“Thank you,” she responded softly. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
“Well, I mean every word of it.” He smiled, pale eyes sparkling in the morning sunlight. “Now, I expect you’ll tell me anytime you need help around here. You’ll do that, won’t you?”
“I’ll be sure to. I promise. I’m going over to visit my aunt Linny now,” Kate said. “Please stay as long as necessary. A crew will be here within the hour to finish the painting. I hope they won’t be in your way.”
“Oh, no,” Mr. Brumfield said. “It’s John Lewis and his boys, I suspect. He’ll do a fine job for you.”
Kate said good-bye then climbed into her car to leave. As she pulled down the drive, her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and was surprised to see Harcourt Insurance, the name of Leslie’s employer, on the touch screen of her iPhone. She quickly answered the call. “Hello? Leslie?” She tried to sound casual, like it wasn’t a landmark event for her cousin to call her voluntarily.
“Hi, Kate . . . listen, I need a favor. Are you busy?”
“No,” Kate responded. “I’m just leaving the house. I was going to check on Linny, but those are my only plans. What can I do for you?”
“Actually, it’s Emily. I just got a call. She’s not feeling well and needs to be picked up. But I’m the only person in the office today, and I can’t leave to do it. Normally, I would’ve called Mom or Linny, but with her ankle, she can’t drive, and well, I just didn’t know who else to call.”
Kate was suddenly nervous to spend time alone with her niece.
It’s what you wanted, Kate—the opportunity to spend time with Leslie’s children.
“I’ll be happy to pick her up. Is she at the school? Wait, it’s spring break, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, she’s at a day camp over at the YMCA. They said they’d have her wait at the front desk.”
“I’ll go there first, then, and if she feels up to it, we’ll check on Linny together.”
“Thanks, Kate.”
Kate hung up the phone and turned left toward town and the YMCA. She found Emily sitting in a swivel chair behind the counter, drinking apple juice from a juice box and reciting the fifty states and their capitals for the youth director.
“You don’t look sick to me.” Kate smiled as she leaned over the counter and looked at her niece.
“Hello, Aunt Kate,” Emily responded, though she didn’t smile back at first. “There were boys in my group who were mean, mean, mean to me. So I didn’t want to stay.”
Kate was surprised at her straightforward reply. She wasn’t even going to pretend to be sick, not even for Kate’s entertainment.
The director stood and quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry. She really did tell me she was ill. Perhaps I can talk to the children involved and we can work this out so she can stay.”
“It’s really okay,” Kate replied quickly. “I think I’d actually enjoy her company. I don’t mind taking her with me as long as she’s up for it.” Kate glanced over at Emily, half expecting her to change her mind and race back to the mean, mean, mean boys in her group. Instead, Emily nodded her head, slid down from the chair, and reached out for Kate’s hand. Kate slid Emily’s hand into her own and the two walked companionably to the car.
“I don’t have a booster seat, Aunt Kate. What should I do?” Emily climbed into the backseat of Kate’s sedan and looked at her expectantly.
“A booster seat?” This was new territory. Did Emily think she could simply pull a booster seat out of her back pocket or her trunk or the Mary Poppins bag people who were actually prepared to spend the day with children must keep with them at all times?
“I guess I don’t have one, Emily. Can you just buckle your seat belt without a booster seat for this one drive?”
“That is against the law!” Emily was shocked at Kate’s suggestion.
“Well, I guess you could go back inside to the mean, mean, mean boys in your group,” Kate said casually. “And then your mom can pick you up when she gets off work this afternoon.”
Emily pondered her aunt’s words and then said quietly, “Grandma had a booster seat in her car.”
Kate’s heart broke at the sound of those tender words and all that they implied.
“Would you like to pick up your booster seat from your grandma’s car?” she asked gently. “Then we can go see Aunt Linny.”
Emily was pleased with the plan and quickly buckled her seat belt. Kate was sure Mary had been a rock for Leslie’s children through their father’s illness and passing. She hadn’t thought about how much Mary’s death had affected them.
