Hidden History

by Melody Carlson

  “That is so wonderful,” said Jane. “I just love the way Father dealt with his faith journey in such a no-nonsense way.”

  “It’s no wonder that God called him to be a pastor,” said Alice.

  Later that evening, Alice decided to finish her letter to Mark. If her father could muster the courage to ask Adele to dance, not to mention asking God to reveal Himself, surely Alice could manage to write a simple letter. After throwing away several feeble attempts, Alice forced herself to finish one and actually seal it in the envelope. At the same time she felt as if she were sealing her fate.

  She feared that her letter seemed stiff and formal, but she knew no other way to write it. She had tried to be honest as she explained to Mark that she was not sure why he wanted to see her again, but if it was important to him, she would be willing to meet. She knew that the message was not inviting, and she was not positive that she would mail it. She decided to pray about it.

  “Dear Heavenly Father, this whole thing with Mark is confusing and disconcerting to me. My life has been peaceful and fulfilling without him in it, and I see no reason to invite the possibility of frustration and even heartache now. I want to place this in Your hands. I ask that Your will be done. Amen.”

  Content that her future was safe in God’s hands, Alice drifted off to sleep.

  The next day, Alice had just put the letter to Mark in the hospital’s outgoing mail when she saw Pastor Kenneth waving to her as he left the pediatrics ward. “Alice,” he called with a smile. “How are you doing today?”

  “I’m well, Pastor. Are you visiting someone?”

  “Yes. Bobby Dawson.”

  “I didn’t know Bobby was in here. What for?”

  “He broke his collarbone playing touch football yesterday afternoon.”

  “Poor Bobby. How’s he doing?”

  “Not too badly, and his spirits picked up as I was leaving.” Alice frowned. “Why’s that? Surely he wasn’t happy to see you go?”

  Pastor Kenneth laughed. “Not exactly. He was glad to see some new visitors coming—a group of giggling teenage girls bearing balloons and ice cream.”

  Alice nodded. “That ought to make him feel better.”

  “Or encourage him to play up the pity factor.”

  “He might as well enjoy his convalescence.”

  “Speaking of convalescing, I noticed the Humberts were not in church yesterday. How is Vera doing?”

  “Not very well. In fact, I was thinking of giving you a call today. I’ve been visiting when I can and helping out, and my sisters and I have been taking food over, though not every night. Vera is having a pretty hard time, and I’m wondering if the church might be able to do—”

  “Of course,” said Pastor Kenneth. “You don’t need to say another word. I feel bad that I didn’t think of offering help.”

  “You’ve got so much going on. I could’ve called, but I kept thinking she’d be feeling well soon.”

  “But she’s not.” He shook his head. “Have they discovered anything yet?”

  “No. Vera is almost convinced that it’s cancer, but so far all the tests have been negative.”

  “Poor Vera. She needs the support of her church family more than ever right now. I’ll call Ellen Moore. She’s heading up Helping Hands now. I’m sure she’ll have some ideas.”

  Alice sighed. “Thank you.”

  He patted her on the arm. “Never hesitate to ask for help, Alice. There are a lot of people in our church who aren’t so busy as you, and they’re just waiting to be needed.”

  “Yes, I forget that. My father used to say that when we try to do everything ourselves, we rob others of the blessing of giving and helping.”

  “Your father was a very wise man.”

  Alice’s week felt a little less busy, knowing that Vera now had additional help. Ellen Moore helped out with food and cleaning on Tuesday, and Florence Simpson took the following day. Alice wondered how Vera felt about that, because she and Florence did not always get along well. Of course, very few people, other than Ethel, seemed to get along with Florence.

  “I balked at getting this extra help at first,” admitted Vera during Alice’s visit on Friday afternoon. “But I can see that it’s taken a load off Fred.”

  Alice set the freshly made pot of Vera’s favorite herbal tea on the kitchen table. “Are you sure you feel well enough to be up, Vera?”

  “I try to move around as much as I can, and I’ve actually been feeling a bit better today.” She eased herself down into the chair with a tired sigh. “Did I tell you that Clara Horn was my helper today? She even brought her pig with her.”

  Alice smiled. “How’s little Daisy doing?”

  “Clara says she’s been as right as rain since your miracle doctor fixed her up. I’m thinking maybe I should have this Dr. Graves come take a look at me.”

  Alice laughed. “He’s an animal doctor, Vera.”

  “Maybe that’s what I need.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you’re getting your sense of humor back. Maybe you are on the mend after all.”

  “I’ve been trying to take your advice,” said Vera. “I’ve been reading my Bible a lot and thanking God for the good things in my life. Did I tell you that Polly has a boyfriend?”

  “No, is it serious?”

  Vera nodded as she sipped her tea. “I think so. She called last night and said that if she ever gets married, she would like to have the reception at the inn.”

  Alice shook her head. “Your little tomboy Polly talking about getting married, now isn’t that something.”

  “I hope she’ll take her time about it.”

