A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  Sophie Potter listened attentively as Reverend Ben concluded the service with the benediction and response. The choir sang the final hymn, and Miranda smiled at her. “Ready to go, Grandma?”

  Sophie nodded. “That was lovely. I do love church on Easter morning. All the flowers and the sunlight. It’s my favorite holiday.”

  “I know what you mean. It doesn’t feel like it’s really spring until Easter, does it?”

  Sophie followed the others down the aisle. She held Miranda’s arm but thought of Gus, missing his presence beside her even though she felt sure he was up in heaven, celebrating with the angels. She thought of Reverend Ben’s words and thanked the Lord again for answering her prayers and granting her a new life at the orchard. I know this isn’t a permanent thing. I’ll keep working hard, Lord, and try to live your Word. I won’t squander the time I have left here, believe me.

  THE MORGANS GATHERED AT MOLLY’S PARENTS’ HOUSE AFTER CHURCH. It was a small house in the section of town that had once been a community of summer cottages. The Morgans had expanded it over the years, but the cozy little Cape was never ideal for raising so many children or feeding so many at a sit-down dinner. Somehow, though, they all managed to squeeze together every holiday around the dining-room table.

  Sam and Jessica were there along with Molly’s younger brother Glen and his family, who lived in Burlington. Molly’s younger sister Laurie and her oldest brother Jim were at their in-laws’ houses, but Molly’s mother couldn’t abide a holiday gathering with fewer than twenty, so she had invited other relatives to fill the gaps—Molly’s Aunt Mary and Uncle Lou along with Molly’s cousin Beth and her husband and children.

  Molly was so busy catching up with her siblings that she nearly forgot about Phil. She had agreed he could stop by and take Lauren and Jill to visit with his parents today.

  They were all finishing the main course when Molly suddenly noticed the time and sent the girls upstairs to wash their faces and brush their hair. Playing with their cousins had left both girls looking rumpled. Not that Phil would mind; she knew he would show them off as proudly as if displaying two princesses.

  Moments later the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it. It’s just Phil,” she announced as she left the table.

  “Phil? Phil Willoughby is here?” Her father sounded dismayed. Then she heard her mother shushing him.

  “He’s coming to get the girls, Joe. I told you that.”

  Molly knew that while she left the room her mother would be filling in her aunts and other interested guests on the news that Phil was trying to clean up his act and be a real dad again. She wasn’t sure how her family would react. They hadn’t seen Phil for a long time, and she knew that her father, at least, was still angry with his ex-son-in-law for the way he had treated Molly.

  “Come on in,” Molly greeted Phil. “The girls are upstairs, cleaning up. I’ll try to hurry them along.”

  “No hurry. That’s okay.” She could tell from his voice that he was apprehensive about facing her family. Well, he should be.

  Molly walked into the dining room while Phil hung back in the doorway. “Hello everyone. Happy Easter,” he said politely.

  Her father continued to chew his food, glancing at Molly’s mother.

  “Happy Easter, Phil,” Marie replied. “It’s beautiful out there, isn’t it? I thought the rain would never stop.”

  “Yes, it’s a beautiful day,” Phil agreed heartily, seeming relieved to have something so mundane to talk about.

  “Phil, how are you doing?” Sam walked in from the kitchen and shook Phil’s hand.

  “Sam, good to see you.” Phil smiled widely at his old friend. “I heard you got married. Where’s the lucky girl?”

  “She’s right here.” Sam proudly rested his hand on Jessica’s shoulder. “Jessica, this is Phil. Do you remember him from school, honey? We were in the same year.”

  “Nice to see you again, Phil.” Jessica’s tone was diplomatic. Molly couldn’t tell if she remembered Phil or not.

  Molly heard Lauren and Jill come down the stairs. Phil turned to greet them, holding out his arms. “There they are, my two beauties. How lucky can a guy get?” Phil asked, kissing them each on the cheek.

  Molly saw her mother and father exchange a look as the girls both hugged Phil, obviously thrilled to see him. “I have some Easter surprises in the car for you,” Phil confided in a whisper.

