Jazzed

  “We all wait anxiously for warm sunshine and brighter days,” the pastor said, “but we can spread cheer and hope by reaching out to little Matthew Polk with our prayers, kind words, and support of the upcoming fundraiser sponsored by the Stony Point High School student council here at the church community center. With our help and God’s blessing, Matthew will have his eye surgery and will be back to riding his bicycle in no time.”

  Right on cue, Gloria Golden, the church’s longtime pianist, lightly began the introduction to Morning Has Broken. Reverend Wallace motioned for the congregation to stand as folks lifted their hymnals.

  Annie scanned the congregation in search of Ian. Most likely, he was sitting in his usual spot on the aisle in the fifth row, and she was grateful to have the wall of people between them. So far, she had been able to dodge his phone calls since “the kiss.” But she couldn’t avoid him forever.

  Dropping her eyes to the songbook, Annie sang the last two lines of the second verse. “Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden, Sprung in completeness where His feet pass.”

  The words brought comfort she so deeply needed. Even if she didn’t know what was happening with Ian, God did. The singing continued. “Praise with elation! Praise every morning, God’s re-creation of the new day!”

  The song ended and Reverend Wallace called the congregation’s attention to the day’s Bible verses, Psalm 139: 1–6 and 23–24.

  “Read, listen, and find strength in God’s Word,” he said.

  Annie opened her Bible to Psalm 139 and marked the page with her bulletin before taking a pencil from her purse. Pencil tip poised over the passage, she silently read along with the pastor, pausing from time to time to underline key words:

  “O Lord, You have searched me and known me.

  You know my sitting down and my rising up;

  You understand my thoughts afar off.

  You comprehend my path and my lying down,

  And are acquainted with all my ways.

  For there is not a word on my tongue,

  But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.

  You have hedged me behind and before,

  And laid Your hand upon me.

  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me.

  It is high; I cannot attain it.”

  The shepherd’s words washed over Annie, and she silently prayed. Lord, you understand my thoughts from afar. Please help me understand my own thoughts, my own actions. I love Wayne and miss him terribly. What do I do with these feelings for Ian?

  She drew a line under the last two verses in the passage.

  “Search me, O God, and know my heart;

  Try me and know my anxieties;

  And see if there is any wicked way in me,

  And lead me in the way everlasting.”

  Reverend Wallace closed his Bible and set it on the lectern. “Let us pray.”

  As the pastor started to lead the congregation in prayer, Annie silently mouthed one of her own. Please, God, keep me from hurting Ian with my confusion. He is such a good man. She tried to focus on the pastor’s words of prayer, with varying degrees of success, and added her “amen” to the chorus of voices around her. As the service moved through the children’s story, and then Reverend Wallace’s message of hope and rejuvenation, Annie waivered in and out of conscious listening, often lost in her own thoughts. She was caught by surprise when Reverend Wallace’s voice began the benediction.

  “Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace, comfort, and hope, now and forevermore.” He strode to the back of the church while Gloria, her head bobbing as her hands moved over the piano keys, filled the air with This Is My Father’s World.

  Annie stood with the congregation. She smiled and returned a wave to Josephine Booth, a library volunteer who had been childhood friends with Annie’s mother, as she moved into the aisle and toward the door.

  “Annie, how are you?” said a deep voice from behind her.

  She turned to see Police Chief Reed Edwards standing next to her. “Good morning, Reed. I’m well, and you?” Annie hoped she seemed like her cheerful self, but she really didn’t feel like it.

  The chief lightly touched her forearm. “Everything has been quiet lately. I’m glad I’ve not made an official call to Grey Gables in quite some time. But it’s good to see you in church.”

  “I agree, Reed, I agree.” Annie inched closer to Reverend Wallace, who was standing by the door. “Stay safe out there now.”

  She glanced behind her and caught a glimpse of Ian and Alice deep in conversation while waiting to file out of the church. A pang of guilt shot through her. This was the first time in a long while she had not sat between them during Sunday services. I should wait for them. But what would I say to Ian?

