Abide with Me

by Delia Parr

  “She’s right,” Jenny argued. “Listen to her.”

  “But if anyone finds out the truth, they’ll know I misled them.”

  “They won’t,” Jenny insisted.

  Madge took a deep breath. “But they could.”

  “Not if you could get the adoption approved and a new birth certificate issued quickly. Once that’s done, the original can be sealed, even with the proviso that the records can be unsealed at Sarah’s request when she’s an adult, which she probably won’t do because you and Russell are going to tell her the truth anyway. I assume Russell has her mother’s death certificate?”

  “I guess so.” Madge’s eyes lit with hope that quickly dimmed. “It’s a good idea, Andrea, but I told you. Going through with the adoption and getting the birth certificate changed will take a good year, maybe longer.”

  “But what if you could get it done in a few weeks? What then?”

  “Then I guess I’d feel much better than I do right now.”

  Andrea smiled. “Consider it done.”

  With her eyes wide, Madge leaned back, looked at Andrea, and sputtered. “C-consider it done? J-just like that?”

  “Just like that. I have a friend, Trish Montgomery, who practices family law. She’ll do it for me as a favor. I’ll call her tomorrow for you.”

  “But you can’t just call up your friend and expect her to drop everything to handle this for us. And what about the courts? They’re clogged with enough cases to last through this millennium and the next, or so they say.”

  Andrea’s smile turned into a grin. “Yes, I can. What did Sandra do every time she wanted something near…near the end when she was sick?”

  “She played the cancer card.”

  “Right. Now it just so happens you have another sister who can do the same thing. I’ll call Trish tomorrow and if I have to, I’ll play the cancer card. If it worked for Sandra, it’ll work for me.”

  “You…you said you’d never do that! You told Sandra you thought it was terrible to play on people’s sympathies like that!”

  Andrea swallowed hard. “I know I did, but well, sometimes we have to do things because there’s no other choice. I wouldn’t play the cancer card otherwise. There’s nothing I can do to make this all go away for you, so let me try to make it better. Please.”

  Madge did not bother to swipe away the next barrage of tears. “You’d do that? For Sarah and Russell and me? You said you didn’t want anyone else to know your cancer was back.”

  “You’re my sister,” Andrea whispered. “Of course I will.” Before they both got teary, she pinched Madge’s upper arm.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “Just a little victory pinch. I was right, wasn’t I?”

  Madge rubbed her arm. “Right about what?”

  “Cancer. It isn’t always so bad. Sometimes it’s just plain good. Or it can be. It all depends on what you do with it. It’s about time I made it work for good, don’t you think?”

  Madge sniffled. “I suppose.”

  “I suppose, too,” Jenny teased before they shared a group hug.

  Madge did not argue when Jenny and Andrea led her back outside where folks were still gathered, chatting together in groups on the church lawn. While searching for Russell and Sarah, Madge saw the leading members of the Shawl Ministry—Eleanor, Millie and Grace—talking with several women, no doubt recruiting new members. The sun felt warm on Madge’s face, but her heart was already filled with enough peace now to make the weeks ahead easier. When she saw Bill Sanderson start walking toward them, she whispered in Andrea’s ear. “There’s someone coming who has his eye on you. I think he’s a keeper, too.”

  Andrea scanned the crowd, saw Bill heading their way and nudged Madge with her elbow. “He’s just a friend.”

  Jenny peered around Madge and made a face at Andrea. “A friend? How many dates have you had with him so far?”

  “Two by your count, but it was really only one date,” Andrea retorted.

  Jenny’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Madge. “The man can’t be that much of a keeper if he’s let the past few weeks go by without asking Andrea for another date. Do you think he’s changed his mind about being interested in her, or is she just a little too cranky for his taste?”

  Madge replied as if Andrea weren’t even there. “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask him.”

  “Good idea!”

  Andrea groaned. “Have fun, ladies. I’ll see you Tuesday for breakfast,” she said, slipped free, and went to meet Bill before he got anywhere close to her sisters. Half the congregation might be watching, but together, Madge and Jenny were far more dangerous. “How are the renovations going?” she asked him as they met.

