Heath sent her a grateful glance. They had never really talked much about discipline. She supposed she thought it would be mostly her responsibility, as it always had been. But with a flash of insight, Candace realized that in order for their marriage to be a true partnership, she and Heath would have to begin to make decisions regarding the children together.
“Do you want to build a castle?” Heath asked Howie. “We could show Eason how tall a castle we can build with your new molds.”
Howie's expression was priceless. Clearly, he wanted to hold onto his resentment. But equally clear was his desire to show off his new toys to his friend. After a moment, his normally sunny nature won out, and he said, “Okay.” He scrambled out of the hole and ran to get the sand molds.
“Thank you,” Heath said to Candace in a low voice, as he began to shovel sand to fill the hole. “I don't want to step on your toes—”
“Heath,” she said, “thank you. You saw a problem I didn't and stepped in to correct it. Howie needs to learn that when you speak, it's just like me speaking.”
Heath smiled. Then the smile faded, as he indicated the hole. “This makes me nervous,” he said. “I read an article recently about the surprising number of sand hole and dune collapses where people die. Usually little boys.”
Candace shuddered. “I can imagine it all too easily. No more sand holes for Master Howie.”
The rest of the day was uneventful but fun. Shortly after the sand hole discussion, both families went back to their rooms to clean up and change for dinner.
They dined at a popular pizza spot that the hotel desk clerk recommended, and afterward they played a round of miniature golf at the course next to the pizzeria. Everyone enjoyed themselves, and Candace thought happily that all her misgivings about joint vacations were unfounded.
Tuesday evening at the Bells’ dinner table, Gideon suddenly said, “Dad, I’ve looked at a couple of colleges. The University of Illinois at Chicago is the one that interests me the most. Can we visit it?”
“Sure.” James tried to be nonchalant although he was delighted at Gideon's show of interest. “Do they have an army ROTC program?” He hated to limit Gideon's choices, but the ROTC scholarships were significant, and they probably were Gideon's best chances at scholarship assistance other than financial aid.
Gideon nodded. “So do Chicago State, DePaul, the University of Chicago, and the Illinois Institute of Technology. I checked.”
It didn't escape James's notice that all five of the mentioned schools were in the Chicago area—as was Wheaton College, where Jenni hoped to attend. Now if I could just get him to take his academics more seriously…maybe Jenni's conversation at dinner the other night made an impact. “Have you looked at their entrance requirements?” he asked.
Gideon shook his head. “You mean like grades and SAT scores?”
“Right.”
“No. Want to check it out with me after dinner?”
“Sure thing.” As soon as they finished the meal, Fern enlisted Nelson to help her clean up, freeing James and Gideon to go to the computer.
Much to James's relief, four of the five schools looked as if Gideon might be accepted, if he kept up his grades and got decent SAT scores. Only the University of Chicago was so highly selective that it was not really feasible.
“Seriously? My SATs would probably have to be close to fourteen hundred on the reading and math sections to be competitive? That's crazy.” Gideon sat back away from the computer. He had done reasonably well on his PSATs during his sophomore year, but not well enough that they could expect him to score seven hundred on the separate sections.
“That's competition,” James said. “Fortunately, the other four seem to be much more reasonable.” He cleared his throat. “But if you want to have any shot at all, you’re going to have to buckle down to your studies this coming year and your senior year.”
“I know.” Gideon visibly withdrew, his gaze distant. “I’ll deal with it, Dad.”
“We really need you to, son. We’re going to have a difficult time putting you through school without scholarship aid. ROTC would be a huge help.”
“I could get other scholarships,” Gideon said.
James nodded. “Yes, if you didn't want to go ROTC, you could pursue others. But it's unlikely that you’re going to get significant scholarships that could compare to the ROTC. A full ROTC scholarship would pay your tuition and fees for all four years. And you would get a monthly stipend to help cover room and board. We’d still have some expenses related to that, but it's much more doable with that tuition taken care of.”
“So ROTC is more a requirement than an option,” Gideon said.
