A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Good night, Molly. See you tomorrow.” Phil gave her a lazy grin. “By the way, you look super in that dress. Blue is definitely your color.”

  “Good night, Phil.” Molly kept her tone light. She secretly felt like flinging her bouquet at him but struggled not to lose her temper in front of Matthew.

  THE THREE GIRLS CHATTED NONSTOP IN THE BACKSEAT ON THE WAY TO the restaurant. Which was just as well, Matthew thought, since an awkward silence had fallen between him and Molly.

  She stared out the passenger’s side window, lost in thought. He couldn’t help wondering if she was brooding over her ex-husband.

  He was just as Matt had imagined—and even more so. Though he couldn’t say why, Matt had not expected Phil to be so good-looking. Maybe he was just protecting his own ego. Molly was certainly lovely enough. She could attract any man she set her sights on, he thought.

  Phil was a charming, smooth-talking guy. Whatever failings he may have had as a husband and father in the past, he now had Lauren and Jill wrapped around his little finger, though Matt could see he clearly loved both of them.

  What about Molly? Was Phil hoping to win her back, too? Matt wouldn’t be surprised. He glanced over at Molly, realizing he didn’t like that idea.

  “I’m sorry if Phil put you on the spot.” Molly’s quiet voice broke into his thoughts. “He’s so . . . inconsiderate sometimes. Well, most of the time, actually.”

  “That’s okay. I just didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go with him. I’m happy you decided not to,” he added.

  He saw her smile and knew he had said the right thing. Finally.

  “It all worked out, I guess.” She settled back in her seat and sighed. “I thought he’d never get the hint. He really should have just let it go. He’s going to see the girls all day tomorrow,” she said. “He spoils them something awful. They’re like little wildcats after a day out with him.”

  Molly shook her head, staring down at the flowers in her lap. “How can they forgive him so easily?”

  Matthew looked out at the road. He didn’t reply right away. “Children do have an amazing capacity to forgive and forget, God bless them. Especially a parent. It’s a good thing, too. We do make so many mistakes.”

  Molly didn’t answer right away. “Yes, that is a good thing. An amazing thing, really.” She sighed. “I didn’t mean to rant. He rattled me, showing up like that. I haven’t seen him for months and now he’s just popping out of the woodwork wherever I go. It’s starting to feel like a bad horror movie.”

  Matthew laughed at the exaggeration. But he could tell that Molly still had some lingering feelings for Phil. Why else would she get so unhinged? She seemed to think it was all residual anger, but Matthew wondered if there was something more going on—something Molly might not even realize.

  THE REST OF THE EVENING WENT SMOOTHLY. THE THREE GIRLS KEPT the conversation lively. Molly quickly recovered from her distress over Phil and was her usual bright and vivacious self—times ten, Matthew thought. Or maybe it was just the candlelight flickering in her big blue eyes. Matthew knew he must be staring but found he could barely take his eyes off her.

  Her emotions flashed across her lovely face like quicksilver, like sunlight sparkling on water. She was witty and irreverent one minute, tender and serious the next. She was warm. She was bold. She was outspoken, brimming with heartfelt emotion, then shy and suddenly self-conscious. She was honest and intelligent, totally without guile.

  She was nothing like Sharon, he thought, who always did and said just the right thing. No one would ever accuse Molly Willoughby of that, he thought, smiling to himself.

  She was not like anyone he’d ever met before. If he wasn’t careful, he would fall for her. Big time. By the end of the night, he felt lightheaded and happy, oddly at peace though he didn’t quite know why.

  After dessert, the three girls asked if they could take a walk around the restaurant, which had been a house. On a previous trek to the restroom they’d caught sight of the front parlor, which was filled with antiques, a game table, and a player piano. They were now eager to explore it.

  “There’s a Scrabble game in there with gold tiles,” Jill told her mother in an awestruck tone.

  “Go for it, Jill. Those vocabulary words are going to come in handy now,” Matthew teased.

  Molly glanced at him and laughed. “You’re incorrigible,” she said as the three girls ran off.