  He held up a key ring with a set of keys on it. “I was coming over to ask if you’d like to see them if you’re not busy. I wasn’t sure if you’d be going out with your sisters to celebrate or not.”

  “No, I’d love to see them.”

  “We can walk or take my car. Maybe have some lunch afterward? I know it’s Sunday, but I have a little business proposition for you.”

  She nodded. She had a hunch about the business proposition, but let it go until later. “A walk and lunch sound perfect.”

  Before they left, she waved goodbye to her sisters. At least Sarah waved goodbye back. Her sisters gave her smirks.

  Using the back streets, getting from the church to the old schoolhouse that he had purchased took about fifteen minutes. ET, the elevated train, passed by less frequently on Sundays, and Bill and Andrea walked beneath the tracks without a train rumbling by overhead. The parking lot, normally full by eight o’clock on weekdays, held only half a dozen cars.

  “The contractor tells me the renovations will be finished by Thanksgiving. From the progress he’s made so far, I’d say he’s about on target. I’ve got my offices earmarked. Now all I need are some tenants.” Bill nodded toward the tracks. “Having easy access to Philadelphia should help.”

  “For prospective tenants, but also for clients and employees,” she suggested.

  They turned, walked up one block and approached the old schoolhouse from the rear. He pointed to the schoolyard. “We’ll resurface the blacktop after the construction work is done.”

  She noticed the rusted chain-link fence had been removed. “You’ll have parking for what? Thirty or forty cars?”

  “Thirty-five, plus allowances for handicapped parking,” he replied as they crossed the pitted blacktop and followed a concrete path to the front of the brick building.

  When they paused to take in a full view of the renovated school, she liked what she saw very much. The brickwork on the three-story building had been repointed. The oversize, rotting windows had been replaced with custom-made thermal windows. The old marble steps that led to a double set of doors had been repaired and polished. Even the concrete inset with the name of the school had been sand-blasted to look brand-new, and the new name of the building had been engraved directly below the name of the school.

  She read the inset:

  Walt Whitman School

  Where the Future Begins

  Whitman Commons

  Where Dreams Shape the Future

  All she could say was “Wow.”

  “I’m glad you approve. Does being here bring back memories?”

  She shook her head. “My sisters and I went to Welles School, on the other side of town. As the community grew, they built this one later. Now they’re both obsolete. I wish they’d been able to save my school instead of tearing it down. Can we go inside now? I’d love to see what you’ve done.”

  “I haven’t done anything. I’m just the dreamer. The contractor and subcontractors do all the work.” He got them inside to the inner foyer where the smell of new wood and paint drying on drywall hung heavy in the air. Tools, sawdust and drywall dust littered the floor. “Follow me, and watch your step. They weren’t expecting tourists,” he teased.

  From the inner foyer, he led her from the fi
rst floor to the second and third. He showed her where he would have his office on the third floor. The windows faced west, providing a skyline view of Philadelphia that would be even more magnificent at night. “What do you think so far?” he asked.

  “I like what you’ve done here, but I like the fact that we’ve gotten to keep this building even more. I wouldn’t worry. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting tenants,” she assured him.

  He shook his head. “I’m a little busy at the moment trying to recruit clients for myself. You wouldn’t happen to know a good broker, someone who might be interested in being the exclusive rental agent for Whitman Commons, would you?”

  She laughed. Her hunch had been correct. “I had a feeling you’d be mentioning something like that.”

  “Well? Will you do it?”

  “Sure. I’ll have to do a little research first, maybe make a comparative study between rents here and in Philadelphia, as well as complexes nearby before I can suggest a fee schedule. I’ll also need a list of all the suites, square footage, that sort of thing.”

  He grinned and patted his jacket pocket. “I’ve got that done. I thought we could look at the figures over lunch. We can stay in town or take a drive. I found a great little restaurant about an hour north of here we could try.”

