Changes of the Heart

by Judith Mccoy Miller

  “What if they could come to the restaurant—Maura’s and mine—and join us for dinner? Free of charge. We could put Edith in charge of entertainment in case they wanted to stay for a spell after dinner. You know how she loves to see folks have a good time. What do you think?” she asked, an air of excitement overtaking her earlier downcast spirit.

  “I’m not sure why you’re asking me,” he replied. “I think Maura and Edith are the ones you should be talking to.”

  “But do you at least think it’s a good idea?” she persisted.

  “It’s a real nice idea, Georgette,” he conceded.

  “And would you be willing to help if we needed you?” she cajoled, once she’d gotten him to admit that her plan was worthy of consideration.

  He shook his head and laughed at her.

  “You are one insistent woman! You talk to the others, and if they’re willing, you can count on me. I’m not sure what I can do, though. My skills in the kitchen leave a lot of room for improvement,” he informed her.

  “Don’t worry. There will be lots of things you can do. I’m going to go and talk to Edith and Maura right away,” she told him, walking toward the door.

  “By the way, Georgette,” he called out, “is there some special reason why you came to extend my dinner invitation instead of Maura?”

  She stopped, frozen in her tracks. Why did he have to ask that? she thought, not sure how to answer. She wanted to tell the truth, but she certainly didn’t want to cause any further breach in the quickly fading marriage of her friend.

  “Because Maura asked me to,” she simply replied. “I’ve extended the invitations to all our guests.” It was the truth, pure and simple. Now if I can just get out of here before he questions me any further, she thought, reaching for the door handle.

  “Does she really want me to come?” he questioned, not letting her escape.

  “She put your name on the list of guests,” Georgette replied, leaving the rest to his imagination. “I really must be going, Luther. If Maura agrees to my idea, we’ll need to begin planning right away.”

  Finally outside, she breathed a sigh of relief. Maura’s not going to put me in that position again, she resolutely told herself, marching back toward the house.

  “What did he say?” Maura inquired the minute Georgette stepped inside the door.

  “If I didn’t know that you had more important things to do, I’d think you were watching out the window for me,” Geor-gette retorted. “He said he’d be here, but he also wanted to know why I was the one doing the inviting instead of you!”

  “What did you tell him?” Maura asked in a shrill voice.

  “I told him the truth. Oh, don’t panic,” she continued, noting the ashen look on her friend’s face. “I told him you had placed his name on the list of guests and that I had delivered all of the invitations. Then I rushed out before he could question me any further.”

  “Thank you, Georgette.”

  “You’re welcome. However, I made up my mind on the way home that I’m not going to be placed in that position again. It’s too uncomfortable, and while I don’t want to cause additional problems for you and Luther, I don’t want to lie, either. You two are old enough to discuss matters without a go-between,” Georgette chided.

  “I know that was unfair of me, but I don’t think I could have withstood further rejection from him,” Maura responded, attempting to assuage her feelings of guilt.

  “Forget about it for now. Guess what? While I was inviting Luther, I had the most wonderful idea. Want to hear it?” she asked, enthusiasm replacing the exasperation she’d expressed only minutes earlier.

  “Of course! Your ideas are usually quite remarkable,” Maura answered, laughing at Georgette’s obvious excitement.

  “Instead of having a dinner just for the folks we planned on, why don’t we invite any of the miners who come into town for Christmas? They’ll end up in the saloons trying to drink away their loneliness because there isn’t anything else for them to do. What do you think?” she asked, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.

  “Oh, Georgette, I don’t know. That would be—”

  “I know it’s a lot of work, but Luther said he’d be willing to help, and you know how Edith loves to entertain. She’d be playing the piano and singing carols—why, she’d probably even have Pastor Wilson give a short sermon. If everyone helps, it won’t be that much work, and there probably wouldn’t be that many guests,” she interrupted, noting the hesitation in Maura’s voice.