  Jill’s smile widened, her eyes alight with greed. “Bye, Mom, see you later.”

  “I’ll walk you all to the door,” Molly told her. “Say good-bye to everyone, girls. Show some nice manners.”

  Her daughters politely bid the group good-bye, running to the head of the table to kiss their grandparents, then back to Phil. Molly followed Phil and the girls out to the foyer.

  “We won’t be too late,” Phil told her. “What about next week—don’t they have off from school?”

  “Spring break,” Molly groaned. “I have so much work right now. I need this school vacation like a root canal from the Easter Bunny.”

  Phil laughed. He always did like her stupid jokes. “Don’t worry. I can take some time off. I’ll take them off your hands for a few days. It will be fun now that the weather is warmer.”

  “Would you? That would be great.” Molly smiled at him with relief.

  “As long you don’t mind if I change my schedule,” he added. “Maybe you have some stone-carving tools handy?”

  “Okay,” she said, returning his smile. “I’ll see what kind of stone-carving tools I can find. Just call ahead and give us fair warning?”

  “Sure. I can do that.” He smiled widely and touched her shoulder. “Happy Easter, Molly. You look good in that color, sort of a peaches-and-cream thing going on there.”

  “Right. Thanks, Phil.” Molly nodded and stepped back into the door. “I’ll see you. Have fun with your family.”

  “Sure, see you.” He smiled again and walked down to his car where Lauren and Jill were already waiting. Phil was a character, Molly thought, watching them pull away. At least he did show up here today, as promised. It scared her to even think it, but he was practically getting reliable.

  When Molly returned to the dining room, dinner had ended. The guests had dispersed, waiting to be called back for dessert and coffee. Jessica and Sam were among the helping hands clearing the table.

  “Funny to see Phil after all this time.” Sam stacked some dinner dishes, putting the silverware on top. “He looks like he’s doing well. It’s good to see him pulling himself together and doing right by you and the girls.”

  Molly picked up some glasses. She felt an impulse to make some disparaging remark about Phil but caught herself. She didn’t want to be like that anymore.

  “So far, so good,” she said. “We’ve hit a few bumps, but we’re managing to work things out.”

  “That’s great. Maybe you guys will get back together again.”

  Molly turned her head to look at him, thinking he had to be joking. “Are you crazy? I’d never get back together with Phil. Not in a million years.”

  Sam stood with his stack of plates. “What’s so crazy about it? It happens to people all the time. The kids would be happy. Maybe Phil’s finally grown up. He’s always been a good-hearted guy, even though he messed up with you. You could do a lot worse than him, Molly.”

  Molly stood there, stunned. The entire idea was so unthinkable to her that she couldn’t reply.

  Yes, I could do a lot worse than Phil Willoughby. He’s not the most awful man in the world. But I could do a lot better, she thought, turning toward the kitchen. Though I seem to be the only one who thinks so.

  When it was time to serve dessert and coffee, Molly was still helping out in the kitchen. She had made a number of desserts for the party, including a cheesecake, a lemon meringue pie, and for the younger members of the group, a rabbit-shaped cake covered with coconut icing. She finished decorating the platter, adding a few jelly beans for color around the edge. Jessica swept by
and popped one into her mouth.

  “Wow, that looks beautiful. What’s inside?”

  “Chocolate cake. Well, more of a fudge cake, actually.”

  “I’m not sure I could tell the difference. But I’m willing to try.” Jessica smiled and took another jelly bean. “I hear you’re going to do my sister’s party. You must be excited.”

  “More like terrified,” Molly confided. She shook some powdered sugar on the cheesecake then took another critical look at it. “The woman who teaches my course is giving me a lot of help, but I’m still sort of nervous.”

  “How about your financing? How’s that going?”

  Molly laughed. “So far I’m working off my Visa card. . . . That’s not the way you’re really supposed to do this, right?”

  “Well, it’s one way, I suppose. I can give you a few more ideas if you come down to the bank sometime.” Jessica smiled at her, then stole another bean. “You’re in business now, Molly. You can get a line of credit or a loan.”

