Home Song

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Well, I’m sorry. I was curious, I guess. The next time someone like that calls, I’ll just say ‘No, thank you’ and hang up. Does that make you feel any better?”

  “Why should you hang up? Maybe you are really interested in these opportunities. If I hadn’t walked into the room right then, who knows what would have happened?”

  “Oh, come on, Sam. . . .” Jessica took a step toward him. “We’ve been all through this. You know that’s not true.”

  “I’m not so sure,” he admitted with a shrug. “Maybe you would rather be back in the city, with all the big salaries and big opportunities. Maybe your mother is right. Maybe I am keeping you down by making you my wife—”

  “Come on, Sam. Stop it. Stop it right now,” Jessica snapped. She stared at him, not quite believing she had spoken to him in such an angry tone.

  He was feeling insecure. Why hadn’t she seen that before? Probably because he always seemed so centered and secure. This was so unlike him, she thought. For some reason the phone call had really set him off.

  “You know that my career is not my priority right now. My priority is you,” she added in a far quieter voice. “The life we’re planning here, together.”

  “And you don’t care what your mother thinks? You don’t care that she wouldn’t speak to us again yesterday in church? You don’t care that she doesn’t want to come to our wedding?”

  “What has my mother got to do with a Boston headhunter?” Jessica asked, mystified.

  “Just answer the question,” Sam said tensely. “Your mother’s disapproval matters to you, doesn’t it? You’re thinking about it and worrying about it all the time.”

  “Well, what do you expect? She’s my mother, isn’t she?” Jessica felt a hot stab of frustration rising inside her. “Why are you acting this way?”

  “You feel—torn?”

  “Yes, in a way,” she admitted. “I want to marry you, Sam. More than anything. But can’t you see how hard it is for me, dealing with my mother like this?” She pulled off her jacket and tossed it on the couch. “She’s the only parent I’ve got, and she’s so unbelievably stubborn. She won’t listen to anybody, not even Reverend Ben. She’s always sure she’s right and the rest of the world is wrong.”

  “I don’t like hearing that you’re torn between me and your mother, Jessica. I don’t think that’s a match I can ever really win,” Sam admitted slowly. He walked to the window and turned his back to her as he spoke. “Is that what’s happening?”

  “Choosing her over you? Of course not!” She took a few steps toward him, fighting the urge to put her arms around him. She loved him so much; it hurt to feel this anger between them. Still, she couldn’t help feeling he was being unfair. When he didn’t speak, she said, “I’m sorry, I think you’re just feeling insecure for some reason, and having all these . . . doubts about me. What did I do to make you feel this way?”

  “Me? Don’t put this all on me. I’m not having doubts,” he said, suddenly turning to face her. “You just admitted to me that you felt torn. That’s what I’d call having doubts.”

  Jessica felt as if she had the wind knocked out of her. She could hardly believe what he was saying. “Wait just a minute. I never said I had any question at all in my mind about marrying you, Sam. I said I felt pressure from my mother. It’s completely different. And you are not listening to a word I’m saying. Why can’t you just stop a minute and try to understand?”

  “Look, all I understand is this. You’re not ready, Jessica. You think you’re ready to marry me, but you’re not. And I’m not going to keep acting as if nothing is wrong, when I just heard five minutes ago that you have doubts about marrying me.”

  “That is not what I said!” Jessica was trying not to shout. “It sounds to me as if you’re the one who’s absorbing all my mother’s negativity. You’re the one who’s getting all insecure and having all these doubts about me.”

  Tears blurred her vision, and she covered her face with her hands. She felt Sam touch her shoulder, but she angrily shook him off and walked to her desk to grab a tissue.

  Sam followed her a step or two, then turned and sat down heavily on the couch.

  “So . . . what do you want to do, call off the wedding?” she challenged him.

  “I didn’t say that, did I?”

  “That’s what you implied,” she pointed out in a stiff, formal voice. Inside, she felt her heart about to break in two. But she would cry later, she decided. After he went home.

