Hearts at Home

by Lori Copeland

  Surely someone would notice.

  When she came down the stairs that led into the church fellowship hall, Cleta glanced up and smiled. “There she is. We were beginning to worry about you, Edith.”

  “Worry?” Edith laid her purse on the table, smoothing her sweater over her slimmer frame. “Why would you worry?”

  “Well, you and your diet. We don’t want you getting sick so close to the wedding.”

  Edith stifled a groan. She had wanted the women to notice that she looked good, not that she’d been on a diet. Now everyone would know, and everyone would want to talk about food.

  Sinking into a chair before a mound of lilac tulle, she sent a smile around the circle, then covered her mouth and burped lightly, tasting wieners. “Birdie, how is Salt doing today?”

  “He’s raring to go.” Color flooded the bride-to-be’s cheeks. “I mean, he’s feeling fine. Better than ever.”

  “Good.” Edith picked up a square of tulle, then looked at the mountain of rice on the table. The women were dropping tablespoonfuls of rice into the square, gathering the edges, and tying the packets with white ribbon. Simple.

  Dana Klackenbush leaned forward to grin at Edith. “What diet are you doing? Low fat? High carbs? Sugar Busters, Pound Pinchers, Dr. Atkins, Pritkin, the Zone, or the Blood Type?”

  Edith sighed, resigning herself to the conversation. “I’ve done a little of this, a little of that. I’m pretty close to reaching my goal.”

  Babette gave Edith a rueful smile. “I’d love to take off a few pounds, but I don’t think it’s going to be possible for a while.”

  Edith lifted a brow, waiting. This was the perfect time to announce Babette’s good news … but the younger woman only lowered her gaze and dropped another spoonful of rice into lilac netting.

  “Well,” Cleta said, unable to resist adding her two cents. “I know thin is in, but I think too many women are obsessed with weight. It’s as if they’re telling God he created a faulty product and it’s up to us to correct it.”

  “But too much weight can be dangerous to one’s health,” Bea inserted.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone dying of thirty extra pounds,” Birdie said.

  Bea tossed a finished rice bag at her sister. “But there’s the blood pressure factor associated with weight.”

  Cleta thumped the table with her scissors. “I know people skinny as fence posts with high blood pressure.”

  “What about cholesterol?” Dana said. “Cholesterol is a big problem these days with all the red meat and junk food we eat. Even small children are showing signs of high cholesterol.”

  Vernie dropped a handful of ribbon pieces into the center of the table. “Do you know what the average cholesterol level was just a few years back?”

  “Two hundred?” Edith guessed.

  “Two fifty,” Vernie answered. “Then some expert decided two hundred was ideal. Today, doctors want it below one-sixty. Most folks can’t get their cholesterol below one-sixty without cholesterol-lowering medicine, and I hear that eats up your liver. Beef and eggs have become forbidden foods in our society. And butter?” She heaved a sigh. “A sure death sentence.”

  “But you can’t dispute facts,” Babette argued. “They say type two diabetes is reaching epidemic proportions among young kids because of the French fries, bread, and junk food they eat. I don’t let Georgie have sugar. He eats sugar-free desserts except for the occasional cookie he wheedles out of Birdie or Abner.”

  “You give that boy desserts made with aspartame?” Birdie shook her head. “I’m leery of artificial sweeteners. They can cause all kinds of side effects.”

  “But refined sugar is bad for you.”

  “Artificial sweeteners are killing us.” Vernie let another load of ribbons fall onto the table, causing Edith to wonder just how many rice bags they were supposed to make. She sighed. “I understand white bread, potatoes, and rice are harmful to your system. They raise the glycemic level or something. The experts say you should eat only whole wheat, nonprocessed food, sweet potatoes, and brown rice.”

  “I can’t eat like that,” Birdie said flatly. “I’d be in the kitchen all day, and my bread loaves would weigh twenty pounds.”

  Comments erupted from all around the table:

  “God made sugar, didn’t he? How could he be wrong?”

  “It wasn’t refined when he made it.”

  “What about caffeine? It’ll shorten your life, too.”