  Matthew sat back, suddenly bashful at being completely alone with Molly. She looked so beautiful tonight. He felt a little dizzy every time he looked at her.

  “I’m sorry about before,” she said suddenly. “About getting all worked up over running into Phil at the concert.” She shook her head; a silky curl fell against her cheek, he noticed. “He sure knows how to push my buttons. I guess he just knows me too well by now.”

  She glanced up at him with an uneasy smile. He could tell it was hard for her to talk about her ex-husband. Still, he was curious. He wanted to know more about her feelings for Phil. He suddenly wanted to know everything.

  “When did you and Phil meet?” he asked quietly.

  “I was fifteen years old, if you can believe that. A freshman in high school. I ended up marrying the first guy who ever asked me out on a date, for goodness’ sake. I guess you could say I was a little insecure.”

  Matthew didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help smiling at the way she told her story. “When did you get married?”

  “Right after graduation. I was eighteen and Phil was twenty. I didn’t want to go to college, and I wouldn’t listen to my parents. I thought I knew everything. I was a little wild. Had a bad attitude. I was every parent’s nightmare.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you weren’t that bad.” Matthew was sure, too. He knew by now how Molly loved to exaggerate to make her point. She could never have turned out this wonderful if she was half as bad as she claimed.

  “Oh, but I was. You have no idea. My parents should be awarded gold medals for putting up with me. I realize that now as Lauren is hitting that impossible stage.” She sighed and took a sip of her coffee, glancing at him over the rim of her cup. “I bet you were a total angel. Honor roll, student government, all that stuff.”

  He smiled slowly at her. “Actually, I was pretty bad myself for a while. Had that bad attitude thing you just mentioned.”

  Molly’s eyes widened in shock. “No, you didn’t. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m not. I really did have a bad stretch there for a while. See, we have more in common than you thought.”

  “You’re right about that.” Molly still looked surprised, and he couldn’t help grinning at her.

  “I was rebelling against my father, I guess. It was always assumed I’d be a doctor, just like him. I was determined to show everyone I was different. Even if it meant ruining my chances to get into a good college.”

  Molly cast him a thoughtful look. “I get it. But what happened after that? I mean, here you are. You turned out to be a doctor, after all. What made you change your mind?”

  “Well, something happened, something that changed my life, actually.” Matthew paused and glanced away. “My best friend crashed his car a few weeks before high-school graduation. He died on the scene, almost instantly. It was a horrific bloody mess. I was in the back seat and somehow hardly got a scratch. I still have nightmares about it.”

  Matthew saw her draw in a sharp breath. “How awful for you.” Her voice was warm with sympathy.

  “It was awful, all right . . . but it made me wake up and realize I’d been wasting time. You see, I really did want to be a doctor. I had always wanted to do this, ever since I was a little kid. I would have wanted it even if my father had been a fireman or owned a hardware store. I just wanted everyone to realize that it was my choice. I wasn’t just doing it because my parents wanted that for me.”

  Molly nodded. “I understand what you mean, and I’m glad it turned o
ut okay for you. I’m glad you got what you wanted.”

  “Thanks,” he said quietly. He met her gaze and held it. He felt she did understand. “How about you, Molly? Did you get what you wanted?”

  She smiled softly and shook her head. “No, not yet . . . But I’m working on it.”

  He reached over and covered her hand with his own. “It will come to you. I have a feeling about that.”

  “I hope so,” she said quietly.

  Matthew didn’t answer her. He didn’t know what to say. He sat holding her hand on the linen cloth until Molly quite suddenly sat up and slipped her hand into her lap. He followed her gaze and saw the girls returning to the table. He glanced at Molly and shared a smile.

  Well, there would be other times to talk to her alone like this, he thought. He hoped so, anyway.

  On the drive home, she didn’t say much. But she looked content—much more at ease than she had looked earlier.

  Matthew drove down Main Street and parked in front of Molly’s building. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he offered before she could say otherwise.

  Amanda waited in the car and waved good night. At the door to their apartment building, Molly looked down at her daughters expectantly. They both responded to the silent prompt, turning to Matthew.

