Child of Grace

by Hannon, Irene

  “Why don’t you at least eat with us? That would be fun. Right, Luke?” Hannah turned to her brother.

  Luke had not only recovered from his initial surprise, he seemed receptive to the idea.

  More than receptive.

  “Absolutely. In fact, maybe you can recommend a place.” The smile he aimed at her set off a quiver in the pit of her stomach.

  Get a grip, Kelsey. He’s asking advice about a place to eat, not asking you out on a date.

  She tried for a conversational tone. “If you’re after a casual, relaxed atmosphere, Pumpernickel’s downtown is hard to beat. They have a lovely porch, and the cinnamon rolls are great.”

  “Sounds like a winner. Shall we follow you there, or would you like to ride with us?”

  Wait.

  Had she said she was going?

  Not that she recalled—but he was acting as if she had. He’d already linked arms with Hannah and was waiting for her response.

  Well…why not? Pumpernickel’s had fantastic food, and Hannah would be with them. It would be a pleasant, casual breakfast.

  “Follow me, I guess.”

  “Great.” He fell in behind her as she led the way to the parking lot.

  Since Saugatuck was small, the drive took less than five minutes, even with tourist traffic. Finding a parking place, however, wasn’t as easy. She motioned out her window to the restaurant as she passed it, leaving them on their own to locate a spot for their car.

  Ten minutes and three blocks later, she puffed up to the main door on foot to find them waiting for her.

  “You should have ridden with us. Someone was pulling out right in front when we doubled back.” Hannah motioned to Luke’s white rental Camry, ten feet away.

  It figured.

  But driving on her own had felt safer.

  “At least I got my exercise for the day. Shall we go in?”

  Luke held the door, and their chairs, in true Southern gentleman fashion. And the tall, toned, dark-haired doctor drew more than his share of attention from the women customers—as Hannah pointed out.

  “Man, you are getting the once-over from every female in this place.” His sister smirked at him.

  The tips of Luke’s ears reddened—which was kind of cute…and endearing. If he was embarrassed by Hannah’s tease, vanity wasn’t one of his faults.

  “Do you have any brothers, Kelsey?” Hannah spread her napkin on her lap.

  Giving Luke a reprieve, Kelsey directed her attention to the young woman beside her. “No brothers. Just the one older sister I mentioned yesterday. But she gave me two darling nephews and a sweet niece. The boys are six and nine, and Emily is four. She’s a doll. Would you like to see a picture of them?”

  “Sure.”

  As Kelsey searched through her purse for her wallet, the pink in Luke’s ears began to fade.

  “This is my favorite. It’s their family shot from last Christmas.” She flipped through the plastic sleeves and passed her wallet over to Hannah. Luke leaned close to examine it too.

  “They seem like a happy family. Where do they live?” Hannah handed the wallet back.

  “Dallas. That’s where I grew up.”

  “I thought you lived in St. Louis before you came here?” Luke rejoined the conversation.

  “My job took me there.” She tucked the wallet back into her purse.

  Hannah fiddled with the straw in her water glass. “It’s too bad the cousins will live so far from each other.”

  For an instant she froze.

  Truth be told, depending on what she decided, the cousins might never know each other.

  That would be sad—and another perspective she hadn’t yet considered.

  The waitress arrived, saving her from having to respond. But Luke detected her change in mood. Under his surreptitious scrutiny throughout the meal, she picked at her Huevos Pumpernickel, a dish she usually demolished—and tried her best to carry on as if everything was fine.

  Mercifully, the conversation remained on general topics for the rest of the meal. Nevertheless, she counted the minutes until enough ticked by to allow her to leave without appearing rude.

  After taking one last bite of egg, she wiped her lips and used the napkin to hide the substantial amount of food that remained on her plate.

  “I should be off. I have errands to run, including a trip to the grocery store.” She stood.