  She furrowed her brow. “That depends. What are you driving?”

  “Not the Jeep. Definitely not the Jeep. I’ve got my own car. My very reliable, well-running car.”

  “Then let’s head north to this restaurant you’ve discovered,” she suggested. Not because she did not want anyone in town to see them together again. Just because she liked the idea of spending the afternoon alone with this very nice…friend.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  True and lasting friendships were like blessings, Andrea thought. Old or new, they never disappointed. They never judged. They just existed, waiting to be affirmed and reaffirmed, over and over again, and became more precious as time passed. To Andrea, some friends like Trish Montgomery, even become sisters-by-affection, as close as real sisters and just as special.

  On Monday morning, Andrea said goodbye to Trish and hung up the telephone. Trish had switched into lawyer mode the minute Andrea had explained Madge’s situation. She had promised to call Madge that afternoon after reviewing a few cases she had handled in the past that were, both fortunately and unfortunately, remarkably similar. Trish could not promise to have Sarah’s adoption completed within a matter of weeks, but she did suggest it was not impossible.

  Andrea bowed her head, turned the timing over to God and made a quick call to alert Madge that Trish would be calling her later that day.

  On Tuesday, Jenny arrived first for another Sisters’ Breakfast, this one marking Kathleen’s birthday. But this time, Jenny did not have to drag herself to The Diner after working a full shift in the hospital emergency room and plop herself, half-asleep, into the corner booth. She did not have to feel guilty for not getting home in time to have breakfast with Katy and Hannah, either. She had fixed breakfast for Michael and the girls before she left home. Katy and Hannah had not eaten very much. They were too excited about their cousin, Sarah, coming over to play.

  Instead of waiting for Madge, who now had a perfect excuse for being late, Jenny had left to be sure she would arrive first to get the full effect when her sisters saw her new look. Fully rested, though considerably rounder than when she had been here in July for Sandra’s birthday, Jenny caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window and smiled.

  No more ponytail. Staying home gave her more time with the girls. She had more time to spend on herself, too, like twenty minutes with a blow-dryer. The shoulder-length cut she had gotten yesterday at the hair salon was easy to manage and a lot more flattering. She had even painted her fingernails for the occasion, and her toes, too. She did not need makeup. Joy and contentment gave her all the glow she wanted or needed.

  The Diner was usually busy today, but Caroline had still saved the booth for them. In between waiting tables and ringing up tabs at the cash register, she brought Jenny a cup of decaf and put an empty plate in the center of the table. “That’s for the treats from the bakery that Madge will bring. What were Kathleen’s favorites?”

  Jenny laughed. “She had two, sort of. Knowing Madge, she’ll get too much of both. We’ll probably need another plate, but you can wait to bring it over. I’m not sure whether or not Madge will remember both.”

  Caroline looked at the waitress three tables up from them and shook her head. “Madge can remember something from twenty years ago, but these young girls I have to hire can’t get the orders straight thirty seconds after they take them. I’ll bring the plate.”

  When Andrea arrived a few minutes later, Jenny wished she had brought a camera to record the look on her sister’s face. Eyes wide, Andrea slid into the booth across from Jenny. “You look wonderful! You cut your hair!”

  Jenny held out her hands and wriggled her fingers. “I painted my fingernails, too.”

  “And your toes, I imagine.”

  Jenny laughed. “And Katy’s and Hannah’s. Michael drew the line, though. Speaking of looking good, you’re not doing so bad yourself, for an old lady, that is. Tell me! Tell me! How was your date with Bill on Sunday?”

  “It wasn’t a date. We had a perfectly ordinary business meeting over lunch. He’s asked me to handle renting the other offices in the building.” She paused when Caroline delivered her usual glass of iced tea and left another empty plate on the table. “Naturally, I said yes.”

  “Naturally,” Jenny quipped. “And just where did you have this business meeting?”