  “That’s an old wives’ tale!”

  “I’m an old wife!”

  “Well, I’m not giving up my coffee. Eventually they say everything is bad for you. I don’t know who to trust anymore, so I’m going to eat what I like.”

  “They say diet soda will rot your bones and hasten osteoporosis.”

  Cleta grinned. “Then you’re a goner, Vernie, with all those diet vanilla cokes you drink.”

  Vernie snorted. “The world needs more vanilla cokes— most folks could use a little sweetening.”

  Cleta laughed. “What about all the hormones in our milk and poultry? No wonder I’ve got all these ugly coarse black hairs sprouting on my chin. They’ll be coming out of my back before long.”

  “I believe that’s caused by lack of hormones, Cleta.”

  “Whatever. I still have to pluck every day.”

  Edith glanced up. “If we can’t eat refined sugar, meat, or soda … if we can’t drink the water because of the fluoride and chlorine, eat fruits and vegetables because of insecticide, or eat fish because of the mercury, what are we supposed to eat?”

  The women babbled in confusion until Birdie nodded decisively. “We eat all things in moderation.” She looked around the table as if daring someone to contradict her. “The good Lord made each of us different, and that includes bodies and metabolisms. We enjoy the things he has given us, the things available to us, and we don’t worry about things we can’t help.”

  She tossed a beribboned rice bag into the basket at the end of the table, then stood to drive her point home. “Animals, vegetables, fish, fruits, and grains were given to us for nourishment. It’s only when we abuse our abundance that problems arise. And I speak for myself, ladies.” She patted her stomach. “With all the good food I’ve been eating, if next Thursday doesn’t hurry and get here I’m not going to be able to squeeze into my wedding dress.”

  Edith sighed in relief when the topic shifted to the upcoming wedding.

  Dana clapped her hands. “Did your dress arrive?”

  “Yesterday,” Birdie said, beaming. “Floyd brought three bags of mail over, and my dress was sitting in a big box right on top!”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it!”

  Babette waved to break into the conversation. “By the way, how many of these rice bags are we making?”

  “Well,” Birdie stopped to count on her fingers. “Fifty ought to do it.”

  “Fifty?” Vernie dropped her jaw, then pointed to the mountain of tulle on the table. “Birdie, you’ve got enough stuff here to make three hundred.”

  Birdie’s eyes twinkled above an impish smile. “Well … you never know. We might be having another celebration before long.”

  She winked at Vernie, who promptly threw up her hands.

  “Oh, no. I married Stanley once already; that was enough.”

  “Come on, Vernie. If any couple ever deserved a wedding renewal ceremony, you and Stanley do.”

  “Nope.” But Vernie smiled as she picked up another piece of netting and spread it on the table.

  Babette fluttered her fingers. “Maybe we could use them for Annie and A.J.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath for that one.” Vernie brought her scissors down on another hank of ribbon with a decisive snip. “I asked Caleb how A.J. and Annie were doing, and he said they weren’t.”

  Birdie squinted. “Weren’t what?”

  “Weren’t doing, weren’t getting along! Apparently things have cooled between those two.�
�

  “I wouldn’t blame Annie for giving that particular young man the heave-ho.” Cleta sat straighter in her chair. “After the funeral, I offered him a room at the B&B—for free, mind you—and he said that although the place was nice and rustic, he had to be getting back to New York.” Her nostrils flared as she snatched a square of netting from the table. “Rustic! Our place is anything but!We have all the modern amenities but cable, which, I understand, is nothing but a pipeline for pornography these days—”

  “Still,” Dana interrupted, her voice dreamy, “I was hoping Annie and A.J. would get together. They were such an attractive couple.”

  Vernie snorted. “What’s looks got to do with anything?”

  “Indeed.” Edith nodded her agreement. “Besides, if Annie married A.J., she’d have to move to New York. Now, tell the truth—can you see that girl living in New York?”

  Dana bit her lip as Edith tightened the knot on another rice bag.

  Young people. At times you had to wonder if they could discern glitter from gold.