  “It is a generous plan. There’s no doubt about that,” Maura said, not wanting to deflate Georgette’s spirits. “But—”

  “Oh, thank you, Maura! I was afraid you would give me a whole list of reasons why we couldn’t do it. However, I should have known better, for you don’t want all those poor men drinking in a saloon any more than I do,” Georgette broke in, obviously fearful of the words that would follow Maura’s but.

  “Do you realize how little time there is to plan for such a meal?”

  “We’ve already planned it. All we need to do is prepare more,” Georgette answered, her smile contagious.

  “Have you talked to anyone except Luther about your plan?” Maura asked.

  “No—I thought I should talk to you first. But as soon as I feed Becca, I’ll go and talk with the others,” she answered, her voice filled with anticipation.

  “I suppose if they all agree that it’s a good idea and they’re willing to help, it won’t be so difficult. And you’re right—it certainly would provide a nice alternative for those men. I do believe you’ve been blessed with a charitable heart, Geor-gette,” Maura said, amazed at the changes that had taken place in the girl’s life since she’d accepted Christ.

  TEN

  The small group had worked diligently, preparing for the dinner and festivities to be held on Christmas Day. Shortly before midnight on Christmas Eve, Michael arrived to escort Georgette and Becca to midnight services at the small church. Although his invitation included Maura and she knew it was sincere, she once again felt like the extra—“the fifth wheel on the wagon.”

  I hate feeling this way. Why can’t I just be thankful that I have friends who are willing to include me in their plans in-stead of resenting my situation? she thought, removing her woolen cape from the small bedroom closet and pulling a pair of black kid gloves from the dresser drawer. Suddenly, a knock at the front door sent Waffles bounding down the steps in a fit of ferocious barking.

  “That dog is going to break his neck flying around the corner and down the steps like that,” Maura remarked while coming down the stairway and expecting to see Michael.

  “I think he’s determined to protect the three of you,” Luther replied, grinning. “I stopped to see if I could escort you to Christmas Eve services,” he continued with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

  “Oh, how nice!” Georgette replied, while clapping her hands together. Noting Maura’s stare, she quickly dropped her hands. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m meddling in your business,” she said, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

  “That’s all right. It’s good to have someone excited about the invitation,” Luther answered.

  “Perhaps I’d be more excited had you invited me in advance rather than showing up at the door unexpected,” Maura retorted, unable to hold her tongue.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that an engraved invitation was necessary to accompany one’s spouse to church,” he shot back at her.

  “Well, I just think it’s lovely that the two of you will be spending Christmas Eve together in God’s house,” Georgette interjected.

  The two of them turned toward her simultaneously.

  “Who asked you?” they questioned in unison, their faces contorted in anger.

  Forlornly, she gazed at them. A tear slid down her cheek. “I wish you could see yourselves. If so, perhaps you’d have a change of heart,” she replied before walking away from them and back toward her bedroom.

&n
bsp; “Georgette!” Maura called, following behind the girl. She could feel Luther’s stare as she limped into the parlor. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him watching her.

  “Is that pity or disgust?” she asked in a razor-thin voice.

  “Neither—it’s astonishment. Astonishment at how something that seemed so right could turn out so wrong,” he replied, shaking his head as he walked out the door.

  “Georgette, let me explain,” Maura began as she entered her friend’s bedroom. Before she could go any further, another knock sounded at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Maura said when Georgette began to stand up. “I’m sure it’s Luther returning to apologize.”

  Waffles ran along beside her as she entered the front hallway and opened the door. “Merry Christmas,” Michael greeted. “Everyone ready to go?”

  “Just about,” Maura replied, attempting to hide her disappointment. She had been certain that it would be Luther. I should have known better, she thought as her disappointment gave way to anger.

  “It’s Michael,” she announced, walking into the bedroom. “I should have known that Luther wouldn’t return,” she indignantly announced to Georgette.

