“I know you’re a mathematician and teach at the community college. But what does that mean exactly?” Isabel asked. “Do you work on math problems all day long?”
“Not quite . . . but almost. I do when I’m working on my research papers. It sounds pretty dull when you put it that way,” he said with a laugh. “There are certain mathematical theories or equations that have yet to be proven. Somebody like me—when I’m not teaching, that is—works on those questions or proofs. Sometimes, only small parts of them. I might study a single equation my whole life and never get close to the answer.”
“You must be very dedicated,” she said, genuinely impressed. “And fascinated by the subject. How do you know the problems even have a solution?”
He smiled. “You don’t. I guess you might say, you have to take it on faith.” His smile widened as he bit into his clam roll. “You’re pretty good, Reverend. Now you’ve got me admitting I might be religious in a way, after all.”
“It’s a start,” she conceded, feeling she had won a round without really intending to.
When their lunch was over, Jacob and Isabel walked back down Main Street and through the village green toward the church.
The harbor was half-frozen, covered with choppy white and blue-gray sheets of ice. A few valiant old fishing boats were still tied to their moorings but locked in the ice at odd angles, and would remain that way until the spring thaw.
“This is a very pretty place,” Isabel remarked. “I’ve been in New England once or twice, but only to Boston. How long have you and Max lived here?”
“About ten years. Max was about to start first grade when I took the teaching position at the college. We were living in Guilford, a small town near New Haven, before that. Guilford is very nice, a lot like this place, in fact. I was just finishing my doctorate down there.”
“New Haven . . . as in Yale?”
“Yes, as in Yale.” He looked a little embarrassed. He was modest, she thought. She liked that, too. Most people would brag about that résumé. “I guess I could have found a position at a bigger university, but my wife’s family is from this area and she wanted to come back. It’s been good for Max to have family ties after she passed away. His grandparents and all my in-laws have been wonderful to us. I’m thankful for that, especially since he’s an only child.”
“It sounds like you’ve made some sacrifices for him.”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe. I was much more ambitious when I was younger. It doesn’t seem so important to me now to be at some big-name college. This place has been very good for him. He needed the stability. When you have children, you have to put them first. That’s just what parents do.”
What some parents do, she thought. He was a good father and had good values.
“Do you have any children, Isabel?” he asked.
“No, I don’t. My husband and I put off starting a family, and I regret that now,” she said honestly. “Though I know that if I did have children, I wouldn’t be able to move from place to place so easily.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” he agreed. “But there are great benefits.”
“I’m sure of that,” she agreed. “Speaking of benefits . . . there’s one waiting for you right now. I think he might even be early,” she said, seeing Max gliding toward them on his board.
“Now there’s a first. I think he’s just hungry. He wants his turkey BLT,” Jacob said, waving the take-out order. “He actually wanted me to get two of these. Can you believe that?”
“Yes, I can. I’ve seen him eat. Though I don’t know where he puts it.” Isabel paused, wondering if she should tell Jacob something Max had mentioned to her. It might spark another intellectual debate, and they were having such a nice time. But she decided she had to at least mention it. She didn’t want Jacob to think she was trying to hide something from him.
“Max told me that he’d like to come to a church service sometime,” she said finally. “Did you know that?”
Jacob turned and looked at her. They were walking side by side. She was tall, but he was taller. Just the right amount, she thought. The light wind lifted his thick hair, and his expression seemed confused. Was he angry at her? She thought for a moment he might be.
“I didn’t know that. He hasn’t said a word to me about it. When did he mention it? In what context, I mean?”
Now he sounded lawyerly—or suspicious. Perhaps he thought she was trying to brainwash his son, lure him into church as if it were some type of cult. Many people thought that way. She was used to it. She didn’t take it personally.
“Please don’t worry. No one has tried to persuade him to come or even mentioned it to him. I was as surprised as you are,” she said honestly. “I think he’s just curious about what goes on in the sanctuary. He’s been cleaning it and working on it all this time.”
“That’s possible.” Jacob looked calmer, but still sounded suspicious. “Max’s mother took him to church when he was younger. But he hasn’t gone since she died and never expressed any interest in going,” he said pointedly.
Isabel shrugged. “I don’t even know if he will come. He just said he might. I guess you should ask him how this came about.”
“I will.”
Isabel smiled gently. She had a feeling this would be the very first topic they covered during the trip home. She wondered what Max would say. She hoped he wouldn’t be mad at her for telling his father that he wanted to come to church. But now she wondered if she’d betrayed a confidence of some kind. She hoped not.
“What took you guys so long? I’m starving.” Max grabbed the bag of food and opened it, foraging for his sandwich.
“You could have come with us and eaten sooner,” his father reminded him.
“Yeah, yeah. Choices and consequences. It’s the same old story,” Max replied in a singsong voice as he pulled some fries from the bag and stuffed them in his mouth. He grinned at Isabel and she grinned back. He already had some ketchup on his chin, but he looked cute, she thought.