“Not necessarily.” James thought his son sounded awfully subdued. “If you wanted to live here and commute to a school close to home, we would save a lot of money, and we probably could swing tuition then. If you really don't want to be in the ROTC program, we’ll find a way to make it work.”
Gideon made a face. “It sure would be nice if we didn't have to worry about money, wouldn't it?”
James couldn't prevent a bark of laughter. “You don't know the half of it, buddy.”
“James Bell!” Fern's voice interrupted them, sounding much more shrill and upset than normal.
James bolted for the kitchen, with Gideon right behind him. His heart rate slowed, as he saw his wife standing by the window looking unharmed. Then he saw the expression on her face.
“What’d I do?” he asked, genuinely bewildered.
Without saying a word, Fern pointed out the window. Gideon brushed past his father, curious to see what had upset his mother. “Holy cow. What's wrong with that squirrel?”
“It tasted the birdseed in the feeder,” Fern said. They all watched, as a squirrel raced up and down a tree trunk, across the ground, and up another only to turn and streak back again. Nelson appeared. He emptied the feeder into a trash bag and refilled it from a newly opened bag. “The seed in the feeder had something on it that's making that squirrel feel bad.”
“It's only temporary, and it won't hurt him.” James hunched his shoulders defensively.
“What’d you do, Dad?” Gideon sounded awed and horrified at the same time, not a compatible combination.
“I put a little capsicum on the seed. It discourages squirrels, but birds can't taste it.”
“Capsicum? That's red pepper, Dad.” Gideon's eyes were wide. “I can't believe you did that.”
“To a defenseless little squirrel.” Fern's arms were crossed, as she glared at him. “I have had enough of this war you’ve got going on with the squirrels.” She turned and made her way to the counter where her handbag lay. Grabbing her wallet, she extracted a bill and extended it to Gideon. “Go buy a bag of sunflower seeds. Those squirrels are going to have a feast tonight.” She turned and shook a finger at James, as if he were an eight-year-old. “No more squirrel wars.”
On the second day after the Mullens joined Heath and Candace, the beach was as idyllic as it had been the first day. Brooke played happily with Violet and Indiana at the edge of the water. Heath and Skip took the little boys out in the water for a while, then came in and relaxed while the boys built another sand castle.
The sun was so warm. Heath was alert, watching the children. Candace felt her eyes closing. She didn't want to fall asleep, but…
“Candace?”
She straightened, realizing Heath had spoken, and she had, indeed, dozed off. “Sorry. What?”
“Do you see Skip or Margie?”
Candace looked around. Brooke was still playing with Violet, but Indiana had joined Eason in jumping waves. Howie was still engrossed in building the perfect castle. But the elder Mullens were nowhere to be seen. She rose and walked down to the edge of the water with Heath. “Eason? Where are your parents?”
The little boy came up on the beach, Indiana splashing up behind him. “They took a walk.” He pointed. “That way.”
Candace felt her mouth fall open. “Thank you.”
She glanced at Heath, and she knew they were thinking the same thing. Neither Eason nor Indiana was old enough to be in the water without adult supervision, although both children swam extremely well for their ages. Indiana was especially impressive. The child was like a fish. Still…
An hour passed. Heath and Candace were both ready to go in. Howie was getting cranky, and Brooke had tried twice to read her book with no success. Even when Candace entertained Violet, Indiana wanted to be right where Brooke was, and she couldn't keep from chattering. But they couldn't just leave the Mullen children.
“I can't believe they would do this,” Heath muttered to Candace, his tone low so the children would not hear him. As the last word left his mouth, Eason gave a shout. “There's my daddy ’n’ mommy.” He sprinted away down the beach, Indiana hot on his heels. Violet began to cry as she realized her siblings had abandoned her.
Margie came rushing up and picked up the sobbing child, rubbing her back. “We’re so sorry,” she said to Candace. “We only intended to go a little way down the beach, but we just lost track of time.” She sighed. “We don't get very many opportunities to do anything just as a couple anymore.”