  “Why should he? And why should you want him to?” Georgette asked, bewildered by Maura’s behavior. “I’d think you would have had enough dissension for one evening. Personally, I’d like to go to church without any further upheavals. Are you going to join us or not?”

  “Yes,” Maura replied, feeling the sting of Georgette’s re-proach. “I apologize for my undignified conduct. I don’t want to spoil your holiday.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology, Maura, and it’s not the holiday I’m concerned about. It’s you—you and Luther and—”

  “We’re keeping Michael waiting,” Maura interrupted, knowing that further discussion would only lead to more words spoken in anger—words that couldn’t be taken back.

  The services were just beginning as they entered the church and slipped in a pew near the back of the church. The candles at the front of the church offered only a dim glow, which made it impossible for Maura to spot Luther.

  He probably went home, she thought, leaning toward Georgette in an attempt to gain a better view.

  “Don’t you have enough room?” Georgette whispered, scooting a bit closer to Michael.

  “Yes,” Maura answered. Hoping Georgette didn’t realize that she had been looking for Luther, she forced herself to keep her eyes focused on Pastor Wilson throughout the remainder of the sermon.

  As Edith struck the opening chords of “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” their individual candles were lit, filling the church with a shadowy, flickering light that trailed out into the night as they left for their homes.

  “Do you still want me to help tomorrow?”

  Maura turned, startled to see Luther standing behind her. “I thought you’d gone home,” she replied.

  “No, I was sitting up front. Would it be better if I didn’t come tomorrow? I’ll do whatever you want. I don’t want to be the cause of ruining all the hard work that’s gone into your dinner plans.”

  “Of course we want you to come! Besides, we need your help,” Georgette answered before Maura could say a word. “I think we’re going to need every pair of hands we can get! At least that’s my opinion,” she finished, looking toward Maura.

  “I agree. We’ll need all the help we can get,” she replied.

  “In that case, I’ll plan to be there. Good night to all of you,” he said, his look encompassing the three of them.

  “I’ll be down early in the morning to help you carry that lumber up to the house,” Michael responded. “Good night!”

  Luther waved his hand in reply and continued walking toward the store, with a bit of a slump to his shoulders and slowness to his stride.

  The three of them walked home in silence; even Becca remained silent, the cold air apparently not disturbing her sleep. When they reached the house, Maura extended her arms to take the baby from Georgette.

  “I’ll put her to bed. You two go ahead and say your good nights,” she offered.

  “Thank you,” Georgette whispered as she handed her the baby.

  Becca was soon snuggled into her cradle beside Georgette’s bed. Giving the baby one last kiss, Maura returned to the parlor.

  “You two appear to be deep in conversation. However, I was going to retire for the night. It’s late, and we’ll have to begin preparations early tomorrow,” Maura said in an obvious attempt to speed Michael’s departure.

  “There’s no need for you to wait up. We had a few matters to discuss, but we’re almost through. Michael will be leaving momentarily,” Georgette explained, giving her friend a smile. “Good night, Maura,” the couple called out as she walked to-ward the stairway.

  “Good night,” she whispered as a lump began to rise in her throat.

  Why am I feeling sorry for myself? I could be sitting downstairs holding hands with Luther or living under the same roof if I chose, she thought as she began to undress for bed. Then why do I feel so miserable, and why am I so jealous of anyone else who has a relationship? she questioned herself. Slowly she unpinned and brushed her long auburn hair, stroke after stroke, until her arm began to ache.

  You need some changes in your heart, a small voice whispered inside her head. Shocked at the revelation, Maura sat looking in the mirror.

  “I need to change. Me! It’s always me that’s wrong; it’s always me that must give in and overlook the way others treat me,” she murmured aloud. “That’s not fair. Why doesn’t anybody else need to change?”