Though Isabel felt bad that Max had been waiting here with hunger pangs, she’d enjoyed her time alone with Jacob. It would have been fun to go out with both of them, but she doubted that Jacob would have spoken so openly. Or that she would have, either.
“Thanks so much for lunch,” she said to Jacob. “I enjoyed the clam roll and our talk very much.”
“I did, too, Isabel. I hope I wasn’t too . . . argumentative.”
“Not at all. I liked our debate most of all.”
“To be continued then,” he said, smiling at her.
“Anytime,” she replied.
When they finally parted and Isabel went back inside the church, she wondered what he’d meant. That they would resume their discussion about the existence of God sometime? Or he would ask to see her?
As committed as you are to spreading the good news and defending your faith, I think that you’re actually hoping for the latter, she told herself.
Yes . . . I am. I actually . . . like him.
The realization took her by surprise. She had been alone now for nearly five years, and in that time had met only a few men she enjoyed spending time with, mostly as friends. But for some reason, Jacob reminded her of what it was like to feel real chemistry, the kind she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
Wasn’t that ironic? Isabel almost laughed out loud at herself. How awkward . . . and how unlikely a match they would be.
But as she’d just told Jacob, God has a great sense of humor. Here was even more proof.
ON WEDNESDAY NIGHT, REGINA WORKED AT ANOTHER ONE OF MOLLY’S parties. When she got home, everyone else in the house was asleep. The only light came from a small lamp in the living room and the Christmas tree. She dropped into a chair, not even bothering to take off her jacket. It had been quite a day.
The weather had started off on the warm side, so she’d skipped her heavy wool coat, but now it was cold out again and she felt chilled and tired.
She leaned back and slipped off h
er shoes. She was relieved that no one was awake. She was actually too tired to talk. She needed some downtime, alone. But part of her wished that Richard was up. She wanted to tell him that Dr. Harding had offered her the receptionist job in his office full-time. “You’ve been such a great help here, Regina. We’d be crazy to hire anyone else,” he’d said.
Regina had been thrilled at the news, which came with a small raise. But not large enough for her to skip the catering. Besides, she had promised Molly that she would work through Christmas. It would be a tough schedule. After working at the doctor’s office all day and then the party all night, she was flat-out exhausted. Still, it had been worth it. At the end of the party, the hostess had given everyone small white envelopes that contained huge tips. Regina had checked the amount in the car and couldn’t quite believe it. She had tucked the envelope in her jacket pocket. Now she patted the spot to make sure it was still there.
It was still there . . . along with something else. She reached in and pulled out the little Bible wrapped in plastic that she and Madeline had found in the garage. She hadn’t worn this jacket in a while and had forgotten all about it.
Curious, she took it out, carefully unwrapped it, and opened the brown leather cover. The paper was dry and fragile, but it had been well preserved. On the first pages she saw a family tree, written in an old-fashioned hand, the letters elaborate and swirling: Jonas Porter and Elizabeth Fairchild. They had five children—two boys and three girls, but one of the boys had died as an infant and one of the girls as a teenager.
Of the other children, marriages and births had been recorded. Regina peered at the book in the dim light to make out the many names. The writing was small in order to fit on the page.
Fascinating, she thought. She had never really read the Bible, but like most people was familiar with a few passages. She carefully turned the pages, stopping at random. The book opened to the New Testament, Corinthians. She glanced at the page. The language was so formal, she could barely understand it. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind . . . is not easily provoked . . . Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”
Charity. That meant love. Regina knew those verses, though not in that sort of language: “Love is patient, love is kind. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
She sighed and closed the little Bible, clasping it in her hands. That’s what love is, she thought. Did she still love Richard? She knew that deep inside, she did. Had she been patient with and kind to him? Had she shown him all those other qualities?
Well, some of the time. She had tried at first. But not lately. She had to admit that, even to herself. But she did love him. There was no question. Maybe if she had been kinder, more patient, more hopeful, their marriage would not have unraveled this way, she thought.
Sometimes she blamed it all on him. Not their financial problems, but the problems in their relationship. That wasn’t fair, she knew. It took two. She wasn’t blameless, not in the least. Was it too late to change, to be any of those wonderful things—patient, kind, someone who hopes and believes? She felt so tired, she just didn’t know.
All of a sudden, Richard was standing next to her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Gina?”
She opened her eyes with a start. “Richard . . . you scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” He stepped back. “I didn’t even know you were home. How long have you been down here?”
She blinked. “I don’t know. What time is it?”
“A little past one,” he said, looking at his watch.
“I thought I was just sitting here a minute, unwinding. Guess I fell asleep.”
“I guess you did. What’s that? Were you reading?”
“Not really. It’s just that little Bible I found in the garage.” She showed him the book. “I told you about it, remember?”
Richard gave it a quick glance. “There are a ton of old books around this place. I threw out a few boxes that were full of dust and mold. I hope reading that one doesn’t give you a headache.”
“The printing is a little blurred, but it’s in good condition. Someone wrapped it up in plastic. I found all these names in the front. I think they must be my ancestors.” She put the little Bible on the side table and looked back up at him. “How were the kids? Were they good for you?”
