Alice sniffed and nodded. “Yes, I was just thinking that same thing a few minutes ago. I can’t figure out how it happened so quickly. Doesn’t it seem like only yesterday that we were playing house in the backyard? Fixing tea parties for our dolls and making kites out of newspaper and string?”
Louise nodded. “It seems those memories from my childhood grow more vivid with each passing year. We had a lovely childhood, didn’t we, Alice? Other than losing Mother, that is. Other than that, it was nice, wasn’t it?”
“It was.” Alice reached down and picked up Louise’s tapestry bag. “Everything happened so fast that I haven’t had a chance to do much more than freshen the sheets on your bed. I’m afraid it’s a little dusty up there. I did open the window to air it out a bit.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll just make myself at home and clean anything as needed. I certainly don’t expect you to be my maid. Goodness knows you’ve probably been terribly busy what with making arrangements and all. There are so many decisions to make. It wasn’t too many years ago that I had to do all this for Eliot. How are you holding up, dear?”
Alice shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I mean, it’s still just sinking in. I can’t quite believe he’s really gone.”
“I know.” Louise sadly shook her head. “Father was such a rock, like an institution in this town … I’m sure I thought he would simply live on and on forever—on earth I mean. Of course, I realize that he’s alive in heaven right now. That’s some comfort, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I still miss him.”
“I’m sure you do, dear.” Louise reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. “At least you got to enjoy his final years with him. Now that’s something, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I don’t regret that at all.” Alice dabbed at her eyes again. “Do you have more bags in the car, Louise?”
“Yes. Just one, but it’s a little heavy.”
Squaring her shoulders, Alice stood straighter. “No problem. If I can still hoist a two-hundred-pound patient, I’m sure I can handle your bag. Why don’t you go get yourself settled, and I’ll go get it for you.”
“Thank you, dear.” Louise handed her the car keys.
Alice went out to see Louise’s car parked in front. It was the same white Cadillac she’d been driving for more than two decades, yet it still looked in perfect condition. It wasn’t old enough to be an antique yet, but perhaps in time. It was comforting the way some things always stayed the same. Louise seemed like that, unchangeable, unflappable, predictable and dependable. Alice felt relieved that her sister was here. She opened the trunk and retrieved the large bag and wheeled it up the walk to the house. It didn’t seem so terribly heavy at first, but by the time she’d lugged it up the stairs she was breathing harder.
“I’m in here, dear,” called Louise from her old bedroom.
Alice paused to catch her breath, then wheeled the bag into Louise’s room. “Everything okay in here?”
“It’s wonderful—just the same as ever. I’m so glad you didn’t change a thing.”
Alice wiped her finger through the dust on the dresser and frowned. “Not even the dust.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll get rid of that in no time.” Louise removed several prescription bottles and set them down on the dresser. “My doctor has me taking all sorts of pills these days—some for my bones and my blood pressure and goodness knows what else.”
Alice smiled. “Guess that’s what happens when we get old. I used to have the hardest time getting Father to take his pills regularly. He was always forgetting. Finally I made him start using one of those boxes with all the days of the week on it.”
“I’ve been meaning to get one of those for myself.”
“Well, don’t bother. You can have his—” Suddenly Alice began to tear up again.
“I’m sorry, dear.” Louise came over and put an arm around her shoulders. “This has really been hard on you, hasn’t it?”
Alice nodded. “I’d better go see to some things in the kitchen, Louise. I’m sure you’ll be hungry for dinner soon.”
“Do you know when Jane will arrive?”
“She can’t get a flight out of San Francisco until tomorrow.”
Louise smiled. “Oh, I can’t wait to see her! How is she doing? Did she say much about the restaurant?”
“Not really. It was a quick conversation. We can catch up when she gets here. I think she said that her flight would arrive by tomorrow afternoon, around five.”
“It’s just like a family reunion, isn’t it?”
“Sort of.” Alice hesitated, and then added in a quavering voice, “Except for Father.”