She pulled up to a stoplight two blocks from Main Street in downtown Rose Creek and looked at the surrounding buildings. Kate noticed a few small changes, but overall, the town seemed just as it always had. The light changed and Kate pulled forward, turning right onto Main Street. It was a narrow, one-way road that climbed upward until it reached the courthouse in the center of town. The surrounding shops and restaurants were squeezed in tightly, brick-and-mortar fingers clinging to the sides of the road as it descended sharply away from the town center.
Kate stopped at the next light. To her surprise, she noticed Andrew Porterfield leaving the courthouse, a large roll of papers in hand. He was dressed as he had been the day before—casual work clothes and thick, heavy boots. At the bottom of the courthouse stairs, a large golden retriever stood up and joined him as he walked toward a white truck parked just a few cars up from where Kate sat. She watched as he opened the passenger door for the dog and then, crossing over to the driver’s side, climbed in behind the wheel. This was the third time in four days that Kate had run into this man. Even in small towns like Rose Creek, residents didn’t run into the same people that often. Yet their meetings were so spontaneous; there was no logical way to deem them anything other than strange coincidence. But coincidence or not, Kate wished her interactions with Andrew could involve more than just staring after his car, now pulling ahead of her into the flow of traffic.
“Aunt Kate?” Emily’s tiny voice piped up from the backseat.
“Hmm?” The light turned green, and Kate pulled across the intersection, glancing one last time at Andrew, who was now turning down a side street and moving out of Kate’s range of vision.
“Do you know that man you were staring at?”
Kate blushed. Was this girl really only five years old?
“Um, no, not really,” she said. “I met him once before, but I don’t know him all that well.”
“He looked like a nice man,” Emily said sincerely. “He had a pretty dog.”
“It was a pretty dog, wasn’t it? Do you have any pets, Emily?”
“No,” Emily said. “Nicholas is allergic to cats, just like Daddy was. And Mommy says dogs are too much work.”
Kate smiled. She remembered the countless conversations Leslie had had with her parents the summer after sixth grade when she was desperately trying to convince Uncle Grey to get her a puppy. He had finally conceded, and Leslie had brought home a scruffy little terrier she named Ralphy. Ralphy was cute for about three weeks, until he started barking and chewing and causing trouble all over the house. Kate still remembered the look on Leslie’s face when Ralphy chewed through her brand-new pair of white cheerleading shoes she hadn’t even worn once. Uncle Grey never said I told you so, but within a week, Ralphy found a new home with someone much less sensitive to chewed shoes.
Back at the house, Kate pulled the car onto the gravel drive and ran in to get Mary’s keys, which were still hanging on the hook by the door. Sam was planning on taking the car. He had been driving the same old Honda since before med school and could benefit from something newer, but the wounds had been too fresh when he’d left on Monday to take it then. It had seemed almost disrespectful to drive Mary’s car away from her home so soon after her death. So he’d left it, planning to return in the next few weeks to drive it home. Kate walked over to the tan Subaru and retrieved the booster seat from the
back. She was ill prepared for the ensuing emotional assault on her senses. The inside of the car smelled of fresh vegetables and lavender, coriander and honeysuckle. It smelled of Mary. Kate sat down in the backseat, still holding on to the booster seat, and spent a moment just breathing it all in. “Oh, Mary,” she whispered gently. “If you only knew how much we miss you.”
Remembering Emily, Kate stepped out of the car and walked quickly back to her own. It wasn’t a big, fancy car, as Leslie had accused the night before at the hospital. It was a Volvo, albeit a nice, more-on-the-expensive-side, fully equipped Volvo. But still, it wasn’t a Mercedes or BMW, though she technically could have afforded one if she’d wanted. She did have some modicum of modesty when it came to how she spent her money. Her salary wasn’t out-of-the-ballpark impressive, but because she had only one person to spend her money on, it was a bit easier to pamper herself with the niceties of life.