  Annie turned toward the door. Moving her Bible and church bulletin to her left hand, she held out her other hand to the pastor. “Good morning, Reverend Wallace. Your message was particularly appreciated today. Thank you.”

  “It’s good to see you, as always, Annie.” He held her hand a bit tighter and looked into her eyes. “Is everything all right? It’s not like you to be late to church, even in the nasty weather we’ve been having lately.”

  ****

  “Where have you been, and why aren’t you answering your phone? Are you OK?”

  Annie could hear Alice’s lacquered nails tapping on the other end of the line. “I’m fine, Alice, really. I’m just trying to catch up on things around here. I’ve finished Ariel’s sweater and boxed it for mailing and paid some bills.”

  Her friend’s voice was tinged with concern. “Ian and I were worried about you Sunday. First you were late for church, and then you left without waiting for us. When you missed the Hook and Needle Club meeting this morning, I decided I was going to talk to you today if I had to hunt you down and hog-tie you to a chair!”

  Annie walked from the kitchen into the living room, sat on the couch next to Boots, and wondered what to say to Alice, who knew her better than anyone except LeeAnn. “No hog-tying necessary, I’m sure. I’m sorry I worried you. Sometimes I still miss Wayne so much it overwhelms me. When I get like this it’s better for me to ride it out by myself. I don’t want to burden my friends.”

  Alice snorted. “Annie Dawson, that’s about the silliest thing I’ve ever heard you say. A friend going through a tough time is not a burden. Your friends love you.”

  Annie rubbed the side of the cat’s chin with her free hand. “I’m blessed with good friends. That I know for sure. And I’m all right. I just have to work though these feelings.”

  “We missed you this morning. Vanessa updated us on the Polk family fundraiser. She’s quite the event planner. Most of the arrangements are completed, including live entertainment, food vendors, and all sorts of sale items.” Alice cleared her throat. “Vanessa asked how your rummage items and coasters were coming along. I didn’t know what to tell her.”

  Guilt washed over Annie. The yarn and crochet needle remained unused in her craft bag on the end of the couch. “I’ll start working on the coasters today; they won’t take too long to complete once I get started.”

  A beep indicated an incoming call on Alice’s phone. “Annie, this is a party hostess returning my call; I need to take this. But I’ll call you tonight, OK? Just remember I’m right next door if you need me. Bye!”

  “I’ll be fine. We’ll talk later. Bye.” Annie switched off the phone and reached for her craft bag. “Well, Boots, I’d best get crackin’ on these coasters.”

  Boots yawned, her eyes closing as she lowered her head back against the pillow featuring a Betsy Original cross-stitch of Butler’s Lighthouse. Annie rose from the couch, crossed the room to the stereo, and tuned in to the classic rock station in Portland. Maybe I’ll crochet faster to rock music.

  Pulling out the pattern for the “Nature Star” coasters, her B hook, and the daffodil-color yarn from the bag, Annie started the first of six coasters in yellow. Her well-practiced fingers moved quickly, the h
ook grasped between the thumb and index finger of her right hand while the left hand worked the yarn.

  Time slipped away into the music of the seventies, her fingers creating coaster after coaster as she sang along with bands from her high school years: The Eagles, Boston, Fleetwood Mac and Chicago. Before she knew it, six completed daffodil yellow coasters were stacked on the coffee table.

  Tiring of the radio commercials, Annie put on one of her new jazz CDs before heading to the kitchen to fix a cup of tea. She returned to the living room with chamomile tea and a small bowl of mixed nuts. Taking a break from crocheting, she allowed herself to be swept away by the music.

  Suddenly, tears begin dripping down her cheeks as she thought of Ian and her growing feelings for him. Guilt settled over her like the pervasive Maine fog. The house suddenly seemed confining, and a need to feel the cold wind and salt air overwhelmed her. She hurried to the mudroom, stepped into her boots, and put on her coat before following the path to the beach. The temperature was dropping as the afternoon faded. The wind stung her eyes, and the cold sent shivers down her spine. In a strange way, the discomfort began to clear away the fog in her head.

