Love of a Lifetime

by Carol Voss

  He peered into her eyes. “Who else would I tell?” He dropped his gaze and reached to grasp her locket, his rough fingers brushing her throat.

  Oh, no. Why had she worn the necklace this morning? Please don’t let him open the locket.

  “I’m surprised you kept this.”

  “It was a birthday gift.” She sounded almost as panicked as she felt. “Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know…maybe because you didn’t want to be reminded of me.” He flipped open the locket and looked at the pictures inside.

  Maggie’s heart almost stopped. The pictures—one of her parents, one of him and the tiny picture of their baby girl. Would he want to know who the baby was? Was she ready to tell him?

  “You were a cute baby.”

  She swallowed. He assumed the baby was her?

  “Who’s the skinny guy?”

  Maggie dragged a shallow breath. “An old friend.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you still count me as a friend?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But friends say goodbye.” Snapping the locket closed, he withdrew his hand. “I was afraid you’d talk me out of leaving.”

  She nodded. “I would have tried.”

  “I couldn’t risk it. Not even when I knew I would hurt you by leaving that way. I’m sorry, Maggie. I just hope you can forgive me someday.”

  She caught her breath. She’d waited ten long years for his apology. And now that he’d said it, it didn’t change anything.

  But that didn’t stop her from drinking in his words like parched earth drinks in rain. Returning his dark gaze, she felt as if her heart was melting.

  I know what You would have me do, God. You don’t want me to hang on to this burden anymore. “I forgive you, Tony,” she whispered.

  * * *

  Tony was all thumbs in Nonna’s old kitchen. Somehow, cooking the spaghetti and marinara sauce he’d made a thousand times before had become a monumental task with Maggie bustling around setting the table and searching the pantry and cupboards for things he needed. She clearly didn’t know her way around Nonna’s kitchen any better than he did.

  But that hadn’t been the real problem.

  The real problem was that food was the last thing on Tony’s mind. Even now as he sat at the table with Maggie and Hannah chatting about something or other that had happened at the diner today, his appetite had deserted him. That never happened.

  But he just couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around what had happened in the attic with Maggie. She’d forgiven him for leaving.

  How? Why? He still had a hard time believing it. Of course, he hadn’t known how to respond. Still didn’t.

  She must be on pretty good footing with God to have found enough strength to forgive him.

  “This is delicious.” Maggie blissfully rolled her eyes and concentrated on twisting spaghetti around her fork.

  “It’s terrific,” Hannah agreed as she plopped another forkful into her mouth.

  “Thanks.” He pushed food around on his plate. Trouble was, knowing Maggie would never forgive him for leaving the way he did had seemed to keep a barrier between them. A barrier that meant her friendship was more than he deserved. Which was true, and he’d accepted that.

  “Stella would enjoy this marinara sauce so much, Tony.” Maggie smiled.

  Her smile making his mouth go dry, he quickly looked away. Apparently, he’d counted on that barrier being there to remind him how to respond to her smile.

  “You could take some to the rehab center for her,” Maggie suggested.

  Tony glanced at her, then away again. He couldn’t help feeling awkward with her. Uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to relate to her now that she’d forgiven him. Now, he couldn’t be sure of the parameters of their relationship. Was that the problem?

  “I’ll look for a small container after supper if you want.” She dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

  “You missed a spot.” He pointed.

  “Oh?” She moved her napkin everywhere and still managed to miss the splotch of spaghetti on her chin. She looked at him expectantly. “Gone?”

  He shook his head. “Lower.”

  With a huff, she handed him the napkin.

  His throat going completely dry, he took the napkin and slowly, carefully wiped away the smudge of sauce.

  She met his eyes. “Thanks.”

  He wanted to pound his head against the table. How could she act as if nothing had changed since she’d gone and forgiven him? Didn’t she know she’d left him floundering around in territory he had no clue how to navigate?

  “You want to go to church tomorrow morning with Hannah and me?” Maggie asked.

  “Church?” He frowned at her.

  She nodded. “You used to spend a lot of time there, remember?”

  “Long time ago,” he murmured.

  “Aren’t you curious? At least, a little bit?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Then come with us. I sing in the choir, so you can sit with Hannah and keep her company.”

  “I hate sitting by myself,” Hannah admitted.

  Maggie gave him a pleading look.

  What could he say? She’d managed to find it in her heart to forgive him for deserting her. And she was finally asking him to do something for her? How could he refuse? “Okay.”

  Maggie’s lovely face broke into a grin. “Fantastic.”

  He’d clearly surprised her by agreeing to go to church with her. But her beautiful grin told him a whole lot more.

  It told him that he felt as stripped and vulnerable with her as he’d ever been.

  * * *

  Sunday morning, Maggie swallowed her last bite of toast just as Tony walked into the kitchen. He was clean-shaven, his hair still wet from a shower. He wore a blue T-shirt and newer jeans, a summer-weight black sports jacket dangling from one finger, obviously his concession to accompanying her and Hannah to church. He looked fantastic, if not the least bit happy.

  “Morning,” he said a little self-consciously.

