Angel Sister

by Ann Gabhart

  “Not yet.” Nadine swallowed hard to keep the worry out of her voice, but Victor heard it anyway and put his arms around her.

  “They’ll come.” Victor kissed the top of her head and held her tightly for a moment before he stepped back and motioned toward Fern, who didn’t seem to pay any mind to the rain as she waited on the steps. “Fern’s house burned. She needs some dry clothes and a place to sleep.”

  “Clothes will dry,” Fern said without moving out of the rain.

  Nadine reached and took her hand to pull her up on the porch beside them. “Come, Fern. Let us help you.”

  “Don’t need help.” But she followed Nadine into the house. The woman looked oddly diminished with her gray hair plastered down around her face and the wet shirt under the overalls showing how very slim she was.

  Nadine went into the kitchen to get a towel, and Fern followed her. She counted the glasses of water on the table. “One, two, three, four. Hope. Good to have hope. When you lose that, you lose everything.” She picked up one of the glasses and drank it dry before she held out the empty glass to Nadine. “Fill it up again for Brother.”

  While Nadine was filling the glass, Fern stepped out the back door. Nadine set the glass down and hurried after her. “Wait, Fern.”

  Fern was standing at the edge of the back porch. “Listen,” she told Nadine.

  Nadine stopped half out the screen door and listened. All she could hear was the rain hitting the roof and dripping down into the rain barrels. After a moment she asked, “For what?”

  “They’re coming,” Fern said.

  “Who?” Nadine said as hope began bouncing around wildly inside her chest.

  “Brother. Your girl who looks like him and the little one who looks like me.” Fern pointed into the darkness.

  Nadine strained to see, but she couldn’t. “Are you sure?”

  Fern made a sound that might have been a laugh and put her fingers in her mouth to give a shrill whistle. In a moment, the same whistle echoed back to them. “Brother taught me the whistle.”

  Nadine was off the porch and running past Fern toward the sound before Fern had all the words out. “Kate!” she shouted.

  “Mama!” Kate’s beautiful voice came back to her.

  Lorena’s voice echoed hers. “Mama Angel.”

  Then they were hugging and laughing, and she had Lorena in one arm and the other arm around Kate and they were alive. Gloriously alive. Victor was there too with his arms around them all. Rejoicing in hope. Let thy mercy, O Lord, be upon us, according as we hope in thee. The Bible verse bubbled up inside Nadine’s head. The merciful Lord had brought her children out of the fire. And Graham.

  Nadine reached toward where Graham stood just out of their circle and grabbed his hand. “Thank you, Graham.”

  “Don’t give me all the credit. Poe here helped, didn’t he, girls?”

  Poe lifted his head and let out a long howl.

  “That’s about as happy as he gets,” Graham said.

  Lorena giggled and reached down to touch Poe’s head. Victor took Lorena and carried her back to the house, but Nadine kept one hand touching her and one touching Kate.

  When they went up on the back porch, Fern stepped out of the shadows. “Hope came,” she said.

  “Oh yes, Fern,” Nadine said. “They’re home.”

  Lorena jumped down from Victor’s arms as she shouted, “Fern.” She ran right to her and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I prayed that the fire wouldn’t get you.”

  Fern stayed stiff for a moment, but then she lifted her hand and softly laid it on Lorena’s wet tangle of curls.

  44

  ______

  The church was packed for the funeral. Everybody in Rosey Corner had to be there along with people from Edgeville and beyond who had grown up in the church thinking Preacher Reece was Rosey Corner’s Moses. The two sons had come in from Indiana. It had been years since they’d been back to Rosey Corner, and the oldest, Orrin Jr., caused a stir when he came in the church because of how much he looked like his father. The younger brother, James Robert, still had the gentle look that, according to Nadine, was so like his mother. When he first got out of the car at Rosey Corner, he and Nadine held each other and wept—not so much for their father, Victor thought, but for the years they’d been apart.

  There was one notable absence. Victor’s father. He hadn’t been seen since the fire. Hadn’t opened his store Friday or Saturday. Nobody in Rosey Corner could remember Merritt’s Dry Goods Store ever being closed two days in a row, not even during the influenza epidemic when Victor’s mother had died.