Candace was still annoyed, but the statement elicited a twinge of sympathy, so her response wasn't as angry as it might have been. “We were very worried,” she said. “Heath stayed in the water with the kids for a long time, and Brooke deserves a medal for entertaining Violet for so long.”
“You all deserve medals for taking care of our kids. We’ll make it up to you,” Margie promised. She glanced over at Brooke, who was watching them with wary eyes. “How does ice cream after dinner sound?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
ANABELLE HAD TRADED WITH ANOTHER NURSE, so she had Thursday off this week. On Tuesday evening, she had called Edith Phast and asked if she could visit. Edith wasn't very receptive, until Anabelle explained that she was a nurse at Hope Haven. Then, as if that were the magic key that unlocked the door, Edith couldn't invite her fast enough.
At six the next evening, Anabelle knocked on Em Palmer's sister's door.
A taller, more disheveled version of Em answered the door of the large brick home. “Anabelle? Please come in.” Edith led the way to a formal living room with a baby grand piano. As Edith offered her coffee and excused herself to get it, Anabelle looked at what she could see of the lavishly appointed home and decided either both sisters had married extremely well, or they had family money of their own.
Edith returned moments later with nothing less than a full silver coffee service, which she set on the coffee table between them. “There,” she said. “Have a cookie.”
Anabelle smiled, surveying the colorful sugar cookies with maraschino cherries pressed into the center. “I shouldn’t, but those look delicious. Did you make them?”
Edith nodded. “They’re called Cherry Wink cookies. My mother used to make them.”
Anabelle realized that here was the perfect opening to ease into a discussion about the two sisters. She picked one up and took a dainty bite. “Mmm. Delicious. Does your sister also make these? I may have to beg her to make some for the Christmas bake sale.”
“Yes.” Edith nodded, a shadow crossing her face. “At least, she used to. I don't know what she might be making these days.”
Anabelle regarded her sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I understand you two had a falling out.”
“Two years ago.” Edith looked down at her plate. “Did she tell you that?”
Anabelle nodded. No need to mention that she’d first heard the story through the exceptionally active Deerford grapevine.
“How is she?” Edith looked across the table at her, but Anabelle couldn't read her expression.
“She's well.” She took a deep breath. “Very sad about your estrangement. She misses you.”
“She does?” Edith leaned forward. “How do you know?”
“She told me,” Anabelle said simply. “She regrets the words that started the trouble and the distance between you.”
Edith was silent, and Anabelle's heart sank. Em was going to be very distressed if her sibling rejected the olive branch Anabelle was extending on her behalf.
“I miss her,” Edith said softly. “I regret it too.” She made a sound of self-derision. “I can be such a know-it-all sometimes.”
Anabelle regarded her with sympathy and said, “That's one of my worst failings. I can't tell you all the times I wish I could take back my words.”
“I know that feeling,” Edith said wryly. Her eyes softened. “Em was my best friend. It broke my heart when we fought. And when I called, she wouldn't take my calls for a whole week… so I never called again.” Her next words came out in a rush. “Do you think she misses me?”
“I know she does.” Anabelle realized her first words hadn't really gotten through. “She told me how sorry she is about the rift between you.”
“Then why didn't she get in touch?” Edith asked. The question wasn't angry but anguished.
“She's afraid. Just as I suspect you are.” Impulsively, Anabelle asked, “If Em agrees, would you want to meet at my home tomorrow afternoon to talk to her?”
Edith's eyes lit up instantly. “Of course.” Then she subsided like a balloon losing its air. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”
“I believe she will. I’ll check with her and call you when I get home.”
Her errand concluded, Anabelle visited a little longer with Edith Phast before taking her leave for the drive back to Deerford. The moment she got home, she looked up Em Palmer's number and called her to extend the same invitation she’d offered Edith.
“She wants to talk to me?” Em sounded stunned. “Really?”
