by Merry Farmer
“Andrew, hush!” This time Wren went so far as to smack her brother’s arm. The gesture did nothing to help her attempt to appear as a ‘mature lady.’
Andrew wasn’t deterred. “You’ll have to forgive them their mischief. They all consider themselves fully-grown women now, ready to make their marks on the world. We’d better watch out. There’s no telling what they’ll do now.”
“I’ll be careful.” Jamie played along with mock seriousness.
“We’re actually quite well-behaved,” Wren defended them with an attempt at cool dignity.
“I’ve no doubt you are,” Jamie replied with a half bow to Wren.
As he rose, he dared to wink at her again. Wren caught her breath, turning pink and pleased for a moment before forcing her face to a frown.
Louisa blinked, wondering if Andrew’s friend was making fun of them. Heaven knew he wouldn’t be the first one. Andrew had told his friend about their cycling exploits, but she doubted he had mentioned the strange looks people gave them or the whispers about “those Swedenborgian girls” as they passed. Gayle didn’t care what people said, and Wren didn’t think much of anyone who would snub them for their beliefs, but Louisa just wanted to feel normal.
“Playing badminton?” Andrew changed the subject, snatching the racquet out of his sister’s hands when her guard was down.
“We were until you came along,” Wren said. Still sore from his teasing, she crossed her arms and turned away from her brother with a deliberate sniff.
Gayle laughed at Wren’s theatrics. Even Rowan cracked a smile and shook his head. But when Wren realized Jamie was laughing too, she dropped her act and her eyes.
“Were you losing?” Andrew asked Louisa with a sympathetic grin.
Something about that grin, the way it invited confidence and showed pity, reminded Louisa of the monster of worry that sat on her heart.
“No, actually, Gayle and I were winning.” The words came out sounding overly offended and she winced.
She knew that Andrew had caught every nuance of her mood when he said, “I’m sorry. It’s just that you look a little put out.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Are they teasing you? Do you need me to put someone’s eye out for you? I’m armed now.” He wielded the badminton racquet.
It would have been amusing, if Louisa hadn’t felt so bashful over his attention.
“I’m fine.” Louisa forced herself to perk up and smile. She turned her large brown eyes to him and hoped her smile didn’t come off as gritting her teeth. Even though she was. “In fact, I’m sure I could best you in a heartbeat.”
Andrew’s smile widened and his brow shot up at the challenge. “You think you can beat me?”
“Oh, I know I can.”
It was a childish outburst, especially at a time when circumstances were forcing her to grow up, but Andrew laughed. For the first time in weeks, Louisa’s heart felt light. Andrew did that for her. She could afford one more day of childhood before life caught up with her.
Andrew strode past her, ducking under the net, then turning and walking backward, pointing his racquet at her. “I challenge you to a duel, my lady. I’ll even let you serve first.”
As odd as it was, his friendly banter and the glint in his eyes made Louisa feel better, bolder. “You’ll regret it, Andrew McBride.”
Feet nimble with expectation, Louisa scurried into place across the net. Andrew tucked the racquet under his arm to roll up the sleeves of his white shirt. As soon as Louisa saw the tanned muscles of Andrew’s arms she wondered if she would be the one to regret the challenge. Andrew worked as a fisherman, even though his family had enough money that he would never have to work if he didn’t want to. He hauled nets and steered a boat all day for the love of it. He was the most athletic man she knew. He would crush her.
She secured her glasses and gripped her racquet with sweating palms.
Gayle skipped over to her, grass-stained skirts swirling, and pressed the shuttlecock into her hand.
“Give him a good thrashing for the girls,” she whispered before running back to the sidelines.
Gayle took her place by Wren’s side, Rowan standing between his sister and Jamie. They were about to watch her be thrashed, she was certain of it.
“You can do it, Lou,” Gayle shouted.
Louisa took a deep breath. If only they knew. She had nothing to her name but her pride, and now that looked like it was going to take a hit.