  Aunt Hattie checked on him on Saturday and came back shaking her head. “I ain’t seen him like this since Press Jr. drowned.” She had called Victor out in the yard away from the family and friends gathered to comfort Nadine. They stood under the big oak with the rope swing hanging down from one of its branches.

  Victor watched the swing move slightly in the breeze before he looked at Aunt Hattie. “You think I should care, but I don’t. He caused this.” He swept his hand out toward the blackened woods where logs were still smoldering. He looked back at Aunt Hattie. “He wanted me to lose Kate, to know what it was like to lose a child.”

  “No, no,” Aunt Hattie protested. “He couldn’t have wanted that. He loves that girl. Most of any of your girls.”

  “He said it.”

  Aunt Hattie peered up at Victor. “And you’ve never said an’thing you didn’t mean in a moment of anger? A moment of grief?”

  “A moment? It’s been nearly thirty years since Press died.”

  Aunt Hattie’s eyes bored into Victor. “How long do you think you would have grieved our Kate if she hadn’t made it out of the fire?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’ll tell you ’cause I know. A heart never stops achin’ over a lost child.” She hit her chest with a balled up fist and kept it over her heart. “My Bo, he’s right here with me ever’ day.”

  Victor’s eyes softened on Aunt Hattie’s wrinkled face. “I know, Aunt Hattie. I’m sorry. But you didn’t turn bitter. You kept loving the rest of us.”

  “True enough. Ain’t much left if you stop lovin’ folks around you. And the good Lord, he helped me forgive.”

  “Forgive who?”

  “The government that sent him to war. The army that pushed him out there on the front lines with those French soldiers. The Germans that shot him. Whoever the Lord laid on my heart to forgive so’s I could keep on breathing. Your daddy, he couldn’t never forgive.” She put her hand up on Victor’s cheek. “Don’t you be like him. You forgive. You got your family. You’s laid down the bottle.” She eyed him a minute until he nodded before she went on. “You got the Lord. You can forgive.”

  “So could he. It wasn’t Fern’s fault. It wasn’t my fault.”

  Aunt Hattie smiled sadly. “Oh, but child, don’t you see? That’s how come it was so hard for him to forgive. The one he had to forgive the most was his own self and he couldn’t do that. He had to lay the blame somewhere’s else.”

  Victor stared at her without saying anything. He couldn’t forgive his father. Not yet. When he thought of Kate and how near he’d come to losing her, he didn’t think he ever would.

  Aunt Hattie didn’t look disappointed in him. “You pray about it some and your heart might soften. You’ll see it weren’t all his fault. Things were set in motion. Things happened. We all stand in need of forgiveness.”

  She’d gone inside then and gotten Fern to take home with her. Fern was sitting by her now on the back pew in the church. She had on a dress, and Aunt Hattie must have cut her hair. Fern’s eyes kept darting to the door like a trapped animal looking for a way out, but she stayed beside Aunt Hattie.

  Brother Mike, the young preacher, looked nervous too as he stared out at the people assembled to pay their last respects to their preacher. Many of them had never known any other preacher at Rosey Corner Baptist Church, and they’d made sure the young preacher knew that. He swallowed
hard and stared down at his Bible, but then as he began reading the Twenty-third Psalm, his voice got stronger. People sat up and listened and were comforted by the familiar words.

  Victor took Nadine’s hand. Lorena was in Kate’s lap next to Nadine. She’d hardly let any of the girls out of her sight since the fire. Victoria was scooted up close to Kate on the other side.

  Only Evangeline didn’t seem especially bothered by Kate’s near escape. The night of the fire, she’d just looked at Kate and said, “I knew you’d be all right. You always are. No matter what crazy thing you do.” Now Evangeline wasn’t bothered about anything except Brother Mike. She was trying to be serious and proper, but there was a shine to her eyes that had nothing to do with tears for her grandfather.