  They chatted for about an hour, but Alice could see that Vera was getting tired. “I think you should go lie down, Vera. You don’t want to be all worn out when Fred gets home.”

  Vera sighed. “It seems hard to believe that I’m actually ten years younger than you, Alice. I feel like I’m about a hundred and two these days.”

  As usual, Alice prayed for Vera as she walked home. Once again she wondered what this mystery ailment could possibly be. She had already hunted through her own medical books, but like the doctors she came away without an answer. Still, there had to be one—even if God was the only One who knew it. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she fervently prayed as she neared the house. “Please, please, show us what’s wrong with Vera and how to treat it. I know You have all the answers to all our questions, and I believe You can show us what is making Vera sick. Thank you. Amen.”

  The phone began to ring as soon as Alice stepped into the house. She picked up the one in the hallway and was surprised to hear Mark Graves on the other end.

  “I got your letter,” he told her, and then he laughed lightly. “Believe me, Alice, I can understand how you might feel a little skittish.”

  “Skittish?” she pondered his choice of words. It sounded like something someone would say about a horse, perhaps even a flighty young mare. But then Mark was a vet, and it was likely such animal descriptions came easily to him.

  “Listen, I can understand your hesitation, Alice. To be honest, I thought you might just tell me to go take a leap.”

  She had to laugh at this. “That seems a bit harsh, not to mention rude.”

  “Well, I appreciate your graciousness toward me, Alice, as well as your willingness to get together. I hoped we could just talk, but I don’t want you to feel any pressure. I just see this as two old friends spending some time together. Does that sound okay to you?”

  She felt relieved. “Yes, that sounds fine.”

  “So, how about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.

  Suddenly her sense of relief vanished. “Oh, I don’t know about that—”

  “Look, Alice, everyone has to eat.” His tone was persuasive. “And it’s no big deal to share a meal together. It’s not like this is a date or anything. Okay?”

  She hesitated. “Okay.”

  “I could pick you up around six.”

  “That would be fi
ne.”

  They said good-bye and Alice hung up the phone and took in a deep breath. What had she gotten herself into?

  “Who was that?” asked Jane as she popped her head around the corner from the office beneath the stairs, making Alice jump.

  “I didn’t know anyone was here,” said Alice.

  “Obviously,” said Jane. “I’m guessing that was Mark Graves.”

  “How could you tell?” asked Alice, certain she had said nothing to give it away.

  “The tone of your voice.” Jane offered Alice a chocolate. “I just made these today, a new recipe.”

  Alice took a bite. “Mmm, good. How can you tell from the tone of my voice?”

  “It’s just that you sounded so, so guarded. So what does Dr. Mark want?”

  “Just to talk. We’re going to dinner tomorrow.”

  Jane’s brows lifted. “Dinner?”

  “It’s no big deal,” said Alice, repeating Mark’s words. “Everyone’s got to eat. It’s not an actual date.”

  “Oh no.” Jane shook her head slowly, indicating that she did not believe a word that Alice was saying. “I’m sure it’s not an actual date.”

  “Well, it’s not.” Suddenly Alice felt very unsure. “Is it?”

  Jane wrapped her arms around Alice. “Hey, don’t worry, sweetie. It’ll be fun for you. Now what’ll we dress you up in?”

  “We?”

  Jane grinned. “Hey, this is what sisters are for.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Saturday, no matter how much Alice protested, Jane refused to back down from her “offer” to help her select an outfit. “Come on, Alice,” urged Jane. “When was the last time you went out on a date anyway?”

  “I told you this is not a date,” said Alice.

  Louise frowned from her post by Alice’s doorway. “Mark Graves called you, invited you to dinner, plans to pick you up here tonight, right?”

  Alice nodded.

  “So, what about that is not a date?” asked Jane as she examined a brown pantsuit. “How old is this little number?”

  Alice attempted a feeble smile. “Probably from the seventies.”

  “Going for the retro look, are we?” Jane hung the suit back in the closet and shook her head. “We need to take you shopping.”

  “But—”

  “No but’s, Alice.” Jane looked at her watch. “We could even grab some lunch in town. Do you want to come, Louise? We could probably invite Aunt Ethel over here to keep an eye on things for an hour or two.”

  Louise shook her head. “I agree that Alice needs help with her wardrobe, but I am afraid I would only muddy the waters, Jane. I would be trying to force her into cashmere, and you would be trying to get her into something from Bangladesh or Timbuktu. I think I had better just stick around here and mind the fort.”

  “So should I,” said Alice.

  Jane narrowed her eyes. “No more arguing from you, Alice Christine Howard. Your closet is so dated that you could probably sell your clothes as collectibles.”

  “I thought you liked vintage clothing,” said Alice.

  Jane rolled her eyes. “Yes, when it has style. Unfortunately that doesn’t describe your closet.”

  Louise chuckled. “I am afraid I must agree with Jane on that account, Alice.”

  “Betrayed by my own flesh and blood,” said Alice as Jane shoved her cardigan at her.

