House of the Forest

by Diana Wallis Taylor

  Laura gave him a wry smile. “Well, there’s my mother, but she’s unable to be here.”

  The pastor raised his eyebrows and she hastened to add, “They had a quarrel years ago. They haven’t spoken to each other in a long time.”

  “Ah, we’ll just have to pray she changes her mind then.”

  “What about serving refreshments after the service? I could contact a caterer but I have no idea how many to plan for.”

  “Once again, I believe you won’t need to be concerned with that. The women of the church will provide the food and take care of the reception for you.”

  Laura leaned back in her chair and shook her head in disbelief. “I had anticipated having to do so much and everything has been taken care of so wonderfully. I’m overwhelmed.”

  “Your aunt did a lot for other people. It’s a pleasure and an honor to be able to do something for her.”

  Laura had another thought. “Is there anyone who would like to, you know, say something at the service? How is that handled?”

  “I’ll give the eulogy and then open the podium to anyone who wishes to share about your aunt.”

  “I’d like to say a few things. She was a very special person in my life.”

  “Of course, Ms.Kingsley, you would be the first person to speak.”

  There weren’t any other questions and after Pastor Bridges gave her a sample of the order of the memorial service to read over, she knew in her heart that all would go well.

  The pastor stood and as Laura rose and put out her hand, he clasped her hand in both of his. “You aunt talked about you a great deal. In seeing you, I know she made the right choice in her decisions.”

  “Thank you, Pastor Bridges, I’ll do my best to live up to that.”

  “Shall we close our time in prayer, Ms. Kingsley?”

  “Yes, thank you, and could you call me Laura? It sounds so much less formal.”

  He nodded and they bowed their heads.

  “Dear Lord, we thank you that you have taken our servant, Estelle DuPont to your heart and that she is with You even now. Thank you that you have brought her niece, Laura, to be with us and share the love she held for her aunt. May each of the plans that we make to honor her homecoming be blessed by You and may You comfort and hold in Your everlasting arms, Laura and those friends who are grieving at their loss.

  Be honored in all we do, we ask in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen.”

  “Amen,” Laura whispered, and feeling the tears brushing close to the surface again, took her leave.

  What else did she need to do until Saturday? There were Aunt Estelle’s clothes to go through. She’d need some boxes for that.

  “I could contact a realtor and put the house up for sale,” she mused aloud, “but that seems a bit heartless to do before the memorial service.”

  A thought crossed her mind. Why don’t you keep the house?

  But Lord, what would I do with it? I have my job in San Diego.

  Silence.

  Laura started the car, puzzled. Could the Lord be speaking to her heart to keep the house? She pushed the thoughts aside as she drove back to her aunt’s. Changing into jeans and a warm sweater, she contemplated the rest of her day. She hadn’t been in the Village for a long time, maybe she’d just poke around town. Feeling at last some direction for her afternoon, she grabbed her jacket and drove to the heart of Big Bear Lake.

  She wandered aimlessly for a while, glancing in windows, poking in a few gift shops. Then she saw it. A beautiful teapot with hand painted roses on it.Her own teapot, a gift from Aunt Estelle, had slipped out of her hands in the sink and smashed into pieces. Suddenly she needed this teapot. As she cautiously lifted it and looked at the price on the bottom, she sighed. Almost fifty dollars. She started to set it down again and stopped. I can afford this now. She picked up the teapot again and carefully carried it to the sales counter. She could buy what she wanted. She was an heiress. Then her practical nature re-asserted itself. Just because you have some money doesn’t mean you should go on a spending spree, Laura Kingsley.

  Carefully placing her teapot in the trunk of the car, Laura went in search of a place to have lunch. She found a restaurant designed like a Swiss chalet that served sandwiches and salads.

  She watched the people passing by on the street and at the other tables. She’d always been a people watcher but was careful to make sure she didn’t stare. Glancing across the street, she watched a tall man with dark hair, work jeans and a tool belt around his waist, getting out of a white truck. She recognized the man from the deli. Sam something or other. He went into a shop across the street from her. He certainly was good looking. Then she remembered the frown he’d given her. She shook her head. The girl at the deli said he was a widower. It must have been hard to lose his wife. Help him, Lord, to be able to get on with his life. She went on watching people as they went by.

  As she left the restaurant, the rain was falling intermittently with patchy sunshine, depending on the movement of the clouds. When it looked like it might sprinkle again, she ducked into an antique store and examined a couple of bear bookends that delighted her. They would be perfect for the bookshelf in her aunt’s rustic house. Then she caught herself. What are you thinking, Laura Kingsley? The house is going to be sold and you don’t need these right now. She put the bookends down and left the store. She might as well find some boxes for Aunt Estelle’s things. Glancing down at the pocket in her purse that held her cell phone, she realized she hadn’t turned it on that morning after charging it overnight. She’d no sooner punched the button when it rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Laura? For heaven’s sake, what’s the matter with your cell phone? I’ve been so worried about you. I didn’t know the number for your aunt’s house and I couldn’t reach you.”