  After the funeral sermon, the Rosey Corner Baptist Church deacons carried their preacher out to his final resting place in the cemetery beside the church. Carla began moaning as Orrin Jr. and Joseph Baxter helped her out to the graveyard. Nadine didn’t even glance in her direction. Many of the women were weeping, but Nadine watched dry-eyed as the young preacher read again from the Bible.

  “‘All are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.’” He flipped a few pages and read again. “‘Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.’” He looked up at the people gathered around the grave. “A duty this good man kept faithfully for many years as a pastor, a husband, a father, a grandfather, and friend. Let us who loved him do no less.” The men slowly lowered the casket into the grave.

  Each of the deacons took a handful of the dirt beside the grave and dropped it in on top the casket. Everybody began to walk back toward the church where the ladies had set up a meal on a wagon pulled up into the front churchyard, but Nadine stayed. Victor waited with her.

  After a long minute, she picked up a handful of dirt herself and dropped it into the grave. “I forgive you,” she whispered. Then she looked up at the sky. “Pray God you forgive me in return.”

  Then she turned to Victor. “I should have told him that while he was alive.”

  “Do you think he would have listened?” Victor looked at the grave.

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t have thought there was any reason for me to forgive him or so he would have pretended, but perhaps deep in his heart he would have listened and accepted my words. But no matter how he felt, I needed to say them. To turn loose of the past and pay more attention to the blessings of this day, this time.” She looked intently at Victor. “You. The girls. Our home.”

  “Are you trying to tell me I need to turn loose of the past too?” Victor asked.

  “And forgive your father.”

  “He doesn’t want my forgiveness.”

  “Perhaps not. But you need to give it. Inasmuch as we forgive, so we are forgiven.”

  “Are you going to step into the pulpit behind your father?” Victor asked.

  Nadine smiled and took his hand. “No. I’m happy being your wife and the mother of your children. Our children.”

  She was so beautiful that Victor could hardly breathe for a moment. Then he said, “Have you been happy, Nadine? With me?”

  “Not every minute, Victor. But more minutes than not.”

  “It’s you I should beg forgiveness. I haven’t—”

  “Shh.” She put her fingers over his lips to stop him talking. “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you, Victor Merritt.”

  He wanted to grab her and kiss her, to hold her until the sun sank in the west, but the men were waiting respectfully to the side to fill in the grave, and Kate and Victoria were calling to them from the front of the church. “And I love you, Nadine Reece Merritt.”

  “Then you’ll forgive Father Merritt?”

  Victor hesitated before he gave in. “All right. For you, Nadine, but he doesn’t deserve forgiveness.”

  The next morning, Victor went by the store on his way to the blacksmith shop. The store was still closed. Something white was nailed to the door. Stan Groggin, a man who sometimes worked part-time for his father, was sitting on the steps. When he saw Victor, he stood up and came to meet him.

  “Are you closing the store?” he asked without any other greeting. He was a wiry little man who was usually ready with a story and a smile, but he wasn’t smiling today.

  Victor wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “You mean the blacksmith shop?”

  “No, the store.”

  “I guess you’d better ask my father that.”

  “I did.” Stan looked a little uncomfortable as he took off his cap, stared at it a few seconds, and then jammed it back on his head. He looked past Victor toward the store’s door. “He was by here early. Stuck that up on the door and said you were the man with the answers now. Then he filled up his car at the pumps and drove off.”

  Victor looked around. “Where?”

  “Didn’t say. Didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood. Headed west toward Louisville.” Stan nodded toward the envelope on the door. “It’s got your name on it. I didn’t bother it. If you hadn’t a showed up, I was gonna come find you.”

  Victor stared at his name on the envelope before he took it off the door. He pulled out the nail and stuck it in his pocket. He couldn’t remember his father ever writing him a letter. Not even when he was in the war. For a minute he thought about just tearing it up without reading it, but then he remembered promising Nadine to forgive his father. He opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper.

  I’ve gone. Heading to Oregon. Always wanted to see the West. Tell Nadine she can run the store. Tell her to make them pay their bills. Most of them can. You know which ones. You’re the man with the answers now. Let Hattie live in the house.

  It looked like he had started to put his name, but then scratched it out and wrote: Tell Kate I’m sorry.

