Season of Angels (9781101612170)

by Kinkade, Thomas; Spencer, Katherine

  Sam sat down on a nearby stool and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that why you decided this was suddenly so important? Because Uncle Kevin is moving?”

  “Not exactly. I guess it was part of the reason. No one likes to talk about it, but I might be going on a long journey myself pretty soon.” She hoped she didn’t sound maudlin, but facts were facts. “I’d rather see my children reconcile face-to-face than watch from some cloud up in heaven.”

  Sam laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry, I’ll bet you’ll make sure they give you a cloud with a good view, Grandma. And I know you’re trying to do the right thing,” he added in a more serious tone. “It’s good to hear that Uncle Kevin has straightened out his life. I’m happy for him, honestly. But I don’t know about Dad. He just has a block about that entire chapter in his life. It meant more to him than just losing that business.”

  “I know, dear, I know. But we have to start someplace, don’t we? We have to get them talking to work through this.”

  Sam gave her a look. He could see she had assumed he would help her, and that wasn’t necessarily the case.

  “I think I can understand why Grandpa thought Uncle Kevin should get the business,” he said at last. “And if I were in Dad’s place, I guess, after all this time, I would try to forgive my brother. I’d at least hear him out. But I’m not sure I can really help you with all this. I can’t force Dad to get together with Uncle Kevin. I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

  “I know we can’t force your father to forgive Kevin,” Adele agreed. “All I’m asking for here is a first step. I want him to at least hear me out.”

  “Have you tried to talk to him about this?” Sam asked.

  “A few times over the years, though perhaps not as often as I should,” she admitted. “He would hang up the phone or walk right out of my house and get in the car.” She looked up at her grandson, meeting his blue eyes. “I’m afraid I’ve been a bit of a coward, Sam. I never wanted to risk angering Joe so much that he shut me out completely.” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “We’re barely speaking as it is.”

  “I know,” Sam said quietly. “Dad’s like Molly and me and every other Morgan—strong-willed and stubborn. We don’t change our minds easily when we think we’re right. Let’s see . . . how can I get him to listen?” Sam rose and looked around the shop. He picked up an elastic cord that he used to secure ladders in the back of his truck, and arched one eyebrow. “I could tie him to a chair . . . or fasten a weight on his leg.” He picked up a metal vise. “He won’t get very far with this baby strapped to his ankle.”

  Adele had to laugh. It was the first time she had laughed in days, she realized. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. But keep the equipment handy.”

  “When do you want to see Dad? I could bring you over there tonight, I guess.”

  “Soon. But not tonight. That’s too soon. I just saw your sister Molly,” Adele added. “She doesn’t want to help me.”

  Sam didn’t look surprised. “She’s close to Dad. I’m sure she would feel like she was betraying him or something.”

  “What about you? Do you feel that way, too?” Adele wondered if she should even be asking that question, giving her only ally a way out, but she had to know.

  Sam thought about it for a moment then shook his head. “I love Dad as much as anyone. But that doesn’t mean he never makes mistakes. Holding a grudge against his brother—and you—all this time is a mistake. It’s hurt the family and robbed him of his own peace of mind.”

  Adele knew that was true. “Thank you, dear, for saying that. It helps me. But let me think a little about when I should go see your father. I’ll have to call you.”

  “All right, Grandma. Here are all my phone numbers, in case you don’t have them handy down here.” He handed her a card with the numbers at his shop, his cell phone number, and his home, scrawled on the back. Adele took it and put it in her purse.

  “Can I at least tell Jess and the kids that you’re here?”

  “Of course you can. I can’t wait to see them.” She had seen them from a distance at the service on Sunday but didn’t bother to tell Sam that. They had looked so different to her, she reflected.

  She hardly saw Sam’s children or any of her great-grandchildren on this side of the family. It pained her to be a stranger to them, especially the very young ones, who barely remembered her between their infrequent visits.

  Sam brushed off some dust from the table he had been sanding. “I would take you back home for dinner tonight,” he said, “but I have to be at church for a deacons meeting in a little while. There’s a lot to do with Christmas coming.”

  “That’s all right. I’ve had a big day. And you have work to do. I’m just going back to the inn for dinner. The food is very good,” she added.

  “So I’ve heard, but Jessica is a good cook, too. I’ll check with Jess about a good night to have you over and call you.”

  Adele was cheered by the invitation. “Anytime would be fine with me.” She stood next to him and smiled. “Thank you, dear, for agreeing to help me.”

  Sam looked down at her with a quizzical expression. “I’ll do what I can, Grandma. But I have to be honest, I don’t think you’ll get very far with Dad. He can really dig his heels in when he wants to.”

  “Yes, I know. I raised him. He’s just like his father, that’s the funny thing. But you said it yourself, I’m trying to do the right thing. So we have to go forward with faith, Sam. You of all people should remember that.”

  He nodded and smiled. “That is true, Grandma. I’ll try to remember.”

  The moment Adele closed the door to the shop, she heard the sander start up again. It was too late to stop in the Bramble. The sign on the door said CLOSED, COME AGAIN. She was too tired anyway for more conversation. She headed back down Main Street toward the harbor where her car was parked. Her meeting with Molly had been deflating, but at least she had Sam on her side. Partly, anyway.