Louise nodded. “Well, he’s here in spirit, Alice. I’m sure he’s smiling down on us right now, happy to see us back together again.”
“Yes. I’m sure he is.” Even so, Alice thought it would have been nicer if Father had been here with them, in person.
Chapter Three
After a quiet breakfast with Louise the next morning, Alice spent several hours straightening and organizing the kitchen while Louise made some phone calls. Alice enjoyed the distraction and hoped to get the kitchen whipped into shape before the day became too busy. She remembered how fastidious Jane was about cooking spaces, and Alice feared that she had allowed theirs to get a bit shabby lately. It wasn’t completely her fault, because Father often shooed her off to work in the mornings, assuring her that he would clean up their breakfast things. But his ideas of cleaning weren’t always the same as hers. Still, she had always appreciated his willingness to help out and never would have dreamed of criticizing. It usually turned out that by the time she came home to fix dinner, she was often tired or in a hurry to get to a meeting, and, well, sometimes things just went undone.
She’d been a bit embarrassed yesterday when the first of the women had started slipping food items into their ancient refrigerator. It hadn’t been thoroughly wiped down in ages. She supposed she should have been better prepared, knowing how the women at Grace Chapel always reacted like this whenever someone in their congregation passed away. It was as if they derived a sense of comfort and well-being as they carefully prepared their casseroles, baked goods and gelatin salads for the grieving family. They were probably also relieved not to be the ones on the receiving end. Alice knew that feeling from personal experience. Her standard contribution at times of bereavement was usually macaroni salad. How many times had she concocted that salad, thankful that she had escaped being the recipient of the culinary gifts? Well, no one could escape it forever.
By noon, Alice decided to call it good in the kitchen. She pulled out several of the prepared dishes from the refrigerator and attempted to set the table for a simple lunch.
“Yoo-hoo!” called a shrill voice from the front foyer. “Alice, are you here?”
“I’m in the kitchen, Aunt Ethel,” Alice called out. “Coming.”
Alice met Aunt Ethel in the dining room. Her aunt smiled brightly as she held out a large glass baking dish covered in aluminum foil. “I saw Fred in the hardware store and he asked me to drop this apple cobbler by. Vera baked it early this morning but didn’t have time to bring it by before school started.”
The smell of cinnamon wafted up as Alice took the heavy dish from her aunt. “How sweet of her. Thank you for bringing it by.”
“Is that Louise’s car parked out front?” asked Ethel as she pushed open the swinging doors to the kitchen and peered curiously about.
“Yes, she arrived last night.”
“Oh, goody.” Aunt Ethel clapped her hands like a little girl. “Where is she now?”
“I believe she’s in her room.”
“Well, I’ll just run up and say a quick hello.”
Alice smiled to herself as she wondered if Aunt Ethel had ever said a “quick” hello. She set the cobbler on the butcher-block counter and finished working on her lunch preparations.
“Hello in the house,” called another female voice. This time it came from the back p
orch.
“Hope,” Alice exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to find you on my back porch.”
Hope Collins smiled sadly. “We heard the news about Pastor Daniel yesterday. We all felt so bad down at the Coffee Shop that we decided to send over his favorite treat.”
Alice nodded. “Blackberry pie.”
Hope handed her the still warm pie. “I’m sure you’ve been deluged with food already.”
“But no blackberry pie.”
“Well, it’s just our way of saying how much we loved that man.” Hope wiped a tear that left a dark mascara smudge on her cheek.
Alice gave Hope’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Father really enjoyed his little visits with you at the Coffee Shop.”
Hope shook her head. “Not nearly as much as I did. I’m sure going to miss him.”
Alice sighed. “I miss him too, Hope. I mean I realize that Father was quite old and I know he was ready to go at anytime, but I still can’t completely believe he’s gone. Even this morning I got up and started to make him a pot of coffee.”
“I know what you mean. Yesterday afternoon, when it got to the time he usually dropped by, I had to remind myself he wasn’t coming in. It’s odd. Just this week he gave me a little book to read about faith growing in times of trial. I was too busy to get to it before, but I’ll make sure I do now.”