  And that was all. He didn’t sign his name. Victor looked up and stared down the road that went west. He needed more. More words. Then he looked back down and read again. Tell Kate I’m sorry. Maybe that was enough. The past couldn’t be changed.

  “What’s he say?” Stan asked, peering toward the paper in Victor’s hand.

  “He’s going to Oregon,” Victor said.

  “But what about the store?” Stan sounded worried. “You can’t just close up the store. Bill Baxter’s store don’t have half what your daddy carries.”

  “He wants Nadine to run it while he’s gone.”

  “You think she’ll do it?” Stan asked.

  “I don’t know. She’ll have to decide on that.”

  “Say what you want about Preston, but he always did know the answer.” Stan smiled and shook his head a little. “Nadine worked in the store while you were over there fighting the war, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “They tell me you quit drinking.” Stan’s smile got bigger. “Wouldn’t it be something if she took over the store and you went to preaching?”

  Victor laughed. “I haven’t ever felt the call to preach, Stan.”

  “Not yet, but I’ve hear’d of it happening. A man getting the call from the Lord later on in life. Especially a man standing in some need of forgiveness.” Stan looked flustered as he rushed on. “Not to say that you do or anything. At least no more than a lot of the rest of us.”

  “It’s all right, Stan. I guess we all stand in need of forgiveness, and I’m not denying I might more than most.” Victor clapped Stan on the shoulder and smiled. “But if the good Lord wants me to preach, he’s going to have to call loud and clear before I believe it.”

  He left Stan chuckling as he headed home to show Nadine the note. Halfway there, Victor met Kate coming up the road. She didn’t look happy when she stopped in front of him. “Mama needs some things from the store. I told her I didn’t want to go. I don’t want to talk to Grandfather Merritt, but she says I have to.”

  “I guess she told you to forgive him.”

  Kate looked up at Victor a little surprised. “How did you
know?”

  “She told me the same thing. That I had to tell him I forgive him.”

  “Why?” Kate looked puzzled. “Because of Lorena?”

  “That and other things. Your grandfather and I have had our differences.”

  “Oh, so did you have to ask him to forgive you too? Mama says I have to. Even if I don’t think I’ve done anything he needed to forgive me for.” Kate ducked her head and stared down at the gravel on the road. She dug out a little hole with her toes. “But I guess I was sort of disrespectful. Even if I was right.” She looked up at Victor. “Do you think he will? Forgive me if I ask him, I mean.”

  “I think he already has.” Victor held out the note to her to read.

  Her eyes swept over the few words and then flew back up to Victor’s face. “Oregon?”

  “That’s what it says. One of his brothers went out there and settled years ago. Before I was born. Maybe he’s going to visit him.”

  She looked down at the note again. “You think he’ll ever come back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But I didn’t get to say I was sorry.”

  “Me either,” Victor said.

  “I feel bad now.” Kate’s face drooped. “What if Grandfather Merritt thinks I don’t love him? I was mad at him, but I didn’t really stop loving him. He’s my grandfather.”

  “And my father.” Victor wasn’t sure he had that automatic love in his heart the way Kate did, but the man was his father. That surely meant something. He looked at Kate. “Tell you what. We can still tell him. Just say it out loud and maybe the words will follow him down the road.”

  “You mean the way Lorena’s mother told her to say her name so Lorena won’t forget who she really is?”

  “Why not? It seems to work for Lorena.” He put his arm around Kate’s shoulders, and they turned to stare down the road. They were quiet for a moment as if neither of them knew exactly what to say.

  Kate spoke first. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. Please forgive me. And I forgive you.” She put her hand over her heart. “For true.”

  Victor took a deep breath and echoed her words. “I’m sorry, Father. Forgive me. And I forgive you.” Silently he added I forgive you for not loving me. A weight seemed to drop off his shoulders as those words passed through his mind. A weight he’d carried way too long. He’d been wrong to harbor so much resentment for his father’s lack of love. Hadn’t the Lord blessed him with abundant love from Nadine and his girls even when he didn’t always deserve such love?