  Luke rose too. “I thought I’d drop Hannah off at your shop in the morning, on my way to the board meeting. She can check the place out and visit with Ms. Martin. Would nine forty-five be convenient?”

  “That’s fine.” She turned her attention to Hannah. “I told Dorothy about you, and she’s anxious to meet you.”

  “Great. Maybe I can even get her to share those scone recipes.”

  “I have absolute confidence you’ll charm them out of her. Thank you both for inviting me today.”

  “It was our pleasure.” There was warmth in Luke’s eyes—along with questions.

  She tried to ignore both.

  After picking up her purse, she wound through the diners to the street, passing a large table where a group ranging in age from seniors to toddlers was laughing and chatting. Most likely an extended family that had convened in the Saugatuck area for a vacation or a reunion—a common sight around here.

  As she walked past the happy family, one of the young children darted from his seat to chase a wayward fork. Kelsey halted and placed a protective hand on her stomach while the mother apologized and pulled the toddler out of her path.

  The baby kicked under her fingers, perhaps protesting the abrupt stop, and pressure built behind her eyes. Day by day, the child within her grew more active—and assertive. And day by day, her emotional investment in the new life she was carrying intensified.

  Yet Reverend Howard was right. Every child deserved to be cherished with a love that was free of baggage and untainted by bad memories.

  Unfortunately, she had more than her share of both.

  She resumed her trek toward her car, once again wrestling with the questions that plagued her.

  When she held her baby for the first time, would her heart fill with love—or antipathy?

  Would she experience joy and contentment—or be reminded of pain and terror and revulsion?

  Those answers hadn’t come to her. Yet. But she prayed every day for resolution—and for the courage to not only make the right decision, but see it through.

  Wherever that might lead her.

  8

  Luke angled his car into a spot across from Kelsey’s shop, set the brake, and checked the old-fashioned clock that held a place of honor on Douglas’s quaint main thoroughfare. Twelve-fifteen. The board meeting had run a full two hours. Hopefully Hannah hadn’t worn out her welcome—or gotten bored.

  But three minutes later, when he stepped inside the shop, she was bustling around the tearoom helping serve lunch.

  Spotting him, she waved and strode over, the frilly white apron with starched ruffles at the shoulders a tad incongruous over her stone-washed jeans and pink tank top.

  “Hi, Luke. How was the meeting?”

  “It went well.” He swept a hand over her attire. “What’s this all about?”

  She smoothed the crisp white fabric over her jeans. “Dorothy was in a bind. She only has two servers, and one of them quit without any notice this morning. Since she’d just shared her scone recipes with me, I offered to pitch in. Seemed like a fair exchange. And you know what? I’m having a blast!”

  One of the patrons at a nearby table raised her hand, and Hannah called out to her. “I’ll be right with ya’ll.” Then she gave him a hug. “Gotta go. You don’t mind if I hang around here this afternoon, do you? Kelsey said she’d give me a ride home when the shop closes at four. And she said I could sit in on her beginners quilting class at two-thirty.”

  “Sure. That’s fine.” So much for his worries about her being bored during her visit.

  “You want to have lu
nch? The asparagus quiche is to die for, and it comes with lemon scones and a strawberry salad. There’s homemade apple cobbler for dessert too, if you’re still hungry. Warm from the oven—with ice cream.”

  “That sounds great. I’ll stop in and see Kelsey for a minute first, though. Is she here?” He scanned the empty quilt shop.

  “She was.” Hannah perused the room over her shoulder. “But she told me she likes to walk to the lake at lunch. Maybe she went down there. Or she might be in the back room. You can check.”

  Without waiting for a response, she hurried over to the customer who had summoned her.

  Left on his own, Luke strolled into the Not Your Grandmother’s Quilts side of the shop. On his first visit, the discovery that his neighbor was the PR expert recommended by Reverend Howard had distracted him. And she’d whisked him over to Tea for Two before he could browse around her shop.