  Chapter Seventeen

  At the weekly Sunday evening angel meeting in the church basement, Abner pulled out a white pastry box and opened it with a grand gesture.

  “Astounding!” Sniffing the rich aromas drifting from the box, Zuriel rose out of his chair. “What is it?”

  “It is a calzone,” Abner explained, slipping his hands into plastic gloves. “A hand-held pastry pie filled with pepperoni and cheeses. Birdie is thinking about selling these during tourist season.”

  “They smell heavenly.” Gavriel winked at Caleb, who smiled in response. In honor of this special occasion, the angel captain had taken the seat next to Caleb, and Abner had baked a special treat—what more could a ministering angel ask of his farewell party?

  “Everyone, please enjoy them.” Abner began passing out the calzones. “Take one and wrap it in a napkin, no forks needed. Enjoy them while they’re hot.”

  Mingled murmurs of appreciation filled the fellowship hall as the angels filled the bellies of their mortal bodies. As Caleb ate, he studied his fellow ministers and realized how much he would miss these fine servants of the Most High God. Gavriel had been a just and honorable captain, Zuriel had never failed to offer a wise word, and Abner had been a delicious delight. Yakov, with his firsthand knowledge of European history and God’s chosen people, had taught him many things, and Elezar’s patient nature had blessed not only Vernie Bidderman but Caleb as well. And while all angels had strong voices with which to praise the Creator, Micah had been given a special musical gift. His melodies could lift the souls of men and angels to the heavenlies with one refrain.

  While they ate, each angel gave a brief report about the mortals in the household he guarded.

  “Charles, Babette, and Georgie are doing well,” Zuriel announced. “Babette has learned that she carries new life, but I doubt she has any idea how many new souls reside in her womb!”

  Caleb grinned. “I have relayed the news to the doctor,” he said. “I don’t think he believed me, but he will keep an eye on Babette. He is curious, at least.”

  Micah paused to wipe his mouth with a napkin. “All is well at the bed-and-breakfast,” he reported. “Barbara and Russell have continued to look for an apartment in Ogunquit, and Cleta is learning how to let go. By the time the Lord sends them a child, all three will have matured in wisdom and grace.”

  “That is good,” Gavriel said. “Salt Gribbon has matured as well, and his health is much improved.” He shook his head. “One would think that a man of seventy years would be wise in all things, but humans often have blind spots. Salt overexerted himself the other day, but he is learning to rest in the Lord and accept each day as a precious treasure.”

  “Bea and Birdie are growing, too,” Abner said. “Bea is a little sad at the thought of Birdie’s moving to the lighthouse, but I’m sure the sisters will remain close. Bea experienced the intimacy of human marriage early in her life; Birdie will discover it in her later years. Both sisters now understand that marital love is a precious picture of the passion the Father feels for them.”

  “Love is stirring in Dr. Marc’s heart, too.” Caleb smiled when several angels looked at him with surprise on their faces. “He loves our Annie, though he is not confident about expressing his feelings. I have not spoken to Annie to know if this feeling is reciprocated.”

  Gavriel shook his head. “I have not heard from the Father regarding this matter, either. But the Lord will guide you, Caleb, as you guide those to whom you minister.”

  Yakov wiped his hands on a napkin. “Mike and Dana have begun to think about expanding their family, but I’m most thrilled about the changes in Buddy Franklin. He is hungry for the Word and seeking the Father’s will in many areas. He has been a delight to serve.”

  “Edith Wickam is hungry, too, but lately her thoughts have been too much on physical food.” A shadow moved in Gavriel’s bright eyes. “Many around her have offered wisdom, but she is also surrounded by the foolish voices of men who would bind her with foolish rules and false idols. Edith has yet to learn how to trust the Father in the area of her physical appetite.”

  Abner patted his round tummy. “These mortal bodies are easy to overload. Especially in winter, when we do not exercise as much.”

  “Still,” Yakov countered, “the human body is easy to operate. It growls when it needs food. It stops growling when it does not. What could be simpler?”

  “Humans have a gift,” Gavriel said, standing, “for making the simple complicated. But the Father is faithful, and he will give them light when they are ready to receive it.”