  Molly didn’t answer right away. She concentrated on arranging a cluster of strawberries on top of the cheesecake. “I don’t know. Do you really think the bank would loan someone like me money?”

  “You’re not so bad. I’ll put in a good word for you, promise,” Jessica gently teased. “Just call me next week, okay?”

  Molly met Jessica’s gaze. Her smile was so sincere, it was hard to refuse. She really does want to help me, Molly realized. I’ve really haven’t been fair to her.

  Jessica brushed off her hands. “Can I help you put these cakes on the table?”

  Molly nodded. “Sure. The bunny cake is ready to go.”

  Jessica picked up the platter and gazed down at it. “That’s one thing I dislike about Easter,” she said, walking slowly into the dining room. “Decapitating these poor, defenseless chocolate rabbits.”

  Molly had to laugh. When she stopped to think about it, that part always made her squeamish, too.

  MATTHEW HAD SPENT THE DAY AT HIS SISTER’S HOUSE. HE AND AMANDA had come home in the early evening. Amanda quickly changed into her jeans and now sat glued in front of the TV. He sat in the living room, trying to read a book but not quite focusing on the story.

  His parents had been at Erica’s house, too. Erica was divorced and didn’t have children so it had been a quiet afternoon but a pleasant visit with his family. Erica was a good cook.

  Not as good as Molly, of course. He had been thinking of her a lot today. She hadn’t been far from his thoughts ever since he saw her in church that morning. The truth was, she was never far from his thoughts. He missed talking to her. He missed the way she smiled, the way she moved, the way she just lit up a room. He missed her smart aleck sense of humor. His life seemed dull lately without Molly.

  He had been tempted to talk to Erica today when he helped her in the kitchen. But just as he worked himself up to asking for her advice, his father had come into the room.

  What could Erica tell him anyway? He had to figure this out himself. It didn’t take a rocket scientist. He was stuck on Molly Willoughby.

  But what to do about it? He had backed himself into a safe, comfortable little corner with that “let’s just be friends” speech. He could kick himself now, just thinking about it. She must hate me now. Or at least think I’m a jerk.

  Which I have been. Totally, as Amanda would say.

  He glanced at the phone and took a deep breath. What if he called her right now? He could say something like, “I saw you in church today, and I didn’t get to say much. I just wanted to wish you a happy Easter. . . .”

  He shook his head. That wouldn’t work. She was mad at him. She had a perfect right to be. He had hurt her feelings. She might not even talk to him. He had to do better than that.

  Not tonight, he told himself. He was too tired. It wouldn’t come out right. He needed to go to bed and get some sleep. He had a big day tomorrow, booked solid with appointments and a patient going in for bypass surgery.

  Matt closed his book and put it aside. Molly, Molly, Molly. What did you do to me? Even thinking about work can’t make me forget you entirely.

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands. He thought of Molly again, how lovely she looked in church today. What had she been thinking, sitting there so close to him? She had said hello, then barely glanced his way, her attention fixed on Reverend Ben.

  The sermon had touched him, and the message came back to him now, along with his fears. Matthew swallowed and whispered a prayer. “Dear Lord, I’m sort of a mess tonight. I think I’ve finally found someone I could truly love. But I’m afraid to move forward, afraid to disappoint her and fail her, like I failed Sharon. Please help me change. Give me a second chance to do better.”

  He took a deep breath, then opened his eyes. He didn’t know what else to say. He hoped the Lord had heard his words, but he also knew that praying wasn’t like waving a magic wand. For his prayers to work, he would have to do his share.

  TUCKER WAS OUT ON PATROL MONDAY AFTERNOON WHEN THE CALL came in, a break-in on North Creek Road. Kevin Degan, the homeowner, had called to report it. Since Tucker was the nearest car, the dispatcher directed him to the property.

  Tucker pulled into the driveway, parking behind an SUV. The open hatch revealed a jumble of suitcases, pillows, and golf clubs—the usual paraphernalia from a family car trip.