  As he wandered through the merchandise, the conversation he’d overheard between his sister and Kelsey on the beach Saturday replayed through his mind. Now it was clear what she’d meant when she’d told Hannah she didn’t do country. The quilts on display were more like modern art, featuring swirls of color, geometric patterns, and 3-D designs. That same artsy approach could also be found in the smaller items on display—wall hangings of various sizes, purses, tote bags, table runners, placemats, pot holders, pillow covers. The designs were distinctive and created with impressive flair.

  The shop definitely lived up to its name. These quilts were nothing like the homespun version favored by his Grandma Turner, who’d made a quilt or two in her day. No wonder Hannah had found them appealing—and was interested in taking a class.

  Venturing farther back, he passed the work table he’d spotted on his first visit, and the desk with the computer where Kelsey had been working that day. In the opposite corner, a partly finished quilt in shades of blue, green, and magenta was secured in a stand-alone quilting frame, the intricate design stunning. A swivel lamp was attached to the frame, and an adjustable chair on rollers was pushed underneath. Bolts of fabric were tucked into shelves along the back wall, and two sewing machines stood at the ready.

  She had quite a set-up.

  As Luke finished his tour, the bell over the front door jingled. He angled toward it as Kelsey entered.

  She saw him at once, hesitating for a fraction of a second before she moved into the shop. “Hi. Have you been here long?”

  “Less than five minutes. Sorry I’m so late. The meeting ran long.”

  “No problem.” She deposited her oversized tote—the one Hannah had admired at the beach—on the work table. “Is everything a go?”

  “Yes. Plus, I have other good news. Father Joe met with Steve Lange, who owns the property the board wants for the center, and managed to sweet-talk him into agreeing to sell the land to the youth fellowship for less than its book value and take the rest as a charitable donation.”

  “I have to meet this dynamo padre one of these days.”

  “There’s more. Dennis Lawson, the manager of the hotel where Carlos worked in high school, offered to host the fundraising dinner and auction at cost. And one of the other pastors has an award-winning architect in his congregation who may be willing to comp his design services for the center.” He grinned. “Not bad for a week’s work.”

  She leaned back against the edge of the work table and folded her arms. “That’s an understatement. And Father Joe and his colleagues aren’t the only ones with silver tongues. You roped me into the project too. Quite a feat.”

  “How so?”

  “Long story—and off topic.” She straightened up and got back to business. “Hannah says she’ll bring her computer in here tomorrow and work on the Facebook and Twitter idea, since I have wireless. I’ve also contacted the TV news programs in Holland and Grand Rapids. They sounded interested in doing a story.”

  “You’ve been busy.”

  “That’s not all. I think it would be helpful if you visit the churches involved with the youth fellowship and make a personal pitch. It would probably take you three Sundays to hit them all, but it’s doable if you’re willing. I googled the schedule of services at all of them. Part of your pitch should involve soliciting donations for the dinner auction—and encouraging people to attend. This kind of event can bring in big bucks if enough publicity and support is generated. Are you ready for this afternoon’s interview?”

  Still absorbing her suggestions, he nodded. “I think so.”

  “Did you prepare any talking points?”

  “I thought I’d just answer the reporter’s questions.”

  She gave a definitive shake of her head. “You have to be more proactive. Guide the interview. No matter what you’re asked, no matter what the reporter’s agenda, you have to make certain you get your message out.” She moved over to her desk, plucked up a printed sheet, and handed it to him.

  He skimmed the bullet points. Impressive. In a few lines, she’d captured the key messages he should convey to the media, the congregations, and any other groups he might address. The who, what, when, where, and why were all laid out for him, with suggestions for how to give the story the kind of emotional appeal that would tug at the heartstrings—and persuade people to open their wallets.

  “This is very helpful. Hannah suggested I have lunch at the tearoom, so I’ll study this while I eat and jot down a few notes.” He folded the sheet of paper in half. “I have a feeling you left a big hole in your company when you walked away.”

