Merit caught up with Amalia. “Could I have a word with you?”
He watched her look sidelong at the Weavers, who were busy with the garbage bag. Mr. Weaver was gathering the mouth while Mrs. Weaver tied it shut.
“Sure.”
For once no one had invited him to eat with them after the service. Not that he wasn’t grateful. “Lunch at Naomi’s?”
Amalia nodded. “Meet you there in a few minutes.”
Merit thanked the Weavers and headed downtown, feeling as excited and nauseous as if he were on a first date. Or did this count as a second date? Hopefully it would go better than the last time they had dinner alone together. How to proceed?
He met Amalia outside the little restaurant. Once inside, he held out her chair at one of the few open square tables, then settled in across from her, and asked about her bus ride.
“Not too bad. You were already busy enough, and I felt terrible when I realized how much farther it would be to come back for me. Jordyn picked me up at the bus station. Thank you for driving me to Chicago to begin with. Did you have a good visit with your sister?”
Merit stalled. “How’s Bunty?”
Amalia raised a brow, but answered his question. “He seems okay. Everyone is watching him. Marianne helped me fill out the paperwork for foster care.”
Merit should have seen that one coming. He drank from his glass of water to give himself time to think of a response. Amalia studied the double-sided laminated menu with apparent calm. When she looked at him with those incredible blue eyes, he asked, “Are you sure about fostering? You’re not overreacting to his little escapade, are you?”
“I knew I wanted to adopt him before that.”
“Adopt?”
Naomi stopped beside the table, pad ready. “What can I get you?”
After they’d given their orders and Naomi left, Amalia continued. She sat up straight with her hands clasped in front of her on the table. “I had been thinking about it for a long time. I love him. I’ve started the process with some paperwork and a background check. Letters of reference. Even Hudson gave me one.” She grimaced, a fleeting expression that left her face before he could be certain he saw it.
Why would Demarest help her with that? “Bunty has family who wants to care for him.”
She shook her head. “Distant relatives. And, no, they don’t. Not really. His cousin has her own life and soon enough children of her own to care for.”
“What if his parents turn up somewhere? There’s a lot of confusion.”
“Bunty says they died in the landslide.”
“He may not know that for certain.” Merit had to bring up the next point. “You’re not married. That will make it hard to adopt. Or did you change your mind?”
“About what?”
“Getting married?”
Amalia looked startled. Their food arrived, an interruption for which Merit breathed a prayer of thankfulness. Amalia’s answer might not be the one he needed to hear. They had both ordered the roast beef platter with mashed potatoes and late-season green beans. Their plates didn’t match. Merit frowned, wondering why he would notice something silly like that. He glanced around to note that none of the diners seemed to have matching tableware. He must really be uptight. Merit offered grace.
Amalia broke the silence first with a question about Pru.
He didn’t mind the change of subject. He wanted to tell her about Justice and Tom but the public venue wasn’t the most appropriate place. Several parishioners were having their lunch, too. “I do want to tell you about my visit to my sister. Maybe we can take a walk after this delicious lunch?”
Amalia caught his subtle hint immediately. With a quick nod, she agreed.
EIGHTEEN
For the drive after lunch, Amalia got in Merit’s Jeep, which he now owned. They found a quiet bench at Starved Rock Park. The fall colors were a riot of rusty oaks, yellow ashes, and vermillion maple leaves. She took in a lungful of fresh air, rich with composting earth and late blooming asters.
As Merit told her the story of Tom hiding the truth about Justice’s life since he left home, she tried to put herself in his place, to feel what he felt. What emotions came to her heart? Anger? Sadness? How about him? He kept his feelings well hidden. But then, he’d had a little time to digest the information.
