A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  “We didn’t need to go gallivanting around, honey. This was our world. God gave us plenty. As near to perfect as it gets, if you ask me. I couldn’t ask for more.”

  “Me, neither,” Sophie agreed. Born on the orchard, she had been living here so long, she sometimes imagined she would wake one morning to find roots sprouting out of her toes, like one of the apple trees. She often thought people must pity her, thinking she never did much with her life. But she knew in her heart she’d had a rich life—full of hard work and challenges, joys and sorrows.

  If she died tonight, her spirit would leave this earth with a feeling of satisfaction; she had peace in her heart at a job well done. She glanced at Gus, his once strong profile worn down by sickness and age. But in his gaze there was a peaceful light, as peaceful as a calm blue summer sky. He feels the same, she realized. He’s not afraid of dying.

  “I’ve had a good life with you, Gus. You’re a wonderful husband and father. My best friend and the love of my life. . . .” Sophie felt her throat tightening, and she paused to take a breath. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I don’t know how to keep going without you.”

  “Hush now, sweetheart. None of that.” Gus leaned over and put his arm around her shoulders. “I was the lucky one. Everyone knows that. I didn’t know up from down until I met you. You gave me children, this orchard, the kind of life a man could be proud of. You didn’t even want me at first, remember?” he teased her.

  “Oh, it wasn’t like that. I liked you right away. I just couldn’t see what you wanted with me. I’d been thrown over. I was practically a spinster.”

  Sophie’s first love had left her at the altar, a public humiliation she had somehow survived. With her failed wedding day and the scarcity of eligible men after the war, she had lost all hope of finding another who would want to marry her.

  “Prettiest spinster I ever saw.” Gus laughed softly and shook his head. “I’ll never forget that day your brother brought me here. I came to ask for a job and saw you, up in a tree, your arms full of apples. I felt my heart just jump out of my chest, I swear it.”

  He rested his hand on his heart and smiled. Sophie smiled too, remembering. Gus and her younger brother, Fred, had just come home from the army and neither had jobs. Tall and lean with a head of black wavy hair, Gus looked liked a movie star standing there in the dappled sunlight. She nearly fell right off the ladder the first time he spoke her name.

  “You proposed pretty quickly, that’s for sure. My brother said you were just after my property,” she reminded him. “Tell the truth. It can’t make any difference now. Was that your intention?”

  Gus laughed and hugged her. “Yup, a gigolo. That’s what I was. But you reformed me. A man needs a woman to improve himself, you know.”

  “I did reform you . . . almost.” She sighed. “That feels like it was yesterday, doesn’t it? Where did the years go?”

  “They flew by. Season to season. Around and around we went. It felt like it would never end. Spring will be here before you know it. The trees will green up and the blossoms will come.”

  Sophie nodded, staring out at the orchard with him. She could almost hear that low hum of the bees right now and smell the moist earth coming alive again. Even the snow flakes clinging to the branches started to look like white blossoms.

  “Every one will get to work again. Even your bees.” Gus’s voice held an optimistic note as always.

  But they both knew he would not be out in the orchard working this spring. He would be gone by then. Long gone from my side, Sophie thought.

  Her vision of spring suddenly melted before her eyes, and she began to cry. Gus patted her shoulder.

  “There, there, sweetheart. I’m not going so far. It will be as if I’m sitting right here on the back porch, watching you.”

  Harder than that for her, Sophie thought. But she didn’t disagree. There was a heaven, Sophie felt sure. And she was just as sure that Gus would be up there.

  But where would she be? Away from the orchard by then, probably, if their children had a say in the matter.

  “The kids don’t think I should stay without you. Evelyn and Una had a little talk with me while you were in the hospital. Bart called and said the same thing, too.”

  “What do you want to do?” he asked her softly.

  “They make some sense; I’m not saying they don’t. Still, I can’t imagine leaving here. I know it won’t be the same without you. I might just hate it. But I was here on my own when we met, and I think I can do it again. I’d like to try, at least.”

  Gus didn’t answer for a moment. He sat staring straight out at the trees and the low falling snow.

