take advantage of this time with her friends and Cait and David. Who knew when—or if— there would ever be another celebration like this one?
David brought her a huge plate of food, then Harry sat down beside her. She turned to him with pleasure. ' 'How have you been? I'm sure you're keeping busy, even if you aren't going to work anymore. I've never known someone with as many projects planned as you seem to have."
He didn't laugh. He bar
ely smiled. "I...do what I can."
Under cover of the others getting their food and sitting
down, Anna put her hand on over his on the table. "Is something wrong? Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, Anna." He held her gaze with his own somber brown stare. "How are you?"
"Pretty well, all things considering." She smiled at him, though he watched her almost suspiciously. "As soon as the baby comes, we'll all settle down and be fine." At least that's what she promised herself. "David worries too much right now. I'll be glad when I can take some of the responsibilities off his shoulders."
Harry looked at his plate and pushed the dressing around. "Are you all set up for the baby to arrive?"
"Oh, definitely. I spent the summer buying linens and wallpaper and baby furniture. It was so much fun."
After a second, he cleared his throat. "I remember those days."
"I'm sure you do." She'd met the Shepherds' daughter only when the Tremaine family visited Harry and Peggy, but had liked her very much. "Are you and Peggy planning to do some traveling, now that you have the time?"
Harry looked at her again, and she saw real pain in his eyes. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. Doesn't seem to matter much where I am, one way or the other." He sounded...beaten.
"Well, Peggy wouldn't go anywhere without you." Across the table, Cait was sitting between Maddie and Shep, talking to both of them, making them smile. ' 'Imagine all the places you could show Maddie and Shep."
Now Harry covered her hand with his. "You're sweet to be thinking about me. But you take care of yourself and that baby of yours." He forked up a bite of Cait's mashed potatoes, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. |
Though Anna let him go and turned to her own meal,
Harry's attitude stayed on her mind. Was Peggy aware of his mood, so unlike his usual cheerfulness? It was easy enough not to understand your husband's thoughts, if he didn't want you to know.
Maybe she couldn't manage her own situation, but Anna felt compelled to at least try to improve Harry's. Peggy might not yet realize what Harry was going through.
But she would in the very near future.
Anna went back to bed after the meal, and Maddie took Shep into the living room to watch a Christmas video. The rest of the adults helped Cait clear the table, put away leftovers and load the dishwasher.
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