  “Thank you for dinner, Dr. Harding,” Lauren said politely.

  “Yes, thank you,” Jill chimed in.

  He smiled at them. “You’re very welcome. We must do it again sometime,” he teased the girls in a formal tone.

  “Indubitably,” Jill said, and then she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Lauren poked her with an elbow. “Come on, silly.” They turned and ran upstairs.

  Molly smiled up at him. “Well, thank you again. We had a great time. It was very, very nice of you.”

  “My pleasure. Honestly.” He stared down into her eyes. “We should do it again . . . without the kids, I mean.”

  Molly’s bright eyes widened. “Sure,” she said slowly.

  Her mouth made a perfect circle of surprise, and he wanted very badly to kiss her. But then remembered Amanda sitting in the car only a few feet away. She was watching them carefully, he was certain.

  He leaned forward and quickly kissed her on the cheek instead. “I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Sure,” she said again. He could tell she was wondering if he really would.

  He suddenly wondered the same thing. This was hard, much harder than he remembered. Or was it only so difficult for him because of his past? He forced a smile and dug his hands in his pockets, taking a few steps away from her.

  “See you,” he called out as he got back in the car.

  Molly lifted her hand and waved good-bye. Then she turned and went inside.

  He started the car, feeling strangely unsettled. He could really care for her. He knew that now. Maybe he already did.

  He just didn’t want to be another man who let her down.

  ON SUNDAY MORNING SOPHIE SKIPPED COFFEE HOUR AND LEFT CHURCH with Miranda right after the service. She wanted to get home to Gus, of course. But she also knew that many friends from the congregation would soon be on their way to the orchard to visit.

  Her daughters and their families were on hand to help out with the entertaining. As she gave her directions and did the little chores they permitted, she felt the familiar anticipation that came with expecting company tinged with melancholy, like a photo of happier days, browned and frayed at the edges. Their friends would gather in the familiar rooms as they had for years and years. The guests would talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. Everyone would pretend it was a get-well visit. But everyone knew the truth. Sophie and Gus did, too. They were all really coming to say good-bye.

  Gus was fading fast. Right before her very eyes it seemed. Sometimes, when she came upon him resting, drifting in his own thoughts, it seemed so clear that he was not there anymore. His spirit was testing the waters, venturing out beyond her husband’s worn body, then drifting back again.

  It was like watching the tide go out, each wave that comes in growing almost imperceptibly shorter. At first you can barely tell anything is happening. But over time, as an hour and then another slips by, you can see how the shoreline has pulled away.

  That was how it was now, Sophie thought. Gus was moving away from her. Steadily, irreversibly. Like the tide in the sea.

  “Should I put out the good china, Grandma?” Miranda called from the dining room.

  “Yes, dear. And the silver flatware, too. The good everything. Take it all out,” Sophie said with emphasis.

  She set a homemade pie on a glass cake stand, sighing to herself. She wondered why she never realized before that life was so short, so precious. Why had she saved all these things? What for? So they could sit dusty and yellowed on a shelf? She should have used the good china every day. She should have dressed in her best clothes and dabbed on her treasured perfume just to go out and pick apples or dig in the garden. Gus’s time had just about run out, and it felt as if her time had, too.

  “I’ll get the door,” Miranda announced some time later from the front hallway.

  Sophie was in the bedroom with Gus, making him presentable. He’d insisted on wearing a white shirt with a red bow tie and his favorite argyle vest. Gray trousers and his fancy black Sunday shoes completed the outfit. He hadn’t been dressed up in real clothes for days. Sophie could see the effort had tired him but also lifted his spirits.

  His normally ruddy complexion had taken on a yellowish cast. She knew what that meant. His liver and kidneys were giving out. If he noticed, he didn’t say. He eyed himself in the mirror, combing his thin gray hair.

  “Do I look okay?”

  She stepped behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Best-looking man in the room, as always,” she assured him.

  He turned his face to kiss her hand. “You’re too good to me.”