  “I hate to think that my dying will force you off, Sophie. After all the times we struggled to hang on to this place when it wasn’t easy. But I guess I’m worried about you, too. I don’t like the idea of you out here all alone. We’re not young anymore.”

  “Oh, let’s not talk about that now. Worrying is a waste of time. It says so right in the Bible,” she reminded him. “The Lord doesn’t want us to worry. He’ll show me the right thing to do, I’m sure of it.”

  “I know He will. I just love you so much. And I promised I’d always take care of you.” He wiped his gloved hand across his eyes, which were glassy with unshed tears.

  Tears started trickling down Sophie’s cheeks again. She couldn’t help herself. She leaned over and wound her arm through his and put her head on Gus’s shoulder.

  “We’ll be all right,” she said finally. “He’ll take care of us both.”

  “MOM, HOW DO YOU SPELLHORRENDOUS?” JILL SAT AT THE KITCHEN table doing her homework, while Molly stood at the counter, chopping a pile of parsley. She paused, thinking, then shook her head.

  “I’m not sure. You need to look it up in the dictionary. There’s one right on your desk in your room.”

  “Never mind. I’ll just say, ‘It was really horrible.’ ”

  Molly wanted her to get into the habit of using a dictionary, but she didn’t push it. Jill was hurrying to finish her homework before Phil came by. He was due to pick up the girls at six, but Molly felt sure that with the snow he’d be late. He hadn’t called to cancel, though, which was a surprise. In the past Phil had always grabbed the slightest excuse to postpone his visits.

  Lauren didn’t seem to remember that Phil was coming tonight, Molly noticed. But she was distracted by an unexpected visit with Amanda. Matthew had called in the afternoon from Southport and asked if Molly could pick up Amanda after chorus practice since he didn’t think he’d get home in time with the snow.

  Molly didn’t mind helping him out. She had to pick up Lauren anyway. He was also due to arrive shortly, and she felt undeniably nervous about seeing him again—and at the prospect of his visit overlapping with Phil’s, though she didn’t know why that should matter. Maybe because Phil brought out such a shrewish side of her personality? One she didn’t want Matthew to see, that was for sure.

  The sound of giggling came from the bedroom where Lauren and Amanda were holed up, supposedly doing homework. Well, that’s how it was at that age. Somehow the homework got done.

  Molly forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She had an important appointment tomorrow at the Beanery and was making several special dishes for the café owners, Jonathan and Felicity Bean, to sample. On Monday, when she had dropped off their order of quiches, they told her that they planned to expand their menu and asked if she could supply more lunch and dinner dishes. The order was potentially humongous, as Jill might say, and Molly felt both excited and nervous at the prospect. So nervous that she had only told Betty about the appointment.

  Molly didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she had already done some rough calculations, and if things worked out, she might finally be able to quit her cleaning clients to cook full-time.

  Don’t count your cupcakes until they rise, she reminded herself with a grin. But it was sure hard not to. Molly stirred a pot of seven-bean chili
, a vegetarian entrée, and then checked the trays of beef empanadas and chicken pot pies that were baking in the oven.

  Still feeling anxious, she went into the living room and glanced out the windows that overlooked Main Street. The snow was piling up out there. The forecast had predicted only flurries, but this was something more. Molly sighed. She had had enough snow this winter. When would it end? It was already the first week of March. She hoped this latest addition would melt quickly.

  An SUV-style truck slowed down and parked across the street. It was Matthew’s Land Rover. She watched him get out and head for the door to her building. Molly spun around and quickly surveyed the room. She found a pair of slippers, an empty glass, and a magazine on the floor. She dumped the glass in the sink and brought the rest to her bedroom. She quickly checked her appearance in the mirror, pulling off her apron and adding a dash of lipstick from the tube on her dresser.

  She paused and took a deep breath. She was getting too nervous. Exactly what she didn’t want to do. She would act relaxed and friendly to him, but she didn’t want to seem too interested. After all, Matthew clearly wasn’t interested in her. He hadn’t called during the past week, and he’d had the perfect excuse as she’d left her cleaning bucket at his house. But Fran Tulley had called to say he had dropped off the bucket along with an extra check at Betty’s office. To Molly, his leaving the things with Betty was an obvious message: He didn’t want to get involved.