  Laura winced. She could almost picture her friend Beth shaking her head in exasperation. For someone who used her cell phone excessively, Beth couldn’t understand someone who forgot to turn it on.

  “Laura, you’ll give me gray hair. Are you okay? Are you just up to your eyeballs in things to do? Do you need me to come up and help you?”

  “Beth, you know I appreciate your concern, but I don’t know that there’s a lot to do. Everyone has been so nice here and most of the important things have been taken care of. Besides, how would you get off work?”

  “It’s an emergency. There’s been a death and I have to be there.”

  “Beth, you didn’t even know Aunt Estelle.”

  “I know. But my dear friend has lost her aunt and she’s trying to handle all this alone. I’ve been praying for you.”

  Laura smiled at the phone. “I needed those prayers, my friend.”

  “So how are you doing? What did you find when you got there?”

  Laura had stepped outside to get better reception and now sank down on a bench in an alcove out of the weather and leaned back to talk.

  “Aunt Estelle’s very dear neighbors. One turned on the water and offered to help me any time I need it and the other fed me a nice fried chicken dinner last night so I wouldn’t have to go out in the rain and find a restaurant. Oh, Beth, God has just prepared the way every step. The memorial service is all taken care of. The ladies of the Community Church are doing all the food. The service is all set. My aunt even made her own burial arrangements. I haven’t had to do a thing.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing.” Beth paused. “Laura, are you okay, I mean, financially? You’re the closest thing to a sister I have and I know how stubborn you can be about help, but I have some money set aside, if you need-- ”

  Laura was touched. “You have a good heart, Beth, I can’t tell you how much that means to me to have you offer, but I’m fine.”

  “You are? Then how are you --,”

  “Beth, I’m the sole beneficiary of my aunt’s estate and she had an income I didn’t know about. She left me the car, the house, everything.”

  “So that means?”

  “That I’m ok
ay.”

  “Well, Praise the Lord. I’m glad, Laura. That sure makes things easier.”

  “I’ve been thanking Him all day.”

  “When’s the memorial service for your aunt?”

  “It’s set for Saturday, at ten in the morning.”

  “Is that a funeral service, you know, with the casket?”

  “Oh, no, the burial is this Thursday afternoon.”

  “Who’s going to be there?”

  “Me, I guess, maybe the neighbors next door.”

  “What are you doing until then?”

  Laura paused and reflected. “Not a lot. I have to inventory the house, I guess, and see what repairs need to be done to sell it.”

  “I’m coming up. I can help you with that.”

  “What about your boss?”

  Beth giggled. “Actually, he’s leaving on vacation and things are pretty quiet right now. No new projects until he gets back. He actually mentioned that I might take a few days off. No problem. I’ll just go back Sunday afternoon.”

  The prospect of company was a relief. “Oh Beth, I would love to have you come.”

  “Has Alan called you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s going on? Something’s wrong. I hear it in your voice.”

  “I’ll tell you about it when you get here.”

  “I know about his father, remember? You can stop being a strong tree for everyone, okay?”

  “Okay.” The tears threatened her eyes again. “Thanks.”

  Laura gave Beth directions to Big Bear Lake and how to find her aunt’s house. When she finally ended the call, Laura stood for a moment looking up at the patch of bright blue sky among the large fluffy clouds. You knew I needed help, Lord, and you’ve sent people from every direction. You’ve anticipated all my needs. Thank you for watching over me. Take me through this week and help me with all the decisions I have to make. Lead me in Your way, Lord.

  A trace of afternoon sun illuminated the wet street in a surreal golden glow. Laura almost felt like God’s everlasting arms were wrapped around her.

  Chapter Nine

  Deke poured over a crumpled map of California. He’d never been to Big Bear but it didn’t look that far from Los Angeles. The question was whether his 1982 Camero could make the trip. It conked out on him twice in the last month and one window was taped up after some kids tried to break in. Then there was the matter of his tires. Last time he checked them the tread looked pretty thin. Still, if the weather held the next weekend, the car could be all right.

  Looking at the packet Dora had given him, it occurred to him this Estelle DuPont could at least tell him something about his father. Maybe she knew something about the combination scrawled on the yellowed piece of paper.

  He stared down at the ancient flower print carpeting of his tiny studio apartment, noting a few worn spots. The place wasn’t much, but all he could afford at a minimum wage job. He straightened a couple of magazines on the mahogany coffee table he’d found at the thrift shop and went to stare out the window that faced the street.

