Chas continued to pray, and even fasted, knowing this was no small matter. She’d learned not to expect answers to be big and overwhelming. She’d learned to recognize feelings of peace versus the lack of it. And she listened carefully for those feelings. She was entirely unprepared for the sudden and overwhelming feeling that she had to get a priesthood blessing. She phoned one of her home teachers, and they both came over that evening. They went into the private dining room where they visited for a few minutes, then one of them offered a prayer. She didn’t tell them anything specific to the problem; only that she needed some guidance and had felt prompted to ask for the blessing.
Chas had been given many blessings during her years as a member of the Church, for a number of reasons. But this one left her barely able to breathe as she was told that her Heavenly Father loved her and was pleased with her example and charity to those who came into her home. She was told that she should always remain humble and be gracious in accepting the help of others in times of need, and that her reliance on others could bless the lives of those willing to give, even more than her own. She couldn’t hold back tears as she heard that she needed to trust in the Lord as He carefully molded precious lives to achieve their greatest potential. She was also told that His ways might not make sense to mortals, but by living close to the Spirit and keeping the commandments, she would be an instrument in His hands to bring souls to Christ through her charitable nature and humility. Her tears increased as she was reminded that the Lord was mindful of the grief she’d suffered from the losses in her life, but she was assured that her loved ones on the other side of the veil were progressing in the gospel and watching out for her. There was no vagueness about being informed that difficulties lay ahead in her life, but that through her righteousness she would be sustained and comforted.
That night Chas lay awake long after she’d crawled into bed, pondering the wonder of such personal communication from God, and what it meant to her at this time. She knew that she shouldn’t try to speculate over what difficulties might lie ahead, or who she might help bring to Christ. But there was no doubting in her heart or mind that angels existed in her life, and that she knew the course she needed to take, a course on which she was already firmly embarked. And she had found peace—perfect, undeniable peace.
When sleep continued to elude her, Chas got up and wrote a long, handwritten letter to Jackson to share her feelings regarding this evening’s experience, keeping in mind his minimal knowledge of gospel principles. She was purposely vague on some things, but made it clear that she believed he had been inspired to help her; she also told him that money had been tighter than she had been willing to admit. She thanked him for being a great blessing in her life, and apologized for anything unkind she might have said, and also for her pride over the money. She closed the letter by telling him how much she loved him, and how grateful she was to have him in her life. She didn’t wonder any more then than she ever had if she should be reticent about her feelings. She and Jackson weren’t the kind of people to play games, and he needed to know that she hoped and prayed every day that this story would have a happy ending for them, and that they could be together forever. She felt sure he wouldn’t catch the same implication of forever that she’d intended, but maybe someday he would understand.
The next time they talked, Chas told him she’d sent a letter, and asked him to please let her know when he got it. Then they talked about other things. He called her a couple of days later to tell her that he’d just read the letter. He thanked her, said it was remarkable, and then he asked her a couple of questions. They talked of other things, and the money issue didn’t come up again. Chas felt grateful as the financial freedom began to settle in over the coming weeks. She was able to take care of some repairs that were overdue, and to start putting some money away for future needs.
All in all, she felt that she was adjusting fairly well to Granny’s absence and her long-distance relationship with Jackson. She missed them both, but she was coping. Polly and Charlotte helped fill in the gaps, and as always, she loved running the inn. It was a good life. She just hoped and prayed that Jackson might not settle too comfortably back into his life elsewhere, and that one day he might choose to share this life with her.
Chas reached a day when she not only felt ready to go through all of Granny’s things, she felt eager. Prior to that, she had kept the room exactly as it had been, often going there for solace. But suddenly the room felt as if it had become some kind of unhealthy shrine that needed purging. Perhaps Granny was nudging her along from the other side. During a few days at the beginning of a week when no guests were scheduled at the inn, Chas started emptying the drawers and the closet. She stripped the sheets from the bed where her grandmother had died, and with Polly’s help she rearranged the furniture. Most of Granny’s things were given to charity, while Chas just turned a blind eye to her lingering sentimentality and reminded herself that, after all, they were just things. She carefully put any belongings of Granny’s that had true sentimental value away in the cedar chest where Granny had kept things that were precious to her.
With that much accomplished, Chas started cleaning out her own room and moved her things into Granny’s old room, taking it over completely. With Chas’s old room cleaned out and cleaned up, Polly moved her things there, and the room she’d been staying in was once again made ready for guests. Chas was grateful for Polly’s friendship as well as her companionship, and wondered what she would ever do without her. They joked about running the inn together as a couple of old spinsters. Chas laughed over the idea while inside it broke her heart. She far preferred to imagine herself growing old in this house with Jackson by her side, raising a family. But whatever happened, Polly would always have a place with her.