  Sam took a deep breath, then said, “I think we should postpone our plans. Just give it a little more time. Until you’re really sure.”

  She met his glance, then looked away. “We’ll lose our date at the inn and at the church, too, probably.”

  “So, we’ll get another one,” he replied.

  He really means it, she thought. She couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

  “All right . . . if that’s what you want, then we’ll postpone it,” she forced herself to say.

  “It’s not just me, Jessica. Be honest with yourself. It’s what you want, too.”

  Was it? She wouldn’t have said so half an hour ago, but now that it had happened, she felt oddly relieved. She would have more time to work on her mother, and that was important to her, however painful it was for Sam to hear—and for her to admit.

  Elsie jumped on the desk and Jessica stroked the cat, not really noticing what she was doing.

  “Three months was not really long enough to plan a wedding anyway,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “And this way you’ll have more time to finish the house.”

  Sam rose from the couch and picked up his jacket. “Yes, I will. I want us to be married, and I want you to be sure that’s what you want, too. But don’t make me wait too long, Jessica.”

  He was standing very close and she wanted to touch him. She wanted him to take her into his arms and tell her not to worry, that everything was going to be all right.

  But maybe that was not how he felt at all, she realized. And she didn’t know what to do or say now.

  “I guess it’s too late to go out to the house.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” he agreed. “I think I’ll just head home now. I’ll drop that furniture off at the house tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I love you, Sam,” she added, catching his dark gaze. “You know that by now, don’t you?”

  “Sure . . . I know.”

  Jessica felt awful. She wasn’t going to lose him, was she? Would they go through with this wedding—or not?

  Finally he kissed her quickly on the cheek, then walked out the door.

  SAM HAD ONLY BEEN GONE TEN MINUTES, AND HER APARTMENT SEEMED achingly empty. Jessica paced from room to room. She turned on the television, then shut it off again. She went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and stared inside. It was past dinnertime, but she had no appetite.

  She sat at the kitchen table and started crying again. What had happened? What was going on? She and Sam loved each other so much. How could this happen?

  The phone rang and she ran over to pick up, sure that it was Sam, calling to apologize and say that he’d change his mind.

  “Hello?” Her voice croaked and she blew her nose on a tissue.

  “Jessica? Are you okay?” It was Emily.

  Jessica took a deep, shaky breath before answering. “Not really. Actually, I’m terrible,” she admitted.

  “What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

  “Sam and I had a fight. Well, not a fight really . . . a talk, I guess you’d call it.” She could hardly say what she had to next, but forced herself. “We’ve decided to postpone the wedding.”

  “Postpone the wedding?” Emily sounded so alarmed that Jessica felt her spirits sink, thinking the worst all over again. “Listen, I’m still at the office. Want to meet at the Beanery in, say, ten minutes?”

  “That would be great.” Jessica knew she needed to talk to someone. Emily was a godsend. “I’
ll see you there.”

  Jessica splashed her face with cold water and put on some lipstick. She hardly glanced at her reflection, feeling as if she looked totally terrible. What’s the difference? she thought, heading out the door.

  It was a short walk from her apartment to the center of the village, but the brisk night air helped clear her head and calm her emotions.

  Emily was waiting at a table near the front door and waved to her when she came in. “Hey, how are you?” Emily asked, standing up and giving Jessica a hug.

  “Sort of terrible,” Jessica admitted. “But I’m really glad you called.” She sat down and sighed.

  Emily patted her arm reassuringly, then ordered two cappuccinos for them. “What happened? What did you fight about?”

  Jessica felt her throat get tight and thought she was going to cry for a moment. Then she swallowed her tears and forced herself to reply. “We were just about to go out to the house, and Sam overheard this phone call, a job offer in Boston. I don’t know why, but it really pushed his buttons. He got all worried that I’m having doubts about marrying him.” Jessica shook her head. “I kept telling him I don’t have doubts, but he wouldn’t even listen to me.”

  Emily bit down on her lower lip. “Did he mention Mother?”