“Really. Are you available late tomorrow afternoon, say four o’clock? I invited Edith to come to my home then. She's willing if you are.”
“I am. I can make it then.” Em began to cry. “Oh, Anabelle, I hope we’re able to get past our differences. It would mean so much to me.”
The moment the conversation concluded, Anabelle called Penny.
When the other woman answered, Anabelle didn't even identify herself. “Guess what? Em Palmer's sister agreed to meet with her!”
“Oh, Anabelle, that's wonderful news.” Penny's tone was genuinely pleased. “Even if we don't get the Quest for Excellence Award, it will have been worth it to reunite them.”
“Do you think we can't win?” Another thought occurred to Anabelle. “The dossier was due yesterday, wasn't it? Oh, Penny, I’m sorry. I should have helped—”
“Anabelle, stop.” Penny sounded amused. “Gracious. I never met anyone who could grab a conversational ball and run with it like you can. I got the whole packet reviewed over the weekend, and I overnighted it on Monday. I got a confirmation notice that they received it on Tuesday.”
Anabelle put a hand to her heart, which was still pounding. “That's the best news I’ve had all day. Well, except for meeting Em's sister and finding out she wants to reconcile too.”
Anabelle's doorbell rang promptly at four on Thursday afternoon. She knew it was Em Palmer, because she had been looking out an upstairs window when the dark colored sedan pulled in to her driveway.
She wiped her damp palms on her slacks, as she hurried down the stairs to the door. She got there so fast, she had to wait for the doorbell to ring and then count to ten beneath her breath.
“Hello, Em,” she said when she finally opened the door. “Please come in.”
“Thank you.” Em wore a pretty blue summer shirtdress. Her belt, purse, and sandals all matched, and her voice was soft and hesitant. “Do you really think Edith will come?”
“I think so. I guess we’ll know in a few minutes,” Anabelle said pragmatically. She showed her guest into the living room and asked, “Would you like something to drink?”
She had just handed Em a glass of lemonade, when the doorbell rang again. Em put a hand to her throat, and Anabelle sent her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back in a moment.” Emmaline gulped
and nodded.
Once again, Anabelle opened the front door. She nearly gasped when she saw Edith Phast. Edith was dressed almost exactly like her sister, except in different shades. Her dress was a soft coral and her accessories were white rather than the butter shade Em's were. “Hello, Edith. Please come in.”
Edith looked as nervous as her sister. “Is she here?” she asked in a stage whisper. “I saw another car, but I didn't recognize it.”
Anabelle nodded. “She's waiting in the living room.” She paused. “You two aren't twins, are you?”
Edith smiled. “No, I’m a year older. But we’ve been mistaken for twins all our lives.”
“I can see why.” Anabelle led the way to the living room and stepped to one side when they reached the doorway.
Edith's shoulders rose and fell, as she took a deep breath. She stepped into the room. “Hello, Emmy.”
“Edith.” She was enveloped in a whirlwind of blue. “I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much. I want to apologize for everything I—”
“No. Stop.” Edith clutched her sister's shoulders. “First, just stand still so I can look at you.” Anabelle, who had moved farther into the room, saw her features soften. “I’ve missed you too. So much.” She folded Em into a warm embrace. “But I’m not having you apologize to me when I was the pigheaded big-mouth who had to have the last word.”
Em's mouth fell open, as the sisters pulled back to look at each other again. “I can't believe you just said that.” She started to laugh. “I was about to say the exact same thing.”
“People always did say we had a weird connection,” Edith reminded her.
Anabelle, forgotten in the excitement of the moment, couldn't prevent the bubble of joy that welled up within her. It had been worth every moment of the stress and worry of dealing with that dossier to see a reunion like this.
The unfortunate incident from the previous day's beach excursion had been forgiven if not forgotten. The Mullens, Heath and Candace, and the children had gone out to an early dinner and then had taken a trolley tour. All of the children's eyes had been drooping by nine in the evening, and the four adults weren't in much better shape, so everyone had retired early.
Special Blessings Page 19