  Me, me, me. Poor me, came the small voice once again. You can either change your heart or turn into a bitter old woman, unloved and wallowing in self-pity. Luther will meet you part way, if you’ll only give him a chance. It might help to have a positive approach instead of your usual negative attitude when you’re around him, the nagging voice continued in her thoughts.

  Slowly Maura walked to the bed and got down on her knees. “Is that You talking to me, God?” she whispered, a trickle of tears escaping her eyes “I know you’re right—that I’ve become bitter through the years. Even more so since marrying Luther. I wanted to have a good marriage—like Daniel and Amanda’s—is that so much to ask?”

  There was no answer—only the stillness of the cold starry night. “I’ll try, God. If that’s what You want, I’ll try,” she promised, rising from her knees.

  ❧

  Morning arrived all too quickly, and Maura awakened to the sounds of Michael’s and Luther’s voices, mixed with Waffles’s occasional barking.

  “I’ve overslept,” she scolded herself, yet she wanted to re-main under the warm covers.

  “Maura, are you up?” came Georgette’s voice calling up the stairs.

  “I overslept. I’ll be down shortly,” she replied, hurrying to make herself presentable.

  “That’s a first,” Georgette commented to Michael.

  “What’s that?”

  “Maura oversleeping. I’ve never known her to do that,” she answered.

  “She was probably exhausted from all the trouble she caused Luther yesterday,” Michael retorted.

  “Michael! If that was the case, they’d both have overslept because Luther was dishing it out just as fast as Maura,” she half-mockingly scolded him.

  “What are you two talking about? Thought I heard my name mentioned,” Luther remarked. “You want to help me with that lumber?” he continued, not waiting for an answer to his previous question.

  “Think we ought to get the makeshift tables and benches set up?” Michael asked Georgette.

  “Why don’t you just carry the lumber up here, and we’ll wait until we need them? There are quite a few tables and chairs in the dining area already, and I’m not sure how many men will actually show up. Besides, it will save having to fight our way around all that extra ‘furniture’ until closer to dinner time,” she suggested.

  “Sounds fine with me,” Luther answer
ed. “We’ll just load it into the wagon and bring it over here. No need to unload it unless there’s a need,” he advised Michael as the two walked toward Luther’s store.

  Luther led Michael to the storage barn behind the store, and the two of them chose pieces of lumber to place in the wagon. “We’ll take those wider ones to use for tables; the narrower ones will make good benches,” Luther advised. “I think we can use those smaller barrels under the benches, and I’ve got lots of the big ones to use under the tables.”

  “How many you think we’ll need?” Michael inquired.

  “Don’t have any idea, but even with rearranging, that dining room is only going to hold two of these setups. If there are too many guests, either they’ll have to wait their turn or, if it’s not too cold, we’ll see if Maura and Georgette want to put a couple tables outside,” Luther replied.

  When they’d finished loading all the necessary items for the makeshift seating, they hitched up the team and led the horses up the street and to the rear of the restaurant. Once the horses had come to a complete halt, Luther deftly unhitched the team and walked them back around to the front of the house.

  “I’m going to take the horses back down to my barn. No sense in having them hitched up here all day,” he told Michael.

  “Good morning, Luther,” Maura called out, walking onto the front porch.

  “Mornin’ and Merry Christmas to you,” Luther tentatively answered.

  “You want some company walking the horses back?” she offered.

  “I can take ’em—unless you’re anxious for some exercise,” he added.

  “I’ll probably get all the exercise I need today fixing and serving dinner, but I wouldn’t mind the company,” she said, giving him a cheery smile and joining him at the bottom of the steps.

  “In that case, come along,” he replied, giving her a half-hearted smile in return. “You know, Maura, you’re a hard person to figure out. Last night you were so angry that I didn’t know if you wanted me to come over here and help out today. And now, this morning, you act like there’s nothing you enjoy more than being in my company. Am I dense or missing something here? To be quite honest, I just don’t understand you,” he remarked as they walked alongside the horses.