  Sophie’s reply caught in her throat, so she didn’t say anything. He was mistaken. She could never be too good to Gus. It wasn’t possible.

  She rolled Gus out into the living room, into a circle of smiling faces and cheerful greetings. Jessica and Sam Morgan were there; Grace Hegman and her father, Digger; along with Harry Reilly, who owned the boatyard downtown.

  “Gus, good to see you. You look swell,” Harry said, shaking Gus’s hand. “Better hurry up and get well. I’ve got myself a new boat. Did Digger tell you?”

  “No, he didn’t say. Trading up, are you? It’s about time,” Gus chided him.

  “This rich guy had his boat in my yard, brand new. Had it on the water one season. Then he gets transferred out to Arizona, and he can’t wait to get it off his hands. He asks me if I can find a buyer. He was almost giving it away. I couldn’t resist.” Harry laughed. “It’s top of the line. Practically catches the fish for you.”

  A few times each summer a group of the men from church got together to go fishing. They went out from sunrise to sunset, and the man who caught the biggest fish had to buy the rest dinner. Gus had always enjoyed those outings, Sophie recalled. It gave him a little break from the orchard.

  “Remember that striper you hooked last summer, Gus?” Digger said. “Nearly broke my arm trying to help you reel it in.”

  “That was a beauty,” Sam agreed. “I caught one half the size, and we still have plenty in the freezer.”

  “Oh, dear, tell me about it.” Jessica sighed with a rueful smile. “How many ways can you cook bass?”

  “I have a few recipes I can give you, dear,” Sophie offered.

  “He was a monster. Wait, I’ve got a picture of that guy right up on the mantel.” Gus turned his chair and pointed.

  Sam jumped up and took the photo down, then handed it to him. “That fish was almost as big as you are.”

  Gus laughed. “Not quite. Forty-six inches, if I remember right.” He stared down at the photo, and Sophie noticed his smile slowly dissolve, like a lump of ice cream left out in the sun.

 
There would be no more fishing trips. No more mysterious tugs on a line. No more aching arms and a sore back from a battle with a big sea bass. No more unbelievable stories. That’s what he’s thinking, she realized. Her heart ached.

  The doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention. “I’ll go,” Sophie’s daughter Una offered.

  Sophie heard the sound of Reverend Ben and his wife Carolyn coming into the foyer. She stepped out to greet them. The reverend’s daughter, Rachel, and her husband, Jack Anderson, were also there, and Sophie was pleased to see them.

  Carolyn gave Sophie a kiss and hug in greeting. “Mark wanted to come so much,” she said, “but he volunteered to stay at Rachel’s to watch the baby. He asked me to tell you he’ll come by during the week to say hello if that’s all right.”

  “Of course, it’s all right. We’d love to see him anytime,” Sophie said sincerely. She and Gus had known both Rachel and Mark Lewis since they were little children. So many friends, she thought.

  As the Lewis family took off their coats, Emily Warwick and Dan Forbes arrived, along with Emily’s daughter, Sara Franklin, and her boyfriend, Luke McAllister.

  Sara handed Sophie a bunch of flowers. “These are for you,” she said.

  “Thank you, dear. How thoughtful.” Sophie hardly had time to admire them before Miranda took the bouquet and went off in search of a vase.

  Sophie followed Sara and Luke into the living room, remembering the day last fall that they had come apple picking in the orchard. Sara and Luke hardly knew each other at the time, but Sophie could tell something was simmering there.

  I was right, too, she thought with satisfaction.

  Luke had seemed such a mysterious figure when he first came to Cape Light. That was about a year ago now, Sophie realized. A former policeman, he had bought a piece of property from Dr. Elliot and decided to build a center for troubled teenagers on it. That had caused quite a stir in town. People were up in arms about it for a time, though she and Gus had always thought it was an admirable idea. When some of the kids came up from Boston to help build the place, there had been a terrible fire on the property. She and Gus had taken the kids in, and they all ended up working in the orchard when help was needed badly. Such a fortunate turn of events. The Lord has a way of working these things out, she reminded herself, of untangling life’s little knots when you least expect it.