Kate thought of Leslie and the meager salary she earned working as an administrative assistant at Harcourt Insurance group. She wished the sum of money Leslie had just inherited had been a bit more so Leslie didn’t have to continue working at a job she probably didn’t enjoy. After all, Leslie had only ever wanted to stay at home with her children, but working had become necessary after Tom’s death.
“Here you go, Miss Emily,” Kate said as she handed the booster seat to her niece. “Are you hungry? What do you say we pick up some lunch and take it over to Linny?”
“Sounds good to me,” Emily said. She settled into her seat, obviously more comfortable with the law-abiding booster firmly beneath her.
Chapter 12
All was well at Linny’s house, though the phone had gone unanswered all morning. Charles was sleeping in his recliner, and Linny, with her broken ankle, was unable to get to the phone in time to answer each time it rang.
“If you had a cordless telephone, you could just carry it with you everywhere you go,” Kate suggested, knowing Linny would not agree with her.
“Why would I buy a new phone when this old phone works perfectly well? If I talk on the phone so much I need to carry it around the house with me, well, then I’m talking too much, and I’d be better off without a phone at all.”
Kate shook her head, exasperated with the lovable, stubborn woman. “It’s a matter of safety, Linny.” Kate tried again. “I’ll even buy the phone for you, and then we can donate your old one to Goodwill, where someone else, someone without a broken foot, can stand up and walk across the house to answer the phone every time it rings.”
“Or I’ll just do fine for the next few weeks until I get to feeling better.”
“How are we supposed to know you’re doing fine if every time we call, no one answers?”
“Well, I . . . oh, humph.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat, but she still managed to have the last word. “It better not be some fancy, hard-to-operate thing, or I’ll throw it in the trash as quick as you buy it.”
Kate hugged Linny and sat down across from her on the couch. “I’ll pick the simplest one I can find. I promise.”
The two women talked while Emily ate her Happy Meal and watched cartoons.
“I dare say, it is good news she called you to get Emily, isn’t it? I’m not sure that would have happened if not for last night,” Linny said.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t have happened. I’m glad she did call me. I really like Emily, and the more time I can spend with any member of Leslie’s family, the better.” Kate ate a handful of fries, feeling totally indulgent in making lunch out of french fries and a large Coke.
“That’s the right attitude, Katie. You know, it really is good to have you back here. I wish it weren’t just temporary.”
“There’s little need for advertising work in a town like Rose Creek,” Kate said.
“Well, no, but there’s other things you could do,” Linny argued. “It would be good for you, don’t you think? Small-town living is good for the soul.”
“Hmm, I won’t deny that.” Kate smiled. She finished her food and stood to gather the trash, carrying it over to the kitchen before sitting back down with Linny.
“Linny? Do you believe in God?” She’d been toying with the question in her mind, but hearing the words out loud suddenly made her nervous. She chewed on her lip and waited for Linny to reply.
Linny raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Of course I do, child. Why would you ask that?”
Kate thought perhaps she should rephrase her question. She pulled her knees up under her and leaned her head onto her fist, propping her elbow against the back of the couch. She had been thinking a lot about Ian’s letters and what his relationship with God had meant to him.
“I guess what I mean is, what does your relationship with God mean to you?” She continued, not wanting Linny to answer before she explained more fully what she meant. “See, I remember going to church when I was growing up, a few times a year, because that was what people did, but it was never really a big part of our lives. I don’t remember ever praying or talking about God or anything. And now, with so much death and suffering and so many saying they will pray for the family, I don’t know, it’s just got me thinking. Is it—Do you . . . Is it a part of your life in that way?”
Linny leaned her head on the sofa cushions. Kate could tell it wasn’t something she had expected and wondered if it made Linny uncomfortable to talk about it. She didn’t seem bothered though, just surprised.