  Andrea shrugged and added some artificial sweetener to her iced tea. “Just a restaurant. I’m sure you haven’t heard of it. It’s in a little town called Bayville, and the restaurant is right on Barnegat Bay. They have a place for boaters to pull in and dock during the summer, but it’s getting too cold now. We saw some sailboats out on the bay, though. The water looks so dark now, when the sails caught the sunshine, they were a brilliant white that I’ve never seen before.”

  Jenny took a sip of coffee. “Yep. That sure sounds like a dull, ordinary business meeting to me.”

  “Don’t start,” Andrea warned.

  Before Jenny could press for more details, Madge arrived in a whirlwind of apologies for being late, two bakery boxes and gushing compliments about Jenny’s new look. “Sorry I’m late. Sarah slept a little later than usual today, and Russell had to leave earlier than usual to meet some deliveries for the store. Before I forget,” she added as she slid in beside Andrea, “Michael said to tell you not to rush. He’s going to take all three girls on a nature walk to collect leaves. Maybe after breakfast we can all go shopping and get the girls each a little scrapbook, the kind with the plastic pages?”

  “Shop away, ladies. Some people have to work for a living,” Andrea teased.

  “We’ll still have to press the leaves between waxed paper,” Jenny cautioned as she slipped the string off one of the bakery boxes. She looked inside, saw half a dozen jelly doughnuts, and put three onto a plate. “Do you remember how to do that?”

  Madge opened the second box, put two extralarge corn muffins on the second plate, and winked. “I don’t forget anything, little sister.”

  Caroline appeared with a cup of decaf for Madge and to take their orders. She saw the two plates filled with doughnuts and muffins and grinned at Madge. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. What’s your pleasure today, ladies?”

  Once she took their orders and left, Jenny followed tradition and did the honors. She cut the jelly doughnuts in half, just the way Kathleen had taught her. She sliced straight through the entire jelly center so each side was the full length of the doughnut. Next, she sliced the corn muffins, top to bottom, into six thin slivers. She used a spoon to scoop a bit of jelly from the doughnut and spread it on each slice of muffin.

  They each took a piece and held it up as a toast.

  With memories untouched by t
he passing of time, Jenny was able to speak from her heart through the tears that blurred her vision. “We remember you, Kathleen. Your sweet smile. Your sweet disposition, and the sweet sound of your laughter. Happy birthday, honeybun,” she murmured. Her voice caught when she used the nickname she had given her sister. Kathleen had always laughed and said in return, “If I’m your honeybun, then you’re my sugar cookie.”

  Jenny had not been able to eat sugar cookies for a long time after Kathleen’s passing eight years ago.

  “No tears today. That’s the rule,” Andrea teased. “Sisters’ Breakfasts are supposed to be happy, remember?”

  Jenny brushed away a tear. “I’m pregnant. I get weepy. I can’t help it.”

  “I know,” Andrea replied. “You were closer in age to Kathleen than we were, so why don’t you start today with a story. A funny one,” she suggested before nibbling at her jelly muffin.

  “And not the bunny story. You told that last year,” Madge cautioned between bites.

  Jenny took a couple of deep breaths, glimpsed her pink fingernails and smiled. “A funny story? Okay. How about the time Kathleen decided to play a joke and painted everyone’s toenails while they were asleep? That was pretty funny.”

  Madge choked on her muffin. “That was not funny! She painted every one of our toenails a different color!”

  Andrea nodded. “And those were the days when it took a lot of elbow grease to get that polish off.”

  Jenny frowned. “She painted Daddy’s toes, too, and he thought it was funny.”

  “Daddy never got mad at anything,” Andrea countered.

  Madge shrugged. “We were sisters. We always got mad at something one of us did, but we got over it.”

  “Or we got a lecture from Mother,” Jenny said.

  Madge volunteered to go next, but she had to wait to tell her story until Caroline had delivered their breakfasts. “Once upon a time, you were just a baby, Jenny, so you don’t remember this, but Andrea should. While the ‘big three’ were in school, Kathleen was home with Mother and you. Kathleen was helping Mother with the laundry. Mother had just gotten her first dryer, remember?”