  “That was part of it. He’s the one who brought it up first, and that was when things got really bad.” Jessica shook her head. “I mean, she’s my mother. Of course I care what she thinks and want her at my wedding. Why can’t he just understand that?”

  “Goodness, that does sound bad.” Emily sat back and ran her hands through her short hair, a gesture she used when she was nervous, Jessica knew. “What happened after that?” she asked.

  Jessica winced and told her how they wound up postponing the wedding. “I think he’s the one who’s having doubts,” she concluded. She stared into her cup, her face a mask of disbelief. “Sam acts like I have to choose—either him or Mother.”

  Emily didn’t say anything for a long moment. “In a way, Sam is right. You do have to choose,” she said finally. “He didn’t make those rules. Mother did.”

  Jessica felt her heart fall to her knees. “You don’t think she’ll change her mind?”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. I spoke to Reverend Ben yesterday. He said he talked to her, but he didn’t get very far.”

  “Yes, I know. He told me the same thing,” Jessica replied with a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what to say. It all seemed so hopeless.

  “I know it’s hard for you to be fighting with Mother right now,” Emily said. “I know you wish she could be with you and be part of the wedding plans. But you can’t let her poison your happiness, Jessica. Can’t you see what Mother is doing? Divide and conquer, that’s her strategy. And by postponing the wedding, you and Sam are playing right into her hands.”

  “We are, aren’t we?” She looked up at her sister. “I’m afraid Sam doesn’t want to marry me anymore,” she added in a shaky voice.

  “Nonsense . . . he adores you. The man is absolutely crazy about you.” Emily clasped her sister’s hand. “You have to go and patch this up with him. Try to figure it out together. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Believe me,” she added in a quiet tone.

  Jessica knew her sister was thinking about her own life, both the sweet and the bitter: the great happiness she stole, defying both their parents, when she eloped with Tim Sutton; and the chance she missed to raise her child by bending to their mother’s iron will.

  “I do believe you,” Jessica said finally. “I’m just not sure I know what to do.”

  Emily was about to reply when Felicity Bean approached their table. Despite the low lights of the café, Felicity was unmistakable, her small, slim figure, supple and quick, matching her quick wit and bright laughter. Her long black skirt and loose, brickred top complemented her silver gray hair and looked very smart, even with the Beanery black apron on top.

  “Hello, ladies. How nice to see you both,” Felicity greeted them. “I was hoping to run into you, Emily,” she added. “Jonathan and I were wondering how we could get some of your campaign signs. We’d like to put up a few in here.”

  “That would be great.” Emily flipped open her Day-Timer and made a note. “I’ll have someone drop some off tomorrow. And thanks. Most businesses understandably don’t want to take sides.”

  “We think you’re doing a great job. We’ll proudly show our support,” Felicity said.

  She had a certain intensity when she spoke, energy that carried over with each word and flashed in her dark eyes. Jessica could see her sister and Felicity becoming friends—if poor Emily ever had the time to develop a new friendship, which seemed doubtful if she were reelected.

  Jessica and Emily ordered refills on their cappuccinos. “And let’s get a really gooey dessert,” Emily suggested. “I’m on a diet, but this counts as an emergency.”

  “It’s got to be chocolate, nothing less,” Jessica agreed. “And you absolutely don’t need to diet.”

  “Yes, I do, but sorbet just won’t cut it tonight.”

  “Speaking of pastry . . . here comes my almost sister-in-law,” Jessica murmured as Molly Willoughby entered. “Do I have to tell her what happened with Sam?” she asked in a hurried whisper.

  “She’s going to find out sooner or later,” Emily pointed out, casting her a sympathetic expression. “You might as well give her your own version. Besides, she’s been pretty nice to you lately.”

  “Yes, she has,” Jessica agreed as Molly spotted her and quickly walked toward them.

  “Hi, Molly. What’s up?” Jessica forced her voice to sound normal, but thought that she didn’t quite succeed.