  The Degans were waiting for him at the front door. “Officer, we’ve been robbed,” Mr. Degan began. “We just pulled in from a few days in Vermont, visiting relatives. We opened the door and found this.” He gestured to the living room behind him, where an end table had been knocked over and sofa cushions lay scattered on the rug.

  “I’m going to take a full report,” Tucker assured him. “Let’s just go step by step. What time do you think you got in?”

  “It was half past two. I know because I checked my watch.”

  “Kevin always checks to see if we’ve made good time,” Mrs. Degan added. Her face was tear streaked as she pointed to the back of the house. “They came in through the glass door in back. It’s broken in a million pieces.”

  “It must have happened last night. The rain got in and wet the carpeting,” her husband said.

  Though it was clear and sunny now, it had poured the night before. “That’s a good guess, sir,” Tucker said. “But just to be on the safe side, I’m going to have a look around and make sure the intruder is really gone.”

  Mrs. Degan gasped, and her husband put his arm around her shoulder. “That’s fine. My boys are back in the kitchen, having a snack. Nothing stops teenagers from eating, right?” He shook his head. “Should I call them in here, too?”

  “That’s all right. They’re okay. I’ll start upstairs.”

  Tucker checked the house, jotting some notes on a pad. It was a messy job, amateurs. It looked as if they’d been in a rush but hadn’t taken anything too big—no computer monitors or TV sets. They had torn the bedroom apart, especially the woman’s closet and dresser. Looking for jewelry, he figured. He felt a twinge, remembering Fran’s stickpin. She still hadn’t found it.

  He checked the house room by room, then returned to the Degans and took down their story. He called the station from his car radio and made a quick report. Mr. Degan had some pull in town, and the chief was sending another car over with a team that would dust for prints, question the couple more closely, and talk to the neighbors about anything they might have heard or seen.

  Tucker continued his part of the process, finishing up the standard questions he needed for his report. When his colleagues arrived, he was free to go.

  He got back in his car and radioed the station, then resumed his usual route around familiar village neighborhoods. The Degan’s break-in nagged at him. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard of a robbery like this in Cape Light. It was unlikely the thieves would be caught, he knew. That was just the way these things usually went. The family would collect on their homeowner’s insurance and probably install an alarm system. />
  Back at the station, he began to type up his report. The other officers at the Degan house had come back earlier; he had seen them leaving Chief Sanborn’s office.

  He was nearly done with his paperwork when the chief stopped at his desk.

  “I’m almost done with the report on that break-in on North Creek, Chief. Is that what you’re looking for?”

  “Yes, I’d like to see that as soon as you’re done. Bring it into my office, will you?”

  Something in the chief’s tone and expression set off silent alarm bells, but Tucker showed no reaction. He checked through the document quickly, fixed a messy spot with white out, then carried the papers back to the chief’s office.

  Sanborn beckoned him in. “Shut the door, will you, Tucker?”

  Tucker closed the door and gave the chief his copy of the crime report, then took his usual seat. “The Degans were pretty upset. There wasn’t much to go on out there, though. Looks as if it happened last night.”

  “Yes, so I’ve heard. Myers and Paretsky talked to some neighbors. One of them says he saw someone in the Degans’ backyard. Claims he got a good look at him, too.”

  “Really? In the rain and all? He must have good eyesight.”

  “It didn’t start raining until about midnight. This was around ten. The neighbor took out his newspapers for recycling, says he saw some guy running through the Degans’ backyard.”

  “Well, that’s something I guess.” Tucker wondered what this was all adding up to.

  “I like to think I’m a fair man,” Sanborn said. “I checked Carl’s record. You were right. He served his time, had no parole violations. But this neighbor’s description fits your brother, fits him to a tee.”

  Tucker didn’t say anything at first. It couldn’t be Carl. This was just Sanborn needing to make a quick arrest.

  “That’s interesting,” Tucker said finally. “Did this neighbor see the guy breaking into the house?”

  “No, just running out of the yard.” The chief leaned back in his chair. “He claims he got a good look at his face, though. The guy taking off nearly ran right into him.”