  She shook her head. “In the corporate world, no one is missed for long. Besides, I prefer to apply my skills to my own business. Although it took a—” She stopped. Straightened a stack of fabric squares beside her. “It took a strong wake-up call for me to realize I’d rather make my mark in my own business than in someone else’s.”

  “What kind of wake-up call?” In light of how skittish and close-mouthed she’d been, asking was a gamble. Yet she’d seemed relaxed around Hannah, shared parts of her history with his sister. Maybe she felt comfortable enough with him by now to answer that question.

  Wrong.

  “A story for another day.” She brushed him off with a wave of her hand and moved on. “Anyway, I’m doing a major overhaul of my grandmother’s website, and I’ll be targeting very specific media with story ideas that should generate orders for the shop. Thanks to my corporate job, I do have a well-developed PR skill set.”

  Fine. If she wanted to stick to business, he’d follow her lead.

  And try not to let it bother him that she was willing to talk to Hannah but not to him.

  “I hear you—but how much can one person produce?”

  “It depends. Custom-designed, hand-sewn quilts like that one”—she waved toward the in-progress blue-and-green number he’d noticed earlier—“are very high-end, very time-consuming…and very expensive. My grandmother used the income from them to supplement her Social Security, but I need to earn a living. So I also do machine-quilted commissions. And I’ve turned many of my designs into smaller items that could even be outsourced and mass-produced.” She pointed to the sheet of paper in his hand. “Now I’d suggest you start prepping. The interview is in an hour and a half. Where are you meeting the reporter?”

  “At St. Francis.”

  “Smart choice. Have him get a few quotes from Father Joe too, if you can.”

  “Luke.” Hannah hissed from between two of the quilts that separated the shops. “Are you eating here or not? We’re down to our last piece of asparagus quiche.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  The quilts fell back into place.

  He refocused on Kelsey. “My sister seems to have made herself at home here. She mentioned sitting in on a quilting class this afternoon.”

  “Yes. It’s a beginner class that will meet every afternoon this week. By Friday, everyone will have designed and stitched a small wall hanging. If she decides to continue to help at Tea for Two, the timing will dovetail. And you won’t have to w
orry about who she’s with—or what she’s doing.”

  “I think I’ve gotten past that.”

  “Hannah will be relieved.” Kelsey’s mouth twitched, drawing his gaze to her lips.

  With an effort, he dragged it back to her eyes. While a hint of wariness continued to lurk in their depths, a flash of humor offered an intriguing—and distracting—peek at her playful side.

  But this line of thought was not going to help him prepare for the interview.

  He lifted his hand and waved the paper. “Wish me luck.”

  “You’ll do fine. Just speak from the heart.”

  “Right.”

  After retracing his steps to the front of the shop, he crossed into Tea for Two and let Hannah show him to a table. As he ate his meal and jotted notes on the sheet Kelsey had prepared for him, he replayed her final instruction in his mind.

  “Speak from the heart.”

  That wouldn’t be easy—but letting Carlos down wasn’t an option. If he had to reach deep for the emotions locked inside, he’d do so. His mission in Michigan mattered too much to let his usual contained manner and self-control get in the way.

  He now had another mission here too—finding out what made his wary neighbor tick.

  But the outcome of that one was far less guaranteed.

  * * *

  “Today was awesome, Luke!”

  As he spread mayo on their turkey sandwiches, Luke gave Hannah a playful nudge while she put the cutlery and condiments on a tray. “My sister, the waitress. And here I thought you wanted to be a lawyer.”

  “Very funny.” She wrinkled her nose and pointed a fork at him. “Dorothy is a peach, and I had fun. Tomorrow she said she’d let me bake a batch of the scones and give me tips along the way.” She set the fork on the table. Paused. “You know, she kind of reminds me of Grandma Turner.”

  “I wish I’d known her better.” But with her living far away during his growing up years, it had been hard to maintain much of a relationship in pre-video-conferencing days.