  Do I love Ian? Is it really possible to love again? Mom and Dad died after sharing not only their love for each other but for God and mankind too. They didn’t have a chance to grow old together. But Gram and Grandpa did. Gram’s love for him never faded, even after he died. What is happening to my feelings for Wayne?

  Memories of their years together flooded Annie’s mind, the little things that made life special—the smell of strong coffee brewing, televised Dallas Cowboy games, and holding hands in church. Even the way the twins tossed their heads when sudden happiness struck them reminded Annie of Wayne and the love they shared.

  But dreams of Wayne are less frequent now, Annie thought. Sometimes days pass without a thought of him. The hole in my life is still there. So why is the raw pain dimming?

  She closed her eyes and pictured Wayne at his desk in the Chevrolet dealership they ran together, eyes twinkling and lips smiling as she handed him a cup of coffee. What if the pain fades to the point I can’t remember him? Annie shivered in the bitter wind. Why did God give me this beautiful marriage, only to take Wayne before we grew old together like Gram and Grandpa? What am I to do with all of this life I have left?

  By the time she made her way back up the path to the house, the last signs of daylight were fading. The phone was ringing as she entered the house, but Annie climbed the stairs without answering it. Boots, sensing the change in Annie’s demeanor, followed her upstairs for the night.

  7

  Standing on the edge of Town Square in Stony Point, Charlie scanned the crowd and contemplated joining a group of sailors gathered near the bandstand.

  Then he saw her.

  Charlie couldn’t pull his gaze from the vivacious young woman as she dipped a ladleful of punch into a cup and handed it to her raven-haired younger sidekick. Keeping his eyes on her smile, he made his way through the growing crowd to the refreshment table.

  “How’s the punch?” Charlie smiled at the two friends and felt his face flush at their obvious delight at his presence.

  “Delicious,” the older girl said. She ladled punch into another cup and held it out to him. “Try some.”

  His hand tingled when his fingers brushed hers as he grabbed the cup. “Thank you, Miss …” He hesitated, fighting the urge to brush a lock of her dark blond hair away from her green eyes.

  “Betsy. And this is my friend, Stella. Nice to meet you.”

  Betsy placed a hand on Stella’s arm as her young friend blushed and dropped into a slight curtsy. Charlie took a slow sip of the sweet, fruity liquid and tried to collect his thoughts. “I just came from nonstop noise in New York City. I like your Stony Point. It reminds me of home.”

  Betsy smiled. “Where is home?”

  Charlie switched the cup to his left hand and wiped the other on his blue uniform trousers. “Connecticut. I was raised on a farm near Putnam. I’m on my way back home from the South Pacific by way of Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., and New York City.”

  Betsy reached for Charlie’s empty cup, refilled it, and handed it back to him. “How did you end up in Stony Point?”

  Grasping the proffered punch, Charlie nodded his thanks. “A buddy of mine left something behind on the ship. I stopped in Stony Point to give it to him. Maybe you know him—Harold Stevens?”

  “Yes, we know Harold quite well,” said Stella, tugging nervously on the skirt of her dress to smooth the navy blue fabric. “In fact, Betsy—”

  Her words were interrupted by the arrival of Ethel Statom, Stella’s piano teacher since childhood. “Stella, thank goodness I found you. The band is looking for someone to sing a song as a special tribute to the troops. I suggested you, of course. The bandleader is waiting for us by the bandstand.”

  Looking from Charlie to Betsy, Stella hesitated a moment before answering Mrs. Statom.

  “I’d be honored,” she said before turning to Charlie. “I hope to see you later. It was nice to meet you.”

  Charlie nodded. “My pleasure.”

  The pleasure, he thought, was having Betsy’s undivided attention. They strolled around the park sharing bits about themselves. He learned she loved to cross-stitch, bake pies, and sit by the sea. She heard about the first time he saw a horse give birth, his habit of waking early enough to watch the sunrise over the pasture, and the sense of satisfaction he felt serving his country.