Throughout the course of the project, Chas spoke with Jackson on the phone several times. He helped talk her through the process, and they shared many tender memories. She felt so grateful that he had known Granny, as opposed to just being told about her. In fact, she marveled at how well he had known her. He knew all of her little idiosyncrasies and eccentricities, and he had been a recipient of her generous heart. Their bond was deepened by the mutual love they shared for this great woman who would remain alive through their mutual memories.
With her project completed, Chas felt more comfortable in the house than she had since Granny’s death. When many weekend guests arrived, she became caught up in her work and felt grateful for all she’d been blessed with. She was thrilled to get a funny card in the mail from Jackson, and not many days later, she got a sentimental one. In turn she started looking for cards to send him, and it quickly became a little game back and forth. She looked forward to receiving his cards as much as she enjoyed sending them to him. And occasionally she sent a little care package with something silly in it, and always some of Charlotte’s baked goods.
Jackson laughed out loud to see a card from Chas appear in his stack of mail. The regular appearance of cards and packages was one of the highlights in his life, second only to their daily phone calls. He immediately broke the seal on the envelope as he moved to a chair to sit and read. On the front of the card was a photograph of the inn that had been artistically altered to give it an ethereal effect. And printed with it were the words, It was the best of times, it was the worst of times . . .
“Wow,” he said aloud and opened the card. He could never beat that. Inside there was nothing printed, but Chas’s handwriting filled the entire thing, and he eagerly began to read. My dearest love, I came across this card in a drawer and thought of you. It was one of those things I’d had made at one time as a marketing tool, but now it seemed perfect to send, if only to remind you of your other home, and hopefully to manipulate you into missing me and the inn as much as we miss you. While I was thinking about the words printed on this card, and the meaning they must have surely had for our friend Mr. Dickens, I thought of the time you spent here. For both of us it was surely the best of times and the worst of times. I
am astounded to think of the life-altering challenges we both faced during that time, and the grief we had to deal with, each in our own way, but at the same time, there are so many wonderful moments and so much joy mingled into those memories. You changed my life and opened my heart. You gave me strength when I needed it, and you blessed my life by allowing me to help you through some of the worst of times for you. Whatever the future may bring for us, we must always remember that we have shared the best and the worst of times, but as time passes and life moves on, I hope that we can remember more fully the best of times, the times that are close to my heart as I know they are close to yours. May God be with you, and bless and protect you every hour of every day, and may we yet share more and more of the best of times. All my love and then some, Chas.
Jackson had to blink back tears as he read, then he read it all the way through a second time. He sat for a long time with the card in his hand, pondering the state of his life. Every day he felt torn between letting go of this life to take hold of a new one, and seeing to what felt like unfinished business in Virginia. He had trouble defining what exactly felt unfinished. The only thing that really bugged him was the elusiveness of the drug dealers responsible for Dave’s death, and for other deaths as well. But they were at dead ends in every direction, and there was nothing to be done that other agents couldn’t do. Still, he felt hesitant to leave, and he didn’t know why. He concluded that he just needed more time.
Chas was thrilled when Jackson called to thank her for the card, saying that it was the best card he’d ever received in his life. He told her that he’d set it on the nightstand next to a framed picture of the two of them in front of the Christmas tree. Then they talked until it was time to go to sleep. With the difference in time zones, it was a good thing that Jackson was accustomed to going to bed later than Chas.
Every once in a while Jackson suggested that she fly to Norfolk for a weekend. He even offered to pay all of her expenses, but she assured him she could afford it. He told her there was a fairly nice hotel not far from his apartment, and he would take very good care of her. After it had come up a number of times and she’d managed to mostly avoid the subject, he finally asked, “What is it, Chas? Tell me why you won’t come.”
“I was wondering when you’d see through me.”
“It’s not easy to see through you when I can’t even see you. Tell me why. If there’s a reason that makes sense, then tell me, and I’ll drop it. Do you not want to see me or—”
“Oh, it’s not that! I do want to see you.”
“Are you worried about leaving the inn?”
“Yes and no. It feels strange to think of leaving it, but I know Polly and Jen could manage. And of course Charlotte would help.”
“Then what?”
“It scares me a little. Does that shock you?”
“No. I’ve wondered.”
“I’ve never been to a city that big.”
“It’s not that big, compared to some.”
“Bigger than I’ve ever been to.”
“It would be good for you to leave your little world for a few days. I will pick you up at the airport, and will take very good care of you.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
“Then come. I miss you. And I can’t get away long enough to make my coming there worth it right now. I think it’s your turn to come to my house.”
“Is this a role reversal test?”
“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Do I need to call Polly and Charlotte? Do your friends even know this has come up?”
“No. If they did, they’d kick me out of my own house.”