Her eyes flickered across the net to where Andrew stood, legs apart, dancing on the balls of his feet, ready to play. She’d known him as long as she could remember, and she couldn’t remember him losing any sort of game. Ever. She took another deep breath and held the shuttlecock out in front of her. The only way to salvage her pride was to pray for a small miracle.
She let go and smacked the shuttlecock for all she was worth, sending it sailing over the net with precision. As she’d expected, Andrew returned it with ease. She ran, ignoring her long skirts, and managed to connect, sending a tight, straight shot right at him. Andrew scrambled backward to hit it and lobbed it high over the net. Louisa wheeled back, reaching above her head to pummel the shuttlecock with all her strength.
It zipped across the net. Andrew reached for it and missed. Louisa’s eyes flew wide. Wren and Gayle erupted into shouts of triumph and applause.
Andrew laughed as he dashed to pick up the shuttlecock.
“Not bad,” he nodded to her over the net. “I may have underestimated you after all.”
She would have been fine if he hadn’t followed up his comment with a wink. No man had ever winked at her. She was so startled that when he served she was flustered and had to reach with a gasp as the shuttlecock sped toward her. Her return shot veered far off course and out of bounds.
Wren and Gayle groaned on her behalf as Jamie applauded for Andrew and Rowan shook his head. As Andrew retrieved the shuttlecock, Louisa sucked in a breath and scolded herself. Focus. Work hard. Win. They were the only things she could do.
Andrew had just tossed the shuttlecock back over the net to her when a bell rang out from the lawn on the other side of the house.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Rev. McBride’s deep voice boomed from the porch around the corner of the house. “Could we please gather on the front lawn for a few words and a prayer?”
The bell continued ringing and Louisa glanced back over the net as Andrew ducked under and jogged to her side.
“Looks like we’ll have to postpone the rest of the game.” He grinned.
“Just remember that we’re tied, one all,” she agreed.
He held out his hand as if to shake hers, but instead of taking it, Louisa handed him her racquet. Their hands brushed and the tickling feeling of uncertainty flooded her again. Would Andrew still want to play with her if he knew the calluses on her fingers were from the work that filled her spare time?
She turned away and busied herself shaking out her skirts to dislodge a stray blade of grass. Gayle and Wren skipped over and each grabbed one of her arms. Would her wealthy friends be so quick to embrace her if they knew how old her shoes were, or how many holes she had in her stockings?
“Father wants our help handing out the gifts,” Wren explained as they rounded the corner of the house, the boys following. A long table of small gifts wrapped in white tissue paper and tied with red ribbons rested in the sunlight near the foot of the steps leading to the porch. “I told him we’re getting too old to be angels, but that we’d do it this one last time.”
“I’m glad you did.” Gayle beamed, dropping Louisa’s arm and rushing forward to the table. “I love being an angel.”
“What are the gifts for?” Jamie asked.
“They’re for the Church’s birthday,” Rowan explained.
“That’s today,” Andrew added, “June Nineteenth.”
“I’ve never heard of a church that had a birthday before,” Jamie went on.
Wren blinked. “You’re not Swedenborgian?” She seemed stricken by
that somehow.
“No,” he laughed. “I was raised Catholic.”
“Today is a very special day for us,” Andrew explained.
“We’re Swedenborgian,” Wren said, frowning at Jamie as if he had somehow disappointed her. “Our church believes in the Word, what you call the Bible, and in the revelation given to Emanuel Swedenborg, which he wrote down in books that we call the Writings.”
“I see,” Jamie said. “Andrew has told me quite a bit about your Swedenborg. He sounds like an amazing man.”
“He was,” Wren snapped, on the defensive.
Louisa stared at her friend with narrowed eyes, no idea what had suddenly gotten Wren’s back up. She could have sworn that Wren liked Jamie, had her head turned by him, even. How could he have offended her?
“Are you interested in the Swedenborgian Church?” Louisa asked Jamie.