  When the music began to play, Betsy and Charlie danced an entire set, moving in sync as if they had been partners for years. The music slowed, and they gazed into each other’s eyes as Stella’s voice filtered over the dance floor.

  “She has the most beautiful voice,” said Betsy, glancing at the stage. “She’s usually so shy around people. I didn’t think they would get her onstage.”

  Charlie’s eyes never left Betsy’s face. “Yep.”

  The music stopped, and the bandleader stepped to the microphone.

  “Let’s give the lovely young lady a round of applause ….”

  ****

  Alice, her blue eyes flashing and right fist poised to resume frantic rapping on the door, jumped when it suddenly swung open.

  “Annie! Gosh, are you OK? My knuckles are bruised from knocking so long. I was about to call Chief Edwards! I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday afternoon.”

  Annie blinked. “I don’t even know when the phone rang last. I’m all right. Come in, and I’ll make some coffee.” She opened the door wider and ushered her friend into the living room.

  Shrugging out of her jacket, Alice absentmindedly disentangled her set of colorful bangle bracelets from her sweater sleeve and then looked Annie in the eyes. “You don’t look OK to me. What gives?”

  Annie hesitated and rubbed a hand over her face as her eyes filled with tears. “He kissed me.”

  Alice shook her head and raised her eyebrows as she hung her jacket on the coat rack. “Forgive me, but how is that a problem?”

  “It’s not funny.” Annie’s melodic voice was unusually tense. “I’m just really confused right now. I can’t stop thinking about Wayne and how I’m being unfaithful to him. Tossing and turning all night did nothing to clear my head.”

  Alice opened her mouth to say tossing and turning did nothing to help her case of bed head, either. But Annie wasn’t in the mood for teasing, so she exercised self-restraint. “This is huge, my friend. You know I’m here for you twenty-four seven, but you must face this head-on, and nobody is better suited to help you regain your footing than Reverend Wallace.”

  Stifling a yawn, Annie nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Maybe I should give him a call.”

  Alice followed Annie to the kitchen as her concern mounted. The indecisive tone was unlike Annie. Her friend was known for sound judgment and an ability to focus on what needed to be done. The sleeping late, dark circles under her eyes, and slumped shoulders sounded alarm bells. Would she
really make the phone call? Gently taking the bag of coffee from Annie’s hands, Alice hugged her. “Annie, you look exhausted. Let me fix the coffee and call Reverend Wallace while you relax in a nice hot shower.”

  Stifling Annie’s protest with a “shhh” and finger to her lips, Alice nodded to the doorway leading to the hallway and stairs. “Go. I’ll make coffee.” As soon as she heard Annie clear the stairs, she pulled out her cellphone and hit the church’s speed-dial number. It didn’t take long to get the minister on the line via his secretary, Ellen.

  “Alice, how are you?” Alice instantly felt relieved when she heard Reverend Wallace’s warm and jovial voice.

  “I’m fine, Reverend, but I’m really concerned about Annie. She’s going through a rough time right now, and I was hoping you would talk to her. She said it was all right for me to call you.” Alice paused, unsure of how much to say. “She seems confused and listless. It’s not like her. She’s feeling a lot of guilt about Wayne.”

  Reverend Wallace sighed. “I’m tied up all day with the Stebbins family. Bill’s funeral is this afternoon. Do you have time to stay with Annie most of the day to make sure she’s all right? I can stop by Grey Gables first thing in the morning to see her.”

  “Sure thing,” Alice said. “Anything for Annie. We can work on our needlecraft projects all day. Thanks for your help.”

  “You’re very welcome. I’ll see her tomorrow. And Alice, you did the right thing by calling me.”

  “I’m glad I did, Reverend. Please give my regards to the Stebbins clan. I was sorry to hear about Bill. Goodbye.”

  By the time Annie came downstairs looking more like herself in fresh clothes and makeup, Alice had not only fixed coffee, but had run to the carriage house and fetched homemade zucchini bread and her cross-stitch project for the rummage sale.