  She knocked on Lauren’s door before heading back to the kitchen. “Lauren, Amanda . . . time to come out. Amanda’s father is here to pick her up.”

  In the kitchen Jill looked up from her homework. “Is Daddy here?”

  Molly shook her head as the doorbell rang. “It’s Dr. Harding.”

  Then she turned and pulled open the door. Matthew smiled at her. His cheeks were red from the cold and his dark eyes were bright. Flecks of snow clung to his hair and coated his shoulders.

  “Come on in,” Molly greeted him. “You must be freezing.”

  “I’m all right. I’m used to the cold.” He took off his gloves and rubbed his hands together. “Hello, Jill. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Just doing homework. Do you know how to spell cataclysmic?”

  “Hmm, that’s a good one. I’m not really sure.” He glanced at Molly with a helpless—and totally charming—smile. “Why don’t you try the dictionary?”

  “That’s okay. I’ll just say, ‘It was really horrible.’ ”

  “Right. And if you don’t go into your room and get the dictionary, your grade on that story is going to be really ‘horrible,’ ” Molly warned her.

  “Okay, okay. I’m going.” Jill sighed theatrically and picked up her notebook.

  “Don’t mind her.” Molly turned to check the chili. “She gets a little cranky when she’s hungry.”

  “Don’t we all. Low blood sugar,” Matthew explained. “Gee, something sure smells good in here. What are you cooking?”

  “Well, let’s see . . . we have some vegetarian chili up here.” Molly gestured at the pot. “Some chicken and mushrooms crepes in this pan, and beef empanadas and chicken pot pies in the oven.” She pulled open the door and took a peek. “Oh, and some string beans to make sure there’s something green.”

  Matthew stared at her wide-eyed, looking as if he wanted to laugh, but he wasn’t sure if he should or not. “Quite a menu. Are you expecting company?”

  “I have sort of an audition tomorrow. At the Beanery. They’re expanding their lunch and dinner menus and asked me to bring some samples for new orders.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, everything smells so good, I can’t see how you could miss.”

  “Thanks.” Molly smiled at him and lowered the heat on the oven. His expression peaked with interest, but he didn’t say more. An awkward silence hung between them.

  I’m sure I’ll live to regret this, but what the heck, she thought glancing back at him.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner? There’s plenty here.”

  “Oh, no. We couldn’t put you out like that. I wasn’t hinting at an invitation,” he added with a self-conscious grin.

  “It’s okay. I was going to ask you anyway. I need some more taste testers.” That wasn’t exactly true. But she was trying to make him welcome. “I can’t trust anything the kids say unless the recipe involves pizza, peanut butter, or chocolate.”

  Matthew laughed. “Yes, the three major food groups as far as Amanda is concerned, too.” He met her gaze again. “I’d be honored to be a taste tester. But I really don’t want to impose on you, Molly.”

  “It’s no trouble. You’d be doing me a favor, honestly,” Molly insisted.

  So much for her plan to act disinterested and not put herself out. But he looked hungry, and she really could use another adult opinion.

  Oh, who was she kidding? She liked the guy. More than she wanted, and here she was giving in to that feeling after promising herself that she wouldn’t.

  But Lauren and Amanda seemed to have hit it off so grandly, Molly thought. Whether she wanted to or not, she would be seeing a lot of Matthew Harding. It was probably smart to try to work out a friendly relationship. Even if it never amounted to more than that.

  “Well, okay then.” He sounded doubtful but was smiling. “I’d love to.”

  “Great.” Molly glanced at the clock. “My ex-husband is coming at six to see the girls. I guess we’d better sit down right away.”

  “No problem, I’m starved. What can I do to help you?”

  Matthew washed up, then set the table. Five was a tight fit in Molly’s small kitchen, but it would work out all right, she decided. The Hardings weren’t going to stay that long.