“No problems. They did all their homework and went to bed without a fuss. I made their lunches for tomorrow, too.”
The lunches . . . Good thing. She had totally forgotten.
“How was the party?” he asked curiously.
“Big. About a hundred people. In one of those big Victorians on Providence Street; a mansion, really. I got a big tip. That part was fun.”
“I’m sure you deserved it. But I’m not so sure about this extra work, Regina. I can handle the kids all right—it’s not that,” he said quickly. “I just think it’s too much for you. You’re working so hard. I don’t want you to get overtired and sick.”
Regina was surprised. Lately, she didn’t think he thought that much about her. But he did seem concerned and caring, which was touching. She had the impulse to reach out and take his hand. But at the last minute, she held herself back.
“Don’t worry. I’m okay. It won’t be forever. I told Molly just until Christmas, and that’s only a week away,” she reminded him.
He still looked concerned, but didn’t argue.
“I’m excited to go shopping for the kids’ gifts now. I was sort of dreading it before,” she confessed.
“So was I,” he admitted. “But they don’t seem to want very much.”
“No, I think they were afraid to ask for too much,” she said honestly. “Especially Madeline. I think we should give her some nice surprises if we can.”
“She’s a good kid. She’s been a trooper. She’s had it the worst, I think, because of her age. Brian really doesn’t understand or have the sort of social pressure that Madeline goes through,” he said quietly.
“Exactly,” Regina agreed, glad that Richard understood.
“When should we do the shopping?” he asked. “It’s getting a little close, don’t you think?”
Regina was surprised to hear him say that. Most men she knew thought nothing of starting on Christmas Eve.
“I thought we could go Sunday afternoon. I’m scheduled to work at a brunch. It’s over at three,” Regina said.
“That sounds fine. What about the kids? Can they stay alone all that time?”
“They’ve been staying on their own after school,” Regina pointed out, “though they’re rarely alone for that long. Still, Madeline’s very responsible. I think she can watch Brian for a few hours. Let’s just see how it goes.”
That was one of Regina’s favorite sayings, and it sometimes drove Richard crazy, since he was the exact opposite. He wanted to know specifics, not wing it. But tonight he just stared down at her and shook his head, a small smile on his face that was hard to decipher.
“Okay, Regina. We’ll see how it goes,” he teased her. “Now come on upstairs, before you fall asleep in that chair again.”
Regina laughed. “Okay . . . just help me up. I’m so tired, I can’t move.” Regina extended her hand, and he gently tugged her out of the chair. When she finally stood up, she kept going and put her arms around him. She gave him a hug, and she could tell he was startled. He hugged her back, gently at first, then all of a sudden tighter and closer. He held her in a sweet, tender way, dipping his head down to touch his cheek to her hair.
Regina was so surprised, she couldn’t even respond for a moment. Before she could say or do anything, he seemed to feel self-conscious or awkward about his sudden expression of emotion, and he slipped from her arms.
“I’d better unplug the lights and check the doors again. You go up.”
Regina nodded and headed for the stairs. She wished he hadn’t pulled away so quickly. But she felt things were getting better between them, little by little.
Maybe, though, it was just the Christmas spirit making them feel more tender toward each other.
Christmas would soon come and go. Then they would know what the future held for their family.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON SUNDAY MORNING, CAROLYN WAS THE FIRST TO WAKE AND GET out of bed. Ben saw her standing by the window, looking out at the backyard.
“Snow again,” she said quietly.
“I heard there might be some flurries overnight. How much is it?”
“An inch or two.”
Just like the morning you had the heart attack, he could tell she wanted to say. He was thinking the same thing. They were so often of the same mind now, it was uncanny.
She turned to him. “Still want to go to church?”
“Yes, I do.” He sat up and pushed the covers aside in one swift, decisive move. Sudden movements still caused an ache here and there, but he was healing and the physical therapy had led him into a whole new world . . . or maybe a world that he had left behind in his thirties or forties. He was walking and even jogging a little on a treadmill, working out with weights, too. Growing muscles again, like a young man. The body was amazingly regenerative. What a divine invention.
“Do you know what today is?” she asked as he put on his robe and slippers.
“The fourth Sunday of Advent?”
“Besides that. It’s been three weeks since the heart attack.”
“Oh, right. But who’s counting?” He glanced at her, and they both smiled. “It seems like it was a long time ago, but in a way, it could have been yesterday. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. It’s changed our whole lives.” She paused. “It’s going to be . . . different for you at church today. I’m sure you’ve already thought about that, Ben. It’s just that . . . don’t you think it might be hard?”
“It will be, in some ways. In other ways, it will be a relief, I think, to just relax and enjoy the service.” He reached out and patted her shoulder. “I know you’re concerned about me, honey, but you can’t anticipate all my worries and fix everything. You can’t be a little airbag between me and the world, Carolyn, puffing up at the first sign of possible impact. I am recovering, nearly completely healed. I’m not fragile or in any danger at all,” he promised her.
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