  “Hi,” Hannah chirped.

  “Good morning,” Maggie said. “Looking good. Do you want toast?”

  “No, thanks. Do I have time to make coffee?”

  Checking her watch, Maggie shook her head. “Maybe instant in the microwave?”

  “Never mind, I’ll get some later.”

  Hannah hopped up, transferred her cereal bowl to the sink and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

  “We have to get a move on. We’ll meet you in the car.” Maggie hustled to the sink with her teacup.

  “Is the eight-thirty service crowded?” Tony asked.

  Maggie gave him a wary look. Was he going to change his mind about going? She hoped not, but she wouldn’t be totally surprised if he did. “It’s full of the younger crowd. Many of the older people go to the later, more traditional one.”

  He gave a nod.

  She picked up her purse off the counter. “Ready?”

  “Sure.” He followed her out the door, and they silently walked to the Suburban and got in.

  Hannah ran down the walk, jumped in and they were off without a minute to spare. At least Tony hadn’t bolted. In eight minutes flat, Maggie walked nervously up the church steps between Hannah and Tony. He was still with them, but he was as skittish as she’d ever seen him.

  “Good morning.” Mrs. Chandler handed them church bulletins. “It’s nice to see all of you. Welcome home, Tony.”

  He gave a reluctant nod. “Thanks.”

  Maggie suppressed her anxiety, knowing Tony’s reluctance to call Noah’s Crossing home. “Any news from Jess?”

 
Mrs. Chandler’s face melted in a smile. “She’s decided to take a class toward finishing her interior-design degree now that Jake’s thriving in play school two mornings a week.”

  “Great.” Maggie grinned. “I need to call her and catch up.”

  “You do that, dear. You know how much she looks forward to talking to you.”

  “I enjoy it, too.” Maggie led the way into the sanctuary, then turned to Tony. “Do you want to sit near the back?”

  “Not here.” Tony glowered down at her. “I don’t want to sit by Coach Benton. Let’s move up a little.”

  “Okay. You and Hannah can decide where you want to sit. I need to be with the choir.”

  Tony’s jaw clenching, he glanced around as if looking for the least threatening spot in the entire church.

  Maggie touched his arm.

  He looked down at her, his eyes pinched, defensive.

  “Relax, okay?” She gave him a smile of encouragement. “This is a peaceful place. Just try to focus on the service and not worry about the people.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” She turned to Hannah. “I’ll meet you at the car afterward.”

  Hannah’s eyes rounded in surprise. “No doughnuts this morning?”

  “Not this morning.” She had the distinct impression Fellowship Hour might be a tad too much for Tony. Maggie hustled front and left to join her fellow choir members just as Betsy Carmichael began playing the prelude.

  Seated, she sorted through her music to be sure her sheets were in the right order, then scanned the congregation for Tony and Hannah. She found them near the middle, Hannah seated next to Lucas and his grandmother, Tony beside her on the center aisle. He had his head down, looking through the bulletin. So far as Maggie could tell, he was surrounded by people he shared no past with. Good. Maybe he’d be able to relax and enjoy the service.

  Betsy transitioned her tempo, the powerful organ swelling in powerful strains of “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee.” Maggie stood along with the choir and the rest of the congregation and joined in singing the delightful hymn.

  Recognizing Tony’s rich bass in the sea of singers sent goose bumps dancing over her skin. It had been so long since she’d heard him sing, and she’d always loved it.

  A couple hurrying down the aisle caught her eye. Sheriff and Mrs. Bunker were often last-minute arrivers. People moved over to allow them room, and they shuffled into the pew directly behind Tony and Hannah.

  Oh, no. Not there. Tony’s worst nightmare. Maggie almost lost her place in her favorite hymn. Please, God, don’t let Tony turn around.

  * * *

  “Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee,” Tony sang with gusto. He liked this hymn. He especially liked hearing Maggie’s clear, melodic soprano ringing true through others’ voices. Her tone was richer and more trained now than it had been in her teenage years, but it was just as engrossing. He couldn’t help smiling at her through the crowd.

  She returned his smile, then suddenly, her smile was gone. In its place, she looked alarmed, unhappy. What was wrong? She seemed to be focusing behind him. He turned to see what or who had stolen her smile.

  And looked directly into the sullen face of Sheriff Bunker.

  Without blinking or missing a note, Tony turned front and center, his mind racing to weigh his alternatives. Walking out would feel really good right about now. He could make a statement to Bunker by walking out. And he wouldn’t have to sit through the entire service pretending the sheriff wasn’t breathing down his neck. He turned to leave.

  But would Bunker get it? Probably not. He’d never been the brightest bulb in the pack. And walking out would confuse Hannah and upset Maggie. Not a good trade-off.

  Hearing the hymn ending, he scrapped the idea of leaving and sat. He tried to put Bunker out of his mind. He needed to settle down and concentrate on the service like Maggie had suggested. But in truth, he figured he might just as well resign himself to fifty-five more minutes of wishing he was anyplace else on earth.