“Well,” Jamie replied, “it is very interesting. I couldn’t say no when Andrew invited me to the picnic.”
Louisa didn’t have time to ask more. Several bright-eyed children were already gathering in front of the table of gifts as their parents came to stand together around the porch. As Louisa and her friends reached the porch, Gayle bent over to hug tiny Hannah McBride, who glanced up at her with wide-eyed admiration.
Andrew, Rowan, and Jamie stopped on the lawn a few yards away from the porch while Louisa, Wren, and Gayle continued up to the table. Andrew and Jamie put their heads together, whispering as they watched the girls. Louisa’s cheeks burned and she snapped her head forward to the stairs where Rev. McBride stood.
“Hello, friends,” Rev. McBride greeted the assembled congregation with a wide smile.
Mrs. McBride stood at the top of the stairs with a smile to match her husband’s. She was the only McBride who wasn’t at least a few inches taller than everyone else. Rev. McBride glanced up at her as if for support as he went on.
“Welcome to our home on this beautiful June Nineteenth. Today we celebrate the Second Coming of the Lord and the birth of His New Church. With happy hearts we embrace His Word, and together we seek to live a life in His Good and Truth as brought to us by his servant Emanuel Swedenborg.”
A burst of anxiety made Louisa glance sideways at Jamie to see what he thought of Rev. McBride’s words. She knew she shouldn’t be sensitive about what others thought of the Swedenborgian Church and it’s new ideas, but old habits died hard. Jamie listened with interest.
Her eyes slid past Jamie to Andrew. He was watching her, his sea-blue eyes concerned. She swallowed and forced her attention back to the speech.
“We are a new society,” Rev. McBride continued, “and new societies have so much to be thankful for. We need to be thankful that seventeen families here on Cape Ann have been introduced to the Truths of the Word in the last decade, so many that we felt the need to form our own group instead of making the trip into Boston each Sunday. So many that we have outgrown the Clevelands’ barn.”
His comment earned a flurry of laughter and murmurs, and a modest wave from Mr. Cleveland, who stood watching with his family.
“I have good news for you,” Rev. McBride went on.
The murmurs turned to hopeful chatter.
Rev. McBride sent his wife an excited grin before continuing. “Today I am proud to announce that the fund-raising efforts of our fledgling society have borne fruit. We have been able to purchase a property on which to build a new, larger chapel to house our church family.”
A cheer and applause rose from the assembled congregation. Even Louisa’s heart felt lighter for a moment and she clapped along with everyone else, exchanging smiles with her friends. Her eyes strayed over to where Andrew stood with his brother and his friend, and again he was watching her, smiling. Their eyes held for a moment before he glanced on to his father.
“It may surprise you to learn,” Rev. McBride went on, “that the site we have purchased is in view of the house where you all stand now.”
He gestured across the beach to the lighthouse that stood on the solid outcrop of rocks opposite Cliff House, about half a mile down the beach.
“We have purchased the lighthouse.” A delighted, and confused, gasp swelled from the congregation. “The church council and I have already consulted an architect on the refurbishment of the old lighthouse and its transformation into a chapel. I can assure you that the plans are sound and that the existing structure can be modified to create a place of worship. The promontory where the lighthouse stands is on solid ground and protected from storms. Granted, some demolition work will have to be done first, but the same can be said for all of our lives.” His comment was met by laughter of agreement. “What better building to modify into a chapel than a structure that stands as a beacon of hope and guidance.”
“Oh, and I bet you’ll be able to hear the waves against the rocks during sermons too,” Gayle added in a whisper, taking her friends’ arms in hers and squeezing them. “It’ll be so beautiful.”
“What if it isn’t safe from storms after all?” Louisa wondered aloud.
Her question went unanswered as Rev. McBride went on. “I’m sure that everyone in our society will want to contribute to the new chapel, whether it be a contribution of money, materials, or time.”