Alice remembered how Father had asked her to pray for Hope. He believed she had a genuinely searching heart. “Well, if you ever want to talk about the book with someone …” Alice smiled hopefully. “I’d be happy to do that with you.”
“Oh, that would be so nice. Maybe you could stop in, and we could discuss it.”
“Yes, definitely. I’ll plan on it.”
Hope pushed a stray lock of light brown hair from her eyes. “I better be getting back now. I promised to only be gone a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Hope. For everything.”
Alice could hear Louise and Aunt Ethel talking as she went back into the house. Aunt Ethel was already filling Louise in on all the latest Acorn Hill gossip. “And you remember Lloyd Tynan, don’t you? I think he was a few years ahead of you in school. Well, maybe you hadn’t heard that he’s the mayor now, he retired from his business a few years back and then decided he could do a far better job of running this town than old Billy Thorpe. Billy was a big talker, but lazier than all get out.” Aunt Ethel paused for a breath when Alice walked in.
“Alice,” said Louise with what appeared to be sincere relief, “who was at the door?”
“That was Hope from the Coffee Shop. She dropped by a blackberry pie, Father’s favorite.”
“Did I notice you fixing some lunch?” asked Aunt Ethel.
“Yes.” Alice smiled ruefully at Louise. “Would you like to join us?”
Naturally, Aunt Ethel would like nothing better. After a light lunch, while Aunt Ethel and Louise continued to visit, Alice busied herself by mixing up some hand-squeezed lemonade. Father had always enjoyed a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a hot afternoon, and according to the thermometer, just outside the kitchen window, it was nearly eighty degrees already.
She was just stirring in the sugar when Louise popped into the kitchen.
“Why, Alice Christine, is that homemade lemonade you’ve got there?” asked Louise.
Alice nodded as she proudly held out the pitcher. “Yep. Just what the doctor ordered.”
Aunt Ethel slipped in behind Louise now. “Why, that sounds perfectly lovely, Alice.” Then she took Louise by the arm. “And it’s a perfectly lovely day for it. Why don’t we enjoy it out on the front porch.”
Alice took her time filling the tall glasses with ice cubes and lemonade, arranging them on the tray with dainty pink napkins and a small plate of the sugar cookies that Patsy Ley had dropped by earlier. Patsy’s husband Henry was the associate pastor at Grace Chapel, but why Father had ever hired the soft-spoken man was something of a mystery. Henry had a good heart and was a natural listener, but because of his stammering speech, he found preaching a real trial. As a result, Father had continued fulfilling this role in the pulpit. Now that she thought about it, perhaps that was exactly why Father had hired Henry in the first place. Maybe Father hadn’t really wanted to give up his sermons at all. But who would preach on Sundays now?
“How nice,” exclaimed Louise as Alice set the tray on the white wicker table between the two women. “Alice, you’re just too good to us. Sit down and take a break before you completely wear yourself out.”
Aunt Ethel reached for a glass and smiled. “Daniel and I shared many a glass of lemonade out here over the years. It’s hard to believe that only last week we were sitting here reminiscing about our childhoods. We discovered that even though he was much older and already out of the house by the time I came along, we’d actually had some very similar experiences.” She sighed. “I’ll miss those little chats with him.”
Louise looked out over the still blooming climbing tea roses. “Well, it’s certainly a beautiful place for visiting with family and friends.” She smiled. “I’d almost forgotten how much I love this old porch and having a real yard to look out on.”
Wendell jumped into her lap as Alice settled herself into the porch swing and looked out over the lawn now in need of mowing. “Yes, even though the grounds have been a bit neglected these past few years, the old flowers and shrubs still look pretty good.” As she stroked the cat, she leaned back and listened to the gentle rhythmic squeaking of the swing as she moved back and forth. It had always been such a comforting sound.
“These are good,” said Louise as she reached for her second cookie. “Did you bake them, Alice?”