  The choir’s parts were Tony’s favorite times. Maggie sang alone, in a duet or in groups, her lovely voice both uplifting and hauntingly serene.

  The service continued to move quickly. After a short prayer, a teenage boy gave a brief children’s sermon, kids filed out of the church and teenagers gave the readings. The congregation sang a hymn praising God, then the preacher stepped to the pulpit.

  Ah…the sermon. Tony braced himself for the ultimate lecture. If memory served him, the theme would focus on denying everything that was humanly possible and trying to convince him to be somebody he could never be, no matter how hard he tried.

  But unlike sermons in his past, this one wasn’t filled with accusation and condemnation. Instead, the pastor’s tone was light, empathetic and imbued with hope. His words were direct. His message was to the point. And he clearly reflected the freshness of the entire worship service.

  He pointed out that souls need communion with God beyond all other needs. That He wants us to know Him, to come to one with Him. That prayer is His way to accomplish that.

  Wow. Tony needed time to reflect on the powerful words. Like, maybe, for the rest of his life.

  Maggie and the choir sang a beautiful song that carried Tony’s spirit soaring along with it. When it ended, he managed to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and put some bills in the offering plate being passed by the usher in the center aisle.

  Turning to see Hannah’s sweet smile for Lucas, Tony directed his gaze to Maggie’s face.

  She shot him a question with her eyes.

  Was she concerned about his response to the service? Or the sheriff? Probably the former, knowing Maggie. Swallowing against a ton of emotions he had yet to figure out what to do with, about church and about her, he gave her a thumbs-up.

  Her smile lit her whole face.

  Suddenly, the unmistakable thought that he wanted more than friendship with her hit him solidly between the eyes.

  Come on, Stefano. Get real. You have no business thinking about a deeper relationship with her.

  She was an amazing, independent, talented woman with a heart as big as God’s universe. She was forced to grow up fast when her parents died, and she’d done a remarkable job of pulling her life together. And someday, she needed a guy who’d settle down and be there for her.

  Did that sound like him? Not by a long shot.

  Chapter Seven

  Tony held the convenience store’s glass door for Maggie, then walked into the air-conditioning behind her. He headed for the long line of coolers in the back, ignoring the man behind the counter and his customer. The farther Tony could steer clear of citizens from the past, the better.

  Going to church with Maggie and Hannah this morning had been a whole lot more mingling than he’d planned with Noah’s Crossing’s finest while he was here. Managing to avoid Sheriff Bunker after the service had taken special ingenuity. But keeping his focus on the service and off the people had made the experience serene, peaceful, even inspiring. When he’d said as much to Maggie, she’d somehow refrained from saying she’d told him so.

  And now, she had asked him to help her hang posters in town. Not exactly his cup of joe, but he couldn’t help being pleased she’d asked him for something he could deliver. His helping her with one of her projects was kind of like old times. Or it would be if he could get his teasing “old times” footing back with her.

  “Hey, Keith,” Maggie greeted cheerily. “Is it okay if I tack a poster for the Church Benefit Dairy Breakfast on your bulletin board?”

  “Go right ahead, Maggie.” The warmth in the older man’s voice was unmistakable.

  Reaching into the cooler for a six-pack of cola, Tony heard the door open and close, probably the other customer leaving.

&nbs
p; “Harold and Louise Phillips hosting the breakfast again this year?” Keith asked.

  “Yes,” Maggie answered. “It promises to be bigger and better than ever. Channel Nine is covering it. Have you signed up to do a display?”

  “Nope. I wouldn’t miss that good food, though.”

  “Great. How’s Stacy doing with her summer college classes?” Maggie asked.

  Walking toward the front of the store, Tony frowned. Little Stacy Meyers?

  “Good, far as I know. We don’t see much of her because she goes to bed with the chickens. And gets up with them to help Della out with her baking in the wee hours before going to class.”

  Tony set the cola on the counter. “Stacy’s old enough to go to college?”

  The slender man in the light blue shirt and thinning sandy hair grinned. “She’s nineteen. I can hardly believe it myself.”

  “When she graduated last year, she won the Clarissa Chandler four-year scholarship to study science,” Maggie interjected.

  “Good for her.” Tony remembered Nonna writing about Jessie’s sister dying in a fire.

  “I used to babysit her,” Maggie said from near the front door. “Boy, did she love ice cream.”

  Keith chuckled. “She still has a serious sweet tooth, but she doesn’t gain an ounce. She works too hard.”

  Tony fished his wallet out of his back jeans pocket.

  “I think Stacy’s genes have a lot to do with her not gaining weight,” Maggie said, pinning her poster. “Keith hasn’t put on a pound in ten years, has he, Tony?”

  “Guess not.” Tony did a quick scan of the man behind the counter as he handed him a few bills.

  Keith rang up the sale and gave Tony change. “You’ve put on some solid muscle since I last saw you.”

  “Heavy construction.”

  Keith gave a nod. “Do you need more tacks, Maggie?”

  “There are plenty here. I’m just catching up on the news.”

  Tony picked up his purchase, ready to leave old-home week behind.

  “How’s your grandma doing, Tony?”