  Thank you, God, she said, sending up a silent prayer. We’re batting one for two today. That’s not too bad.

  * * *

  Molly was just writing out the cooking orders for the night crew and getting ready to go home when her cell phone rang. She recognized Sam’s number and quickly picked up the call.

  “Did you get my message?” she asked without bothering to say hello.

  “Grandma Addie is in town,” he said simply. “I didn’t have to pick up your message. She came to see me, too.”

  “I figured that was her next move. So, what did you tell her? You’re not siding with her against Dad, are you?”

  Molly heard her brother sigh. Not a good sign. If he is going to get all thoughtful and patient about this, it is going to make me nuts, she thought.

  “It’s not that simple, Moll. It’s not about taking sides, for or against. If you start thinking about it that way, we’re never going to get anywhere.”

  “Call it whatever you want, Sam, but it is simple. Real simple. Grandpa and Grandma broke Daddy’s heart when they didn’t give him the store after all those years of promising it to him. Remember how he used to talk about it at the dinner table? When we get the store this, and when we get the store that, and when we move up to Vermont—”

  “I remember, Molly. I was there, too.”

  “Well, you don’t sound as if you were. If you start taking Grandma’s side in this now, it’s as if he’s being betrayed all over again. Now, by his own son.” Molly knew she was raising her voice, but she couldn’t help it. She just got like this sometimes.

  Sam was so quiet, she wondered if he had hung up.

  “Yes, it was wrong,” he said at last. “The way they all handled it was very wrong. Grandpa should have figured out some other way of trying to help Uncle Kevin, to make sure he had some security. But all this anger and b
itterness is wrong, too, Molly. Grandma Addie is nearly ninety now. And even if she weren’t, I don’t think it’s right for Dad to stay so angry at his own brother and mother. I think Grandma is right; it’s time to sort this out and make peace. Before it’s too late. Dad might regret it if he never even tries. I love him, too. But he’s not perfect.”

  Molly felt her blood pound in her head. “Oh, he’s not perfect? Well, he’s perfect enough for me. I’m sticking by Daddy. He’s done nothing wrong here. How about blaming the victim, ever hear of that? If Uncle Kevin wants to make amends so badly, he should come on his own. And he should have done it a long time ago,” she added, “not send poor old Grandma.”

  “Oh, Molly, calm down. Kevin didn’t send her. It’s all her idea.”

  “That’s what she says. I’m not sure I believe her . . . and don’t ‘oh, Molly’ me, okay?”

  “Okay. Look, I’ve got to go. We’re not going to figure this out, shouting at each other over the phone. She’s here and she wants Dad to hear her out. I think we can agree on that much, can’t we?”

  Molly didn’t know what to say to that. “Yes, she’s here. But honestly, I wish she would go back to Vermont and not stir everything up. And right before the holidays. Do we really need all this drama right now? Isn’t life insane enough? I know mine is. I have about five hundred parties to do between now and January second and the girls are coming home soon and Laurie and the twins are coming for Christmas—”

  “I know, Molly. Everyone’s holidays are out of control. But maybe Christmas is the right time to face these things. Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men . . . Isn’t that what the season is really all about?”

  Molly sighed. Trust her brother to fire back with Christmas carol lyrics instead of plain old insults. Sam just didn’t fight fair.

  “You got me there, pal. But that still doesn’t persuade me to help Grandma.”

  “Fine. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Have a good night,” he said finally.

  “Yeah, you, too.”

  Molly hung up, still fuming. When had she been this mad at her brother? She couldn’t even remember. But she couldn’t help it. And she was even more annoyed at her dear old grandma.

  What’s right is right, she reminded herself. Dredging up all these old family problems and painful memories right before the holidays was just not right.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Adele got up the next morning, she wondered if she would hear from Sam soon. She was looking forward to visiting his family. She wanted to bring little Lily a present—a stuffed animal or maybe the pink princess hat and glove set she had seen in town. She wondered if she should bring the boys something, too. They were getting so big, she didn’t know what they liked anymore. She would have to ask Sam.

  But when would he call? Would he have any ideas on how to approach Joe? That was the main thing. It was hard to sit and wait, but she realized she had done all she could for now. The last thing she wanted was for Sam to feel pestered or nagged. He had been so good to agree to help, which Adele appreciated even more after Molly’s refusal.

  Adele followed the scent of pancakes to the kitchen, where she found Claire spooning batter onto a sizzling skillet. A stack of pancakes, fragrant and steaming, were already piled high on a platter on the counter near the stove, with a pot cover keeping them warm.

  “Those look and smell simply delicious,” Adele said. “Sure beats my daily bowl of high-fiber cereal.”

  “Everyone needs a change from their routine now and again,” Claire said with a smile. “Even a health routine.”

  Adele agreed, especially when the change was so appetizing. “I can’t remember the last time I had pancakes,” she told Claire. “Doesn’t seem worth the bother for one person.” And almost nobody comes to visit and stay over anymore, she added silently.