“So, just gather all your courage and do it. This weekend would be good. I can get an extra day off.”
“This weekend?” she asked, wishing she hadn’t sounded so astonished.
“The weather is beautiful, Chas. It’s spring. Come and see me.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
After she hung up the phone, Chas wondered what she had agreed to. Then she thought of seeing Jackson and nearly squealed out loud. She got busy making arrangements, and the enthusiasm of her friends helped make it easier. She talked to Jackson several times through the course of making certain that everything was in order, and before she knew it she was in the air on her way to Virginia. She felt butterflies at the thought of seeing the man she loved, which helped compensate a little for her mild nervousness over the experience of traveling so far.
Chas did as Jackson had instructed and called him from her cell phone the moment the plane landed. Without even saying hello, he said, “You are going to hate me.”
“What?” she asked, immediately panicked.
“Now, there’s no need for alarm. I just . . . got hung up here. It was important and I couldn’t get away.”
“Okay,” Chas said, trying to be reasonable. “I’m sure I can survive here at the airport until you get here. Lots of people do it.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve sent two of my best men to pick you up.”
“Your best men?” She laughed. “It sounds like witness protection, or something.”
She’d meant it to be funny but Jackson was completely serious as he said, “Yeah.”
“You mean . . . they really do that kind of stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “How do I find these great secret agents?”
“They’ll find you.”
“How?”
“They’re FBI, Chas. Since you’re not actually being pursued by the mob, or something, I don’t think I need to give you any code words or signs. I’m sorry about this, but I’ll see you soon. I love you. I’ve got to go.”
Chas sighed again and put her phone in her purse. She was finally able to get into the plane aisle and get her bag from the overhead compartment, grateful for a kind gentleman who helped her. Once in the airport, she worked her way toward baggage claim according to the signs, even though she didn’t need to claim any baggage. She didn’t have time to even stop and look around or wonder where her escorts were before she found a man on each side of her; both were wearing dark suits and sunglasses.
“Chas Henrie?” one of them said.
“Yes?”
He then opened his wallet to show her his ID, saying, “I’m Agent Ekert, FBI. And this is Agent Veese. We’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Thank you,” she said, a little surprised by their seriousness. She recognized the names the same moment she recognized vague scars on both their faces. These were the men who had almost lost their lives in an explosion. But she thought it best to pretend she didn’t know about that, aware that it was still a sensitive issue.
“Do you have luggage?” Agent Veese asked.
“This is it,” she said. “I’m ready.”
The two men flanked her as they left the airport, and they guided her into the backseat of a black sedan that had been parked in a No Parking zone. Agent Veese was driving, and once they were beyond the airport, she noticed that he drove very quickly, but she tried to focus her attention elsewhere and not indulge in feeling nervous. The silence between the agents ended when Ekert said to his partner, “You’d better take it easy there, buddy, or Leeds’ll have your head.”
“He told me to hurry.”
“He’d appreciate getting the car and the passengers all there in one piece.”
“Amen,” Chas said quietly.
“I apologize for my partner’s reckless driving,” Ekert said over his shoulder. “He is very good at it, however. The boss always lets him drive when we need to get somewhere in a hurry.”
“Don’t speed on my account,” she said. “Take as long as you need.”
“There’s no need to be nervous, ma’am,” Veese said.
“About your driving?” she asked.
“That too. But I meant whatever you’ve been brought in for.”
Brought in for? “What exactly did Agent Leeds tell you?” she asked.
“N
ormally, that would be classified information, but it’s not, because he didn’t tell us anything. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m sure there isn’t,” Chas said, smiling to herself. Clearly these men had no idea that she had a personal connection to the man who had sent them to get her.
“Except for Veese’s driving.”
“Hey,” Veese chuckled, “he said to hurry, and I always do what the big man tells me.”
The big man? Chas had suspected that Jackson was being humble about his position. Now she had proof.
Attempting to distract herself from Veese’s driving, she focused on the scenery passing by. Everything just looked way too big and busy and overwhelming. She was glad to be in the care of competent professionals who knew their way around the city. She lost track of the time it took to get to their destination, but when they were getting out of the car she had a repeat episode of the butterflies that had consumed her when the plane had been landing. He was so close!
Again the agents flanked her as they entered the building and went up the elevator, Veese carrying her suitcase. They stepped off into a busy area with many desks and a lot of noise. A woman looked up from her work for only a second and said, “Leeds wants her in his office.”
“Why?” Ekert asked.
“I don’t know. Because he said so. Since when do we need any more reason than that?”
“His office, really?” Ekert asked.
“He made it very clear,” the woman said with mild impatience. She glanced at the clock. “He said he’d be out of that meeting by four, so he should be there soon.”
The Best of Times: A Dicken's Inn Novel Page 25