  While Matthew rounded up the girls, Molly set the bowls and platters of the various dishes on the table, along with a green salad and a basket of hot cheese biscuits she had baked to go with the chili. She had taken a course in food presentation and tried to add a professional finishing touch, sprinkling finely chopped herbs on the platter rim.

  She was pleased with the way the table looked and with Matthew’s reaction. “Wow, it looks like a restaurant in here,” he said, taking a seat across the table.

  “A very small restaurant,” Molly amended. She was about to sit down between Lauren and Jill when the phone rang. Before she could answer it, the answering machine picked up. “Hi Molly, it’s me, Phil. I got stuck late at work, and the turnpike is creeping because of the snow—”

  Here we go again, she thought tiredly.

  Molly picked up as he spoke. “Hi, Phil. I heard your message. So I guess you’re not coming tonight. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “It’s my own fault. I got a late start. I didn’t think the snow would be so heavy.” He sounded sincerely apologetic and disappointed. “Tell the girls I’m really sorry about tonight, but I’ll see them on the weekend, right?”

  “Sure. That should work out.” Molly had lots of baking to do again, so Phil’s visit would be a help to her.

  “Are they around? Can I say hello?”

  “We just sat down to dinner. I’ll have them call you later at home.”

  They said good-bye, and Molly hung up. As soon as she returned to the table, she realized everyone had overheard the conversation. Jill sat with a long face, suddenly looking too listless to eat. Lauren looked subdued as well, though not nearly as crushed as her younger sister.

  “I guess you guys heard the news. Your father can’t make it tonight. He got held up with the snow.”

  Lauren shrugged. “That’s okay. I didn’t want to go anyway with Amanda here.”

  “Will he come on Sunday?” Jill asked.

  “He said so.” Molly wished she could sound more definite, but she didn’t think it was wise. What if he canceled again? It wouldn’t surprise her.

  Part of her felt vindicated for distrusting him, while another part felt upset for her daughters, especially Jill. The weather was bad though. Maybe Phil wasn’t falling back into his old ways s
o quickly. She would just have to wait to see.

  “You can call him after dinner,” Molly added.

  “I’m not that hungry. I’ll call him now.” Jill started to get up from the table, but Molly stopped her with a look. “We have guests, Jill. You can be excused when everyone is finished. Your father is still on the road. He won’t be home for a while.”

  Jill sat sullenly, pushing chunks of the beef empanada around her dish with her fork. Molly felt embarrassed that Matthew had witnessed their little domestic drama but there was nothing she could do. She would need to talk with Jill alone later to soothe her hurt feelings. See, it’s already starting. Molly sighed to herself.

  “So how was school today, girls?” Matthew asked in a tone Molly thought determinedly bright. “How was chorus?”

  “Mrs. Pickering drove us crazy,” Lauren complained. “She made us sing the last bar of ‘Oklahoma’ about a million times. You know, that part when all the sections harmonize and get louder and louder. ‘Oklahoma, o-kay, o-kah-ay . . . O-kaaaay!’ ” Lauren stood up from her seat, singing, waving her arms, and getting carried away.

  Molly blinked, watching her daughter’s outflung arms narrowly miss Matthew’s head. Luckily he ducked in time, quietly laughing.

  “I remember!” Molly interrupted. “You don’t have to give a live performance,” she added, sharing a grin with Matthew.

  “Then Cheryl Nielsen said she had to go, and Mrs. Pickering totally freaked. Cheryl acts like such a big diva and always misses practice even though she has a solo. And—” Lauren suddenly turned to Amanda. “Tell your dad what happened next.”

  Amanda seemed uncomfortable and wouldn’t look at anyone. “You can tell,” she said.

  “No, you.” Lauren poked her friend with her elbow. “Go on.”

  Matt and Molly exchanged a curious glance. “What happened, honey?” Matt asked.

  “It’s no big deal,” Amanda said, looking down at the table. “Mrs. Pickering got mad at Cheryl for talking back and said if she didn’t stay, she couldn’t sing the solo. It’s in the finale, when we do this medley from The Sound of Music. Then Cheryl left anyway, so she picked me to do it.”