  Their meal completed, the other angels stood as well, their chairs scraping the painted concrete floor as they lifted their hands and hearts toward heaven.

  Micah began the song. One by one, the other angels joined in:

  I will sing of the tender mercies of the Lord forever!

  Young and old will hear of your faithfulness.

  Your unfailing love will last forever.

  Your faithfulness is as enduring as the heavens.

  All heaven will praise your miracles, Lord;

  Myriads of angels will praise you for your faithfulness.

  For who in all of heaven can compare with the Lord?

  What mightiest angel is anything like the Lord?

  The highest angelic powers stand in awe of God.

  He is far more awesome than those who surround his throne.

  O Lord God Almighty!

  Where is there anyone as mighty as you, Lord?

  Faithfulness is your very character.

  You are the one who rules the oceans.

  When their waves rise in fearful storms, you subdue them.

  You are the one who crushed the great sea monster.

  You scattered your enemies with your mighty arm.

  The heavens are yours, and the earth is yours; Everything in the world is yours—you created it all.

  Your throne is founded on two strong pillars— righteousness and justice.

  Unfailing love and truth walk before you as attendants.

  Happy are those who hear the joyful call to worship,

  For they will walk in the light of your presence.

  Caleb felt a lump rise in his throat as he whispered the final words. His angelic brothers were wondrous beings, but they were still only pale shadows of the One who loved, sustained, and held the universe together by the sheer force of his will.

  Faithfulness was his character. Faithfulness was his name.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Wiping a tear from her cheek, Annie switched off the E.R. rerun before the local news could come on and destroy the mood. Doctors Carter and Corday had been unable to save an elderly woman with heart trouble, and the sad scene where Dr. Carter had to face the woman’s weeping daughter had cut a little too close to Annie’s reality.

  She pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand, then blew her nose so forcefully her ears popped. She’d w
ept like a baby through the last ten minutes of the TV drama, and now her head felt swollen.

  Three weeks had passed since Olympia had sailed away, and not a single lobsterman, pleasure boat, or Coast Guard cutter had been able to capture the casket. The last report, called in by a Canadian cruise ship, had the casket moving toward Greenland.

  Annie felt more helpless than Dr. Carter.

  “Stupid show,” she muttered, wadding the tissue into a ball. She tossed it in the general direction of the trash-can, then hesitated when she saw the lilac envelope on the bedside table.

  The invitation to Salt’s and Birdie’s wedding had arrived in the afternoon mail, and Annie had been surprised to read that the great event had been pushed forward. They were planning to tie the knot at four o’clock on Thursday afternoon, a mere three days away.

  Annie regarded the invitation with mixed feelings. She was genuinely happy for the couple, but it was hard to rejoice for friends when your own heart was heavy with loss and discouragement. It would be hard to face the islanders as a failure in Olympia’s cause … and even harder to tell them that she and A.J. were kaput.

  Lately Annie had begun to wonder if she would ever find love at all.

  Maybe she could come up with some project to work on later in the week. Then she could call Caleb and beg out of the wedding. Salt and Birdie would have eyes for only each other; they certainly wouldn’t miss her. The only locals who’d even notice her absence would be Tallulah, Caleb, and—she drew in a sharp breath. Would Dr. Marc care if she didn’t come?

  A silly question, really. The man had a lot on his plate; he certainly didn’t have time to entertain fond feelings for his son’s ex-girlfriend.

  Sighing, she leaned over and turned out the lamp. Darkness engulfed her bedroom, held at bay only by the thin sliver of light edging the bottom of her window shade.

  After beating her lumpy pillow into submission, Annie curled up beneath her comforter and tucked her hands beneath her chin. She had felt listless and irritable all day, feelings that had bloomed into outright depression when she had picked up the mail and discovered an official letter from the Durpee Seed Company behind the wedding invitation. Jack Wilson, president of hybrid development, had written to announce officially that she would not receive any compensation for her tomato hybrid. The Durpee Seed Company, however, appreciated her fine efforts and wished her the best in her future endeavors… .