She understood about keeping secrets. Many of the clients with whom she worked had something to hide, something to tell her that made her responsible for their dignity in death. She had learned of hidden, rainy-day bank accounts long forgotten, or a piece of jewelry that should go to a favored friend instead of a relative, even a not-before-mentioned first wife. Tom’s secret had been bizarre. She could have understood if Tom had kept his own child a secret—not liked it, but understood. But someone else’s? What did he have to prove? The mess he had inadvertently created in his attempt to do the right thing had hurt everyone. Pru would have been thrilled to know her niece—probably would’ve taken the girl in.
“Pru called last night,” he said. “She couldn’t wait another day and told Tom that he had to at least give her Justice’s address or phone number.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Merit hunched over his knees with his hands locked together. He certainly held his feelings in check better than she would have. “I’m kind of numb, I guess. Like I fell down the stairs, and I’m on the floor, looking up at the top. Tom said he’d tell Justice what he’d done first, then let him decide if he wanted to see us. Tom refused to do anything else at this point.”
“What about the girl?”
“Tom put money away for her and kept in touch with the family, people he knew from the foster system,” Merit said. “He had always known about Justice and Mary. Since they were both in the youth group at church, he didn’t pay too much attention. He figured they needed each other. Justice had some support, and he liked the girl.”
“They did more than offer each other emotional support,” Amalia said.
Merit nodded. “Mary got pregnant. He panicked and confided in Tom, who said he would help. Mary’s parents kicked her out when she told them, and Tom paid for her to go to a place where she could stay and have the baby. They were both so young. Tom said Justice wanted to get married, but Mary refused.”
Amalia sighed. Justice and Mary had been children themselves.
“Tom had copies of both the baby’s birth certificate and Mary’s death certificate.”
“That would explain why he felt the need to watch out for your brother’s child.”
“But not why he wouldn’t trust us and hid the truth.”
“Would Mary’s family have caused trouble?”
“We’ll never know. But why wouldn’t he come to us? We’re his family and would have helped him. We’re all we had left of each other. We needed each other after Mom and Dad and Worth died.”
Amalia remained quiet, allowing Merit space to unburden himself. She gladly offered her shoulder, for she had little else to give. Their quiet spaces remained comfortable without chatter or groundless assurances.
After a moment, Merit told more of the story. “When the doctor couldn’t save Mary, Tom said Justice took off. Tom didn’t know what else to do, but he managed to get the courts to keep the case open. He didn’t want to upset Prudence anymore and I—”
“Went to Nehrangestan to take over for Worth.” Amalia put her hand on his arm. She blinked back tears at the loss of a young woman she would never meet. “No one’s at fault, Merit.”
Merit covered her hand with his. “Pru blamed herself, of course, but with Tricia…she was a brand new baby then… Things took so long. The police had no leads. Now, when I think back about Tom’s role in all this, I’m…stunned. I can’t imagine why he didn’t take the baby home.”
“You all thought something happened to Justice. Tom must have gone along with you, hiding this terrible burden.”
Merit took her hand in his. “You’re right. But he shouldn’t have. When Jus
tice got in touch with him months later, he agreed to leave the baby girl with a family he knew that had been approved for foster placement, but Tom had contact rights and helped out with payments.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m having a hard time forgiving him. Both of them. We should have at least been allowed to raise our niece.”
“That’s a natural thought. I agree. But Tom never said anything to anyone, not even Pru? I’ve had to keep some awful confidences, and I’m sure you have, too.”
“Yes.” He let go of her hand and shifted on the bench. “Other people’s secrets never seemed so real. This is personal.”
“What are you going to do next?”
“Track him down.”
“Can I help?”
The half-smile he gave Amalia foreshadowed his next comment.
“I can’t ask you to get so involved in a personal family matter, Amalia, much as I appreciate it.”
Did he really mean to keep her at arm’s length? Amalia attempted a supportive expression. What did she want? She had bravely told Cherie that she didn’t need to be married to live a full and rewarding life. Boasted to Hudson that she could be a single mother.
But wouldn’t it be so much nicer to be married? Is that what made Justice run away? He had been a kid himself. She had other reasons to question her parenting abilities.