  “Nothing much. How are you?” Molly stood next to the table and looked them over with curiosity. “Taking a night off from working on the house?”

  “Sort of,” Jessica said.

  “Planning a wedding is a ton of work. You need a night off once in a while,” Molly said sympathetically. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that dress you picked out for the girls. I don’t mean to bug you, but it’s just not working out.”

  “Really? What’s wrong?” Jessica had spent days finding those dresses and thought they would be perfect for her junior bridesmaids.

  “Well, the medium is way too tight around Lauren’s chest, and the large swims on her. And Jill needs hers altered, too, to the point of why even bother? And besides all that,” Molly concluded, “the woman in the store says she might not even get to them in time.”

  “That’s too bad.” Jessica took a long bracing sip of her cappuccino. “But it looks like we’ll have more time than we thought. Maybe I can find another dress for them,” she said, not knowing how much more to add.

  “More time? What do you mean? The wedding is November nineteenth. Did I get the date wrong or something?” Molly looked confused and curious.

  Jessica glanced quickly at Emily, who gave her a small, encouraging nod.

  “Sam and I . . . well, we were talking and decided to postpone the wedding,” Jessica admitted in a rush.

  “Postpone it? Until when?” Molly asked.

  “Well, we’re not sure yet. We just need more time.”

  Molly was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “Gee, that’s too bad,” she said finally.

  Jessica didn’t know what to say. Molly’s sympathetic tone made her feel awful all over again. If Molly felt sorry for her, it really must be bad, she thought. But before Molly could go any further, Emily jumped in.

  “Oh, it’s not so bad,” Emily said evenly. “Prewedding jitters. This sort of thing happens all the time. They’re trying to do too much at once, I think. But they’ll work it out.”

  Emily’s calm assessment made Molly look less alarmed. Though her gaze still held a questioning look, Jessica noticed, as if she sensed there was more to this story.

  “Well, sounds like you have a little time to work on those dresses, then,” Molly said. She took out her car
keys and hitched her handbag strap over her shoulder. “Listen, ditch mine, too, while you’re at it. To tell you the truth, it makes me look like a green satin minivan.”

  Jessica sensed Emily trying not to laugh and avoided meeting her sister’s gaze. “No problem. I’ll start from scratch,” Jessica promised. Molly departed with a small wave.

  Jessica shook her head as she watched Molly hurry toward her car. “I’ll give her twenty minutes to broadcast the news to the entire planet.”

  “I’d give her fifteen.” Emily’s blue eyes sparkled. “Don’t worry. You were great, and at least you got it over with.”

  “Me? I hardly said a word. You’re the one who smoothed it over,” Jessica said gratefully.

  “Oh, don’t be silly. She’s just wondering what really happened. Now we both deserve our treat.” She slipped on her reading glasses and picked up the dessert menu. “Say what you want about Molly, but she makes a mean chocolate layer cake.”

  “Yes, she’s a terrific cook,” Jessica admitted. “It seems to run in the Morgan genes.”

  “And she did have a point about those bridesmaids’ dresses,” Emily said. She looked over the menu and grinned at Jessica. “Actually, that was something I’ve been meaning to mention to you myself.”

  “If you say so, too, I guess I will look for new ones.” Jessica put her chin in her hand and sighed. “If there’s even going to be a wedding now . . .”

  “Of course there will be a wedding,” Emily assured her. “I’ll help you find the dresses and flowers and whatever else you need. All you have to do is patch things up with Sam.”

  Jessica met her sister’s steady gaze. “Yes, I know that, Emily. I will,” she promised quietly.

  Emily sat there for a moment, then said, “I’ll remember you in my prayers tonight. I know it looks bleak right now, but don’t underestimate the Lord. He can help you work out things with Sam and even find the perfect bridesmaids’ dresses.”

  “That would be a miracle,” Jessica managed with a small smile.

  Emily was right. Her courage was failing—and so was her faith. She had to hand this over to God and ask Him for help. What was it the Psalms said? “Commit thy way unto the Lord . . . and he shall bring it to pass.”