“Well, I probably haven’t relied on God as much as I should,” Linny began. “But then, I like to think He’s a part of my life anyway, helping me know right from wrong, giving me strength when times are tough. I may not get down on my knees and ask Him for help, but at the end of the day, I think He knows who I am, and I think He knows I know who He is too.” She seemed satisfied with her answer and looked to Kate to see if she was satisfied as well.
“So have you ever gone to church on a regular basis?”
“Well, to be honest, it wasn’t really the way I was raised, to be going to church all the time. Not that my parents were bad people. It just wasn’t what we did. And it was probably Grey’s indifference that stopped your aunt Mary from church goin’ herself. He and I were alike in that sense. But Mary, I remember a time when she went every Sunday, felt horrible if she missed a day. I think she went down to the Methodist church up on the hill, with the big stained-glass windows.”
“That’s where we went as children,” Kate said. “For Christmas and Easter.”
“Are you thinking about going to church?” Linny asked.
“Oh, no,” Kate said. “I was just curious, that’s all.” The thought of attending church hadn’t actually occurred to Kate until just then. But now she wondered if it was something she wanted to try.
“Well,” Linny concluded, “I don’t think it ever does harm to work on your relationship with God. At least I know that much is true.”
Kate and Emily stayed at Linny’s house for most of the afternoon. When the day finally leaned toward evening, Kate thought she should return to the farmhouse to see how the painting and repair work were going. Emily came along, her mother planning to pick her up there when she got off work. The painting, in fact, was almost complete. The house looked clean and crisp in the orange glow of late afternoon, and Kate climbed out of her car, standing in awe at the sight. Emily followed Kate’s gaze to the house.
“I think Grandma would be happy with how pretty it looks. I wish she could come back to see it,” Emily said thoughtfully.
“I wish she could too, Emily.” Kate reached down and squeezed Emily’s hand.
“Aunt Kate?” Emily asked.
“Yes?”
“Are you and my mommy going to be friends now?”
“I hope so, Emily,” she said gently. “I really hope so.” She wondered what this wide-eyed little girl thought of her and her conspicuous absence over the past few years. Kate crouched down in front of her and put both of her hands on Emily’s tiny shoulders.
“I was gone for
a long time, Emily, and I was wrong. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to visit more, if that’s okay with everyone.”
Emily tweaked her mouth over to one side and wrinkled her eyebrows, giving off an air of serious contemplation. Kate struggled not to smile and waited patiently for Emily’s approval.
“Are you going to live in Grandma’s house forever?”
“Well, I’m not really sure what I’m going to do,” Kate answered. “But I promise I will always take care of the house, no matter what.”
Emily let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good,” she said simply. “I really love this old house.”
Kate smiled and silently agreed with her niece. The house certainly seemed to have that effect on people.
Leslie didn’t stay long when she came to pick up Emily, but she was polite and gracious and openly grateful for Kate’s help. Kate assured her it was a sweet pleasure to spend the day with her niece and she was willing to help out anytime Leslie needed her, at least for the next two and a half weeks.
As Kate imagined spending more time with Leslie and her niece and nephews, it was hard to think of living somewhere far away—hard, really, to think of living anywhere but right there in the old farmhouse. Her job and life back at home in Atlanta, the life that had seemed so big and important a week ago, continued to feel vacant and shallow to Kate, empty of the things capable of truly filling her up. Her niece, for example, and Leslie’s boys. Kate knew so little about Nicholas and Tommy and suddenly yearned to know everything she could about each one of them.
And then there were the letters—Ian’s letters. Kate found herself thinking about her ancestor frequently throughout the day, thinking about his words, “Wherever you walk, walk with God.” Kate was comforted, she discovered, by the mere knowledge that God existed. It made her wonder what it would be like to actually seek God, learn more of Him, and perhaps even pray. When Kate had read Ian’s words for the first time, she had thought to pray but felt silly and ignorant as to how to start or what to say. She imagined herself the last person God would actually be concerned with. With all the good, worthy Christians in this world, why would God have need of her? Would He even hear her prayer? She wasn’t sure, and yet, she felt she needed Him. The question, then, was how to find Him.
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