“No, Patsy Ley brought them by.”
“That’s Pastor Ley’s wife,” said Aunt Ethel. “Have you met her yet?”
Louise shook her head no. “I barely remember Pastor Ley. Wasn’t he a rather soft-spoken fellow?”
Aunt Ethel laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Have you thought about who’s going to take over the Sunday sermons?” asked Alice. Aunt Ethel was on the church board, along with Alice and several other church members. Naturally, she was usually full of ideas for how things should be run at Grace Chapel.
“Well, now, that is a bit of a sticky problem. Tsk-tsk, the good Lord knows that Pastor Ley can’t preach to save his soul.”
Louise chuckled. “Then why on earth is he a pastor?”
“He’s a good man,” Alice explained. “Whenever a parishioner is in need, Pastor Ley is the first one to lend a hand or an ear or whatever. He has a real servant’s heart.”
“And absolutely no skills in public speaking. Tsk-tsk, he could profit from a lesson or two from my Lloyd.”
Louise’s brows rose slightly. “Your Lloyd, Aunt Ethel?”
Aunt Ethel waved her hand. “Oh, did I forget to mention that the mayor and I have been dating lately?”
Louise shook her head. “Going after younger men now?”
“Pish-posh, Louise, he’s not that much younger.” Aunt Ethel patted her stiffly sprayed hair. “Besides, haven’t you heard that age is just a number?” She glanced at Alice. “Isn’t that what you’re always saying, dear?”
Alice shrugged. “Today I’m feeling like I’m pushing about a hundred.”
“You should go take a nap, dear,” suggested Louise. “You do seem tired, and I’m sure you’ve been through a lot today.”
“Oh, I’m fine—”
“Now, Alice, I’m not your older sister for nothing. Listen to me. You need to go have a little rest. Then you can freshen up after your cleaning campaign on the kitchen. Really, I insist. Ethel and I are perfectly capable of handling things down here.”
Alice slowly stood. “Okay, I suppose I could at least shower and change.”
“Yes.” Louise nodded firmly. “You’ll feel much better if you do.”
Alice obediently went to her room, feeling very much like a dismissed child, but she was unable to fall asleep. She’d never been much of a
napper. Instead she took a cool shower and, after standing for a long time before the embarrassingly sparse selection of clothes in her closet, she finally selected a lightweight cotton dress. Father had always liked it, saying its shade of periwinkle looked well on her. She didn’t normally wear dresses, other than to church, but decided that perhaps she should make a special effort for the first evening with her two sisters. Oh, if only Father could be here too.
She sat down in her easy chair by the window and picked up her old Bible. The cover had once been white but was now aged to a mellow creamy color. She wanted to read for a bit, to experience a little solace and comfort, but for some reason she just held the soft leather book in her lap. She remembered the day her father had given her that Bible, just shortly after Mother had died. He had presented both Louise and Alice with new Bibles then, along with a tender speech about how they were the “women of the house now.” She had felt as if she’d aged by a decade during that brief period of time, as if her childhood had been laid aside from that day on. She and Louise had done their best to keep their household running smoothly. It wasn’t long before they became like a pair of “mothers” to their new sister Jane. That’s what women in the church liked to call the Howard girls, “the two little mothers.”
“Alice!” yelled a familiar female voice from downstairs.
Alice hurried to the landing. “Jane?” she called back.
“Yes! I’m here, at last. You coming down?”
The next thing Alice knew, she and her sisters were hugging and talking at once.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” exclaimed Alice as she stepped back to get a better look at her younger sister. Jane looked wan and tired with dark circles beneath her normally sparkling blue eyes. She also looked as if she’d lost weight.
“How was your flight?” asked Louise.
“Long and boring.” Jane pushed a silver and turquoise bracelet up her thin wrist and sighed.
“Boring’s better than being tossed around in turbulence,” quipped Aunt Ethel. “It was so bumpy the last time I flew that a glass of juice went right in my lap.”
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