Amalia glanced at Merit. Fidgeted. She’d shared her plans for the future. If he didn’t want her involved in his family, did that mean he didn’t want to be involved with her?
She must have misunderstood when she thought he wanted a relationship with her. For a woman who prided herself on being good with details, she didn’t have a clue what to do next.
Merit turned on the bench so he faced her.
Should she even say anything about what she needed or how she felt? Of course, his revelation about his family saddened her. She wouldn’t add to his emotional upheaval. She couldn’t. “Merit, I…I—”
“I’ve just been informed by the mission board that they have approved my plan for housing missionary families on home assignment. I wanted to thank you for your support, and for all the help you’ve been.”
“Oh, of course. You’re welcome.” So, switching gears. “There’s a lot of work to do before you’ll be ready. Remember, we’re picking out light fixtures next Tuesday.”
She smiled at Merit’s mock grimace. “I never had to deal with that kind of stuff in Nehrangestan. I’m afraid I’m a hopeless decorator.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” If that’s how he needed her, she would do all she could to provide help.
“So much more than that, Amalia. I wish…I wish everything wasn’t so complicated.”
Quick breath. Maybe now? He wanted to talk about feelings? “Like what?”
“Like—”
“Well, well. Hello, there Reverend Campbell. And Amalia. Isn’t it a grand day? Grand. I had to come out to enjoy it, too.” Angus Craig winked at Amalia, and Merit and said, teasing, “And she can tell you I don’t tend to stray all that far from the safe sidewalks of Fox Falls.”
Amalia winced. Oh, she could just cry. Drat that Angus, despite her fondness for him. When she most needed his silence, why did he have to get chatty? She stood, an action that brought Merit to his feet, too. “Angus, well met, sir,” he said.
She loved Merit’s manners, but how come they acted as if they knew each other? Angus had only set foot once in church, as far as she recalled, and it had been months since the program. “It’s true, Mer-Pastor, Angus usually prefers concrete to a wooded path.”
“Ah, but the reverend here has opened my eyes to the riches of God’s creation, he has.”
Amalia realized her mouth hung open when Angus reached a huge hand out to her chin and pushed up. “A pity one so lovely is so easily astounded, is it not, Reverend?”
Amalia blinked and noticed that Merit had folded his arms. “A pity.”
“And you?” Amalia accused Angus. “Nature? God? You never say God without making a joke. What’s going on?”
“Reverend Campbell and I have been getting together once a week or so, to talk.”
Merit—blushing? Amalia lowered her brows and turned to frown at Angus, who raised his great arms to the heavens and stretched. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to walk while I’m here.”
“Angus, wait.” Amalia touched his arm. “You mean you believe in God? Really?”
“I’m getting there. Hard not to, actually. Reverend Campbell, him being a good Scot and all, makes a right proper argument on the side of the Lord. You Irish, on the other hand…”
“Angus,” Merit growled.
“Relax.” Angus grinned and took her arm. “Amalia and I understand each other.” He gave her a squeeze. “Don’t we, love?”
She gulped. “Mostly. But, honestly, Angus, I can’t believe you’d go and make the biggest decision of your life without telling me.”
“I haven’t made it yet. But you’ll be the third one to know if I do, there’s a dear.” He patted her cheek in a way she hated. She frowned, about to berate him when he looked over her shoulder at Merit. Angus dropped her arm. “I see I’ve interrupted you long enough. I’ll just be off. See you folks around. Bye, now. Behave.”
“Angus! Third?” Amalia called after him in a scolding voice. He waved. That man. How could he go and embarrass her like this? Acting as if he’d interrupted a romantic interlude. What would Merit think? But then, if he had a hand in helping Angus come to know the Lord…she could hug him. Oops. Her pastor? Her face felt too warm for her to turn around and let Merit see her yet. She said, with her back toward him, “Is it true, Merit? That you helped Angus? He always showed up at church once in a while before, but I guess I haven’t been paying attention lately.” Of course not, girl, you were too busy staring at the pulpit’s occupant to notice anyone else. For shame. She breathed in the loamy-scented late fall air and turned around.