  Claire set the platter on the table then poured Adele a mug of coffee. Dishes and place settings were already laid out. Claire took the seat she had the day before. “Help yourself. No need to wait.”

  Needing no further encouragement, Adele slipped two thin, golden pancakes off the plate and onto her dish, then added butter and syrup and a shake of cinnamon. She was just about to dig in when a knock sounded on the back door. Adele and Claire turned at the same time. Claire wiped her hand on a towel and walked over to answer it. “Who could that be at this hour?”

  Adele felt her fork fall from her hand and heard it clatter on her dish. She knew who it was. She saw his face through the window on the door, looking cross and impatient. It was Joe. Either Molly or Sam had broken their word. And she had a good guess it had not been Sam.

  “Oh, hello, Joe. How are you this morning?” Claire opened the door and let him in. If she thought there was something odd about Joe Morgan showing up at seven in the morning, without Adele ever mentioning him, she didn’t show it.

  “Can’t complain, Claire. How are you?” Joe said the words mechanically. Adele was sure he could complain, given the opportunity, about her being here for one thing. She felt his gaze fixed on her and slowly turned to him.

  “Hello, Joe . . . You’ve surprised me.”

  He took a few steps closer to her. “No, Mom. You’ve surprised me. Molly says you’ve been here since Saturday. Hiding out.”

  Molly. She knew it. “Not exactly hiding. But I did get here on Saturday. I saw Molly yesterday. And Sam,” she added.

  “And you asked them not to tell me that you’re here. Why is that? Are you sick? Did you have a health scare?”

  Well, at least he had some feelings for her, she reflected. He did seem concerned.

  “At my age, closing your eyes and falling asleep every night can be a health scare, Joe.”

  He shook his head, looking annoyed. “You know what I mean, Mom. So, you’re not here because there’s something wrong? That’s all I’m asking.”

  She was tempted to jump right into that opening. But he seemed so put out just to find her here that she wasn’t sure this was the right time to begin that difficult conversation. Besides, she wasn’t sure what he already knew. “Didn’t Molly tell you?”

  “She wouldn’t say. She barely told me you were here. She sort of slipped last night on the phone and then wouldn’t tell me anything more. Sam was no help, either. He practically denied seeing you.”

  “It’s not their fault. I asked them not to say anything.”

  She wished now that one of her grandchildren had told Joe her reason for coming. It would have taken some of the pressure off now.

  “So, are you sick or not? Is that the secret they were keeping?”

  “I’m totally fit and have no other pressing situations that might usually concern you—like a broken boiler or a leaky roof, if that’s what you mean.”

  Before he could reply, Claire interrupted. “Would you like some coffee, Joe? And some pancakes? I made plenty.”

  “Coffee would be nice. Thanks.” He took a seat at the table across from Adele, and Claire brought him a mug of coffee. He fixed it with milk and two sugars, the same way he had liked it as a teenager.

  An awkward silence fell between them. Joe’s expression was brooding as he stirred his coffee. Not a good sign, Adele thought. Before she could think of anything neutral to say, Jonathan Butler, the history student, came to the kitchen door. “Pancakes . . . those smell good.”

  Claire stepped forward from the stove, practically blocking his entry. She handed him a mug of coffee. “Good morning, Jonathan,” she greeted him cheerfully. “Why don’t you have a seat in the dining room? I’ll be in with your breakfast in a moment.”

  Adele was thankful for her sensitivity. Claire quickly set the platter of pancakes and other breakfast items on a tray and headed for the door to the dining room. “You two sit and visit. I’ll be back in a while,” she said over her shoulder.

 
“So, how is Marie?” Adele asked once they were alone. She had loved Marie from the moment Joe brought her home all those years ago, and now she missed her daughter-in-law. “Does she know I’m here?”

  “Of course she does. Marie knows everything. Usually before I do.” He smiled for a moment then sipped his coffee. “She wanted to come and say hello, but she had to get to work.”

  “Still at the insurance office?”

  “That’s right, still there. And I’m still in the kitchen at the Spoon Harbor Inn.”

  Joe made light of his job, but he was actually the executive chef at a large, upscale restaurant that also hosted weddings and big events. It was a high-level job for his field, and he had worked hard to get there. He was earning a good salary now, better perhaps than what he might have made in the store, and he was working in the field he loved. Adele was proud of him.

  “And you’re still in Highland, Vermont,” he concluded. “Or you should be. So what’s up, Mom?” he added, his voice stern. “You still haven’t told me.”

  Adele sat back from the table. Her pancakes, cold and uneaten on her dish, no longer looked very appetizing. In fact, the mere sight was making her a little queasy. She focused instead on her son’s familiar face. His square jaw had softened with age. His dark hair, gone thin on top, was now all gray. He still had remarkable, sparkling blue eyes and thick dark brows and lashes. He still had a wide smile with deep dimples . . . when he cared to smile.

  He was not smiling now. He looked very serious, his chin thrust out as he waited for her reply. She wished Sam were here. This was not how she had planned or pictured starting this discussion with Joe. But there seemed little choice now but to lift her banner and march on.

  “The reason I’ve come, Joe, is that, after all these years, I think it’s time that we all sat down and talked about your father’s will and how much—”