  “Come on, let’s get going, sis. Nellie’s had some new fall clothes come in last week. Maybe we’ll get lucky there. Otherwise we’ll have to head over to Potterston.” Jane was literally pushing Alice out the door now. “Anyway, there’s no time to waste.”

  “Have fun,” said Louise.

  To Alice’s surprise, it was not nearly as painful as she had imagined. First they stopped at the Coffee Shop where she and Jane each ordered the special of the day, BLTs with a cup of vegetable soup. Then they headed over to Nellie’s. In no time, Jane had an armload of items and was gently leading Alice toward the dressing room.

  “She’s not much of a shopper,” Jane explained to an amused Nellie.

  “I’ve noticed,” said Nellie.

  Alice waited for Jane to hang the clothing items on the brass hooks.

  “That’s good for starters,” said Jane.

  “Are you going to stay in here and dress me too?” asked Alice.

  “No, I’m going to go look for a few other things.” Jane pulled the curtain closed. “But holler if you need a different size. And don’t you dare take anything off before you let me see it.”

  “What if I hate it?” asked Alice.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” retorted Jane, only half joking.

  Alice could hear Jane and Nellie laughing, and despite her pretense of chagrin, she found herself giggling too. Really, this was not so bad. And Alice admitted to herself that she probably could use something new for church.

  The first outfit was hideous. “I look like an overgrown ANGEL,” said Alice as she stepped out for Jane to see the top and skirt.

  Jane nodded. “Yes, that is a bit young, but it was worth a try.”

  The next one was better, a long-sleeved dress in a becoming shade of blue. “How about this?” asked Alice hopefully.

  Jane added a scarf and belt, but still just frowned. “Too boring,” she finally said. “What was I thinking?”

  Finally, after about a dozen outfits, or so it seemed to Alice, they both agreed on one. “I’m sure this jacket is much too expensive,” said Alice as she fingered the buttery suede. “And it’s not very practical.”

  “Forget practical,” insisted Jane. “Don’t even look at the price. It’s going to be my gift.”

  “But you can’t—”

  “It’s an early birthday present,” said Jane. “You can’t refuse a gift, Alice.”

  “But—”

  “No but’s.” Jane smiled. “That butterscotch color looks so perfect with your hair and complexion, Alice. That jacket is just screaming for you to take it home.”

  Alice turned and admired the jacket in the mirror again. “It is very pretty.”

  “And it’s so nice with that tweed skirt,” said Nellie with approval. “I never thought of putting the two together, but honestly they look like they were made for each other.”

  “I really don’t need to get this sweater,” protested Alice as she opened the jacket to reveal a moss-green turtleneck. “I have a perfectly good brown turtleneck at home that I could wear—”

  “No way,” said Jane. “That color is perfect on you.”

  Alice studied her reflection in the mirror then frowned. “What sort of shoes do you wear with an outfit like this, Jane? Are my loafers okay?”

  Jane looked down at her feet. “Good question. No, your loafers are not okay.” She glanced over at Nellie. “I think this outfit calls for boots, don’t you agree, Nellie?”

  Nellie grinned. “And I just happen to have some that would be perfect.”

  “Boots?” Alice made a face. “I only wear boots when it snows.”

  “I’m not talking about snow boots,” said Jane.

  Before Alice knew what had happened, Nellie was helping her into a pair of smart russet-colored boots. “How do they feel?” asked Nellie.

  “Actually, they’re comfortable.” Alice walked around a bit. “I don’t know why I’ve never considered boots before.”

  “You look wonderful, Alice,” said Nellie as she went to assist a customer who had just entered the store.

  “Go look in the mirror,” Jane said.

  Alice did not know what to think when she saw her reflection this time—the stylish jacket, the flowing skirt and boots. Maybe it was just too much. “Oh, I don’t know, Jane. This really isn’t me.”

  “Just who are you, Alice Howard?” demanded Jane as she crossed her arms in defiance. “You wear your nurse’s uniform to work every day. Then you come home and put on jeans and a shirt. For Sundays you wear skirts and dresses straight out of the seventies. Is that the kind
of fashion statement you really want to make?”

  Alice laughed. “I’m not sure I want to make any sort of fashion statement.”

  “Do you like the outfit?” asked Jane.

  “Of course,” said Alice. “It’s beautiful, but for someone else.”

  “Why for someone else?” asked Jane. “Are you saying you’re not good enough to wear an outfit like this?”

  “Oh, I don’t know….” Alice considered Jane’s challenge. Perhaps it was true.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” Jane stepped closer now, peering into Alice’s eyes. “You don’t think you’re good enough to dress like this, do you? Sure, it’s okay for Louise to wear pearls and cashmere, and you like seeing me in my vintage clothes and funky jewelry. But, you think that you’re some kind of Cinderella.”

  “And that would make you …”

  “Alice! I’m serious. For some reason you don’t think that you’re worthy of wearing nice clothes. I don’t agree. Your clothes should express what a truly wonderful person you are inside.”