Merit watched her. He’d shoved his hands in his front pockets. “He’s pretty stubborn, but he listens as much as he talks back. He’s a good man.”
“That he is.” Amalia cocked her head. “You’ve been so good to everyone. We miss Pete and Cherie, of course. God let us have a great minister. And they were caring friends to me. But you…you have different gifts. It’s been wonderful having you here.”
Merit looked at his feet. “Thanks. It feels good. We’d better get back. Oh, before I forget, Prudence is coming here with the kids for Thanksgiving. Tom’s on duty, but told her to come here, because he has next week off. She wanted me to invite you. I’d like you to come. If you want to, that is.”
Amalia wondered if she’d heard correctly. His words seemed didn’t match his red-cheeked expression. She whispered a prayer before speaking. “Tell her thank you for the invitation. I’d like to join you. If you really want me to.”
“I do. Unless you and Dem—”
“No.”
“I’ll drive you back to pick up your car.”
Amalia hurried to catch up with him. He walked as if a wasp harried him. What would he have said if Angus hadn’t interrupted? She felt as though she’d been reading a great story and discovered a key chapter missing.
At least she knew she would see him on Tuesday when they were set to look at light fixtures.
Plans to renovate Merit’s…no, she had to start thinking of him as Pastor Campbell, even in her thoughts…Pastor Campbell’s house were underway. But the work would still take time even with a lot of donated volunteer hours and materials. She enjoyed stopping in whenever she had a break to see the new walls and the new plumbing fixtures going in. Some of the finish work, like painting and papering, she hoped to do herself.
New Life’s new pastor put his heart and soul into the church. Merit—Pastor Campbell—spent long hours getting to know everyone and attending every meeting. She hoped he would not attempt to keep up the grueling schedule, of course, once he had settled in. But he had to keep his own counsel about his workload.
<
br /> * * *
At home the next week, Amalia looked up from the great pile of fallen maple leaves she had raked and ready to bag as a shadow crossed her hands. Amalia pulled the iPod buds from her ears and held a gloved hand over her eyes. “Hello, Hudson. What brings you here?”
“I came to check on you, my dear. You look unsettled. Are you happy? You know I will do anything in my power to see that you are well cared for.”
She got to her feet and brushed hair from her cheeks. “I’m fine, Hudson. You don’t need to be worried about anything. I know how to take care of myself.”
“I will always be concerned about you, Amalia. No matter what happens in your life. You must come to me if you ever are in need. I promised your parents and mine that I would always take care of you, and I will.”
Amalia sighed at her thoughtless response. “I’m sorry. You’re right, of course. I apologize for my rudeness. I’m happy, Hudson. Just worried about Bunty. I talked to Marianne this morning, and she said he caught a cold.”
“All children get colds. You mustn’t upset yourself.”
“I know. I wish I could be with him.”
Uncharacteristically, Hudson hunched and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “You really do love that little boy, don’t you?”
What did he think? She’d never abandon Bunty. He needed her, unlike Hudson. “Yes, of course. It’s not some phase I’m going through.”
“My dear, I would never accuse you of something so distasteful. I also came to tell you that I booked our table for Thanksgiving dinner at Frederick’s.”
Nuts…she forgot. Their complacent relationship seemed so far in the backseat, she hadn’t thought he would miss her company during the holidays. “I’m sorry, Hudson, but I have other plans this year.”
“What do you mean? We always have Thanksgiving dinner together.”
“Not this year. I’m sure you can find someone else to have dinner with.” Amalia immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry again.” She sighed and set her hand on his arm. “I mean, I know there are many who would feel privileged to share the day with you.” Amalia refrained from mentioning all the times she had cleaned up alone after a funeral service, after he had been called out on business. She led him toward the driveway.
The Last Detail Page 18