The coil of worry in Louisa’s stomach tightened until her breath caught in her chest.
“We will start with work parties to demolish the older parts of the lighthouse. The first will be this Saturday. Please see myself or my son, Rowan, after the picnic if you would like to help.”
Rev. McBride smiled and glanced down to his clasped hands for a moment, giving Louisa an impression of the shrewd businessman he had been before becoming a minister.
“It’s only fitting that we begin the work of building up by first tearing down, just as we must first cease to do evil in our lives before we can build up goods in our hearts.”
His words were greeted by more murmurs of agreement. Louisa smiled and took a deep breath to chase away the worry that wouldn’t leave her. She turned once again to look at the boys. Andrew was busy offering his help to Rowan, who wore the solid look of a man comfortable with being in charge. At least something was stable in this world.
“In the meantime, while the demolition begins,” Rev. McBride went on, “we need the clever and talented women of our society to contribute crafts and baked goods to the booth our Church will set up in town for the Fourth of July festivities in a couple of weeks. Your contributions, dear ladies, will help raise the funds necessary to build our chapel and our congregation. I’m sure you will all have the most beautiful treasures to contribute.”
Louisa bit her lip. She wanted more than anything to help the church. She was sure that she could sew a few small items for the booth, if only she had time. As it was, it would be a challenge making excuses to her friends about why she couldn’t spend as many afternoons with them this summer. Her mother had a pile of work to be done—necessary work.
“Now if you would all bow your heads and join me in a prayer for our society and the work ahead of us.”
Louisa bowed her head and folded her hands and tried her best to pay attention as Rev. McBride lead them in the Lord’s Prayer. The chorus of voices praying together, mingled with the sighing of the waves on the beach below them, filled her with calm.
She wished finding calm wasn’t such hard work. Life had been so much easier when Father was still alive, when they could rely on his strength and protection. No one knew that he had left them so little, that his savings had been gone before he was. Her mother hadn’t told a soul—not even Rev. McBride—how hard their struggle was, and she couldn’t possibly break the confidence her mother chose to keep.
Even if it meant she now spent lonely hours in the cramped workroom at the back of their tiny house, finishing the work that her mother brought home from the shop she trudged off to every day. Even if it meant she had to find newer and more creative ways of disguising her same old dresses with new trimming to hide the fact that she could
n’t afford anything truly new. Even if it meant pretending she had a headache so that they wouldn’t be suspicious when she sent word that she couldn’t join them on a bicycle ride or for a picnic. She prayed that something would change, that something would happen to reverse the downward slide of their fortunes. Something had to happen. Soon.
“Amen.”
She spoke the word in unison with her friends and raised her head with a sigh. Mrs. McBride moved from the top of the steps to her husband’s side. “We have gifts from the Church for the children right here beside the porch. If we could have the littlest ones come forward first with their parents, and then the older children.”
“Come on,” Gayle gave her friends’ arms a squeeze and skipped ahead of them to take her place behind the table of presents.
Louisa couldn’t help but smile. Everything was fun to Gayle. She would probably think that endless embroidery was a cheerful game. Louisa took up her post beside the table, glad that she could at least be generous on behalf of the Church.
As she crouched to hand a soft, bulky present to a little boy, just barely able to walk, her eyes travelled up to the men again. Several more young men of the society, including C.J. Wick and her own brother, Henry, had approached Rowan and were offering their services at the lighthouse. Louisa fought the urge to frown at her brother. He was just barely home for the summer from school in Philadelphia. Supposedly, he had a job for the summer to help pay his tuition. When would he have time to help with the construction?
No, she told herself, she couldn’t be upset with him for doing what she couldn’t. He would find time to work and volunteer at the church. Andrew had a full time job and he was in the thick of the men offering their help. She sighed again and forced herself to pay attention to handing out gifts. If Andrew and her brother could find time to help the church in spite of their other obligations, then so could she. She would work and volunteer, even if it killed her.