  Today it was quiet, but the neighborhood was rife with drive-by shootings. He closed his curtains like he closed his mind. They were none of his business. When he came home each day, he checked for any movements in side alleys, and when suspicious cars prowled the streets, he kept moving and spent an hour or two at the all-night diner.

  So far he’d been fortunate, other than the broken window in his car. Punks! Who’d want his old car anyway? It was a pile of junk. He could fix a lot of the things that were wrong with it, he had a knack for mechanics, but there was no place to work on a car except the curb and he didn’t feel safe doing that.

  His eyes narrowed. If I could find that money I’d be set up real good. I could get a better place to live and a decent car. He mentally perused the cars he liked. A sports car would be good. Something flashy that would make those guys at the warehouse sit up. Then another thought occurred to him. I wouldn’t have to work any more. I could head for Mexico. You can live real cheap there.

  Lost in thought he almost ignored the ringing of his cell phone. He didn’t want to bother with a regular phone. Those goons, if they were cops, tracked him down to tell him about his father, maybe through the DMV? Even so, it irritated him to be found.

  He glanced at the number, didn’t recognize it, and with a smirk, closed his phone. Sometimes lately he thought he was being followed, but then he was always looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t prove it, for he’d tried every evasive device he’d learned over the years and didn’t spot a tail. Yet the habits he’d acquired in foster homes, didn’t go away. He’d have to be careful. He didn’t have anything anybody would want, why were they interested in him?

  The yellow paper, maybe he should throw it away. It wouldn’t do to have someone find it on him.

  .It has to be the payroll. Why else would my old man leave me the combination? Did the insurance detective think his father wrote to him to tell him about the money? He chewed his lower lip a moment. Maybe they thought he’d lead them to it? He sneered. Stupid cops. If I wanted to give them the slip, I could do it in a heartbeat. I know a tail when I see one and if I see one, I’m gone.

  Nobody saw him do anything unusual, except visit his father’s old apartment and walk out with nothing in his hands.

  He sat down on a chair by the window and took out the picture of the family he’d found in the manila folder. With both his father and the kid in the picture dead, that left the woman. She could still be alive and living in the same town. Maybe she’d gotten married again and changed her name. On a hunch, he called information.

  “I’m looking for an Estelle DuPont in Big Bear Lake, California.”

  He waited impatiently while the operator checked. She told him she had a listing and gave him the number.

  This was too easy. The operator wouldn’t give him the address of the house which ticked him off, but he figured he could find it somehow when he got up there. He thought for a moment and then on impulse, dialed the number. He waited through the rings and heard a recording come on. Expecting the usual call back message, he listened then cursed out loud, clenching one fist. A memorial service? The woman was dead? He cursed again. Now that really put a crimp in his plans. He snapped the phone shut and stood for a moment. He needed to think this out. Now what? Then the germ of an idea began to form. That was it. That’s what he’d do.

  As he stood up, he glanced out the window again. Just a lunch wagon parked across the street. Then a thought suddenly occurred to him. What was a lunch wagon doing in his part of town in the middle of the afternoon?

  Chapter Ten

  Laura began unloading the empty boxes from her car. She didn’t look forward to sorting through her aunt’s personal things, but she knew it was a job her aunt trusted her to do. Hearing footsteps on the gravel driveway, she looked up.

  It was Ginny. “Hi honey, how are you doing?”

  “I was going to come over and tell you the burial service for Aunt Estelle at the cemetery is going to be on Thursday at two. I didn’t want to be there by myself, “

  “Say no more, Laura, George and I would be honored to go with you.”

  Laura breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Ginny.”

  The older woman gave her a warm hug and then surveyed the boxes. “Want some help?”

  “I’d love some help.”

  “Do you know where you want Esty’s things to go?”

  Laura scrunched up her lips, thinking. “Not really. I’m not familiar with the thrift shops around here.”

  “There’s one that’s supported by one of the churches, run by Christian volunteers. Would that be all right with you?”

  Laura sighed with relief. “That would be more than all right. I wanted her things to go to a good place. Do they pick up or do I have to take the things there?”

  “You have to deliver the items to the shop, but I’ll find out the hours and George has that nice big truck. He’ll b
e glad to deliver the boxes for you.”

  “Ginny, you’re a Godsend. Thank you so much.”

  The two women stacked the boxes in the entry so they would be out of the weather.

  As Ginny and Laura entered the master bedroom, Ginny studied the room with a practiced eye. “Let’s get started on the clothes first. Those are things you can’t use. You’ll want to take your time with the jewelry and other personal items.”

  Laura realized that Ginny had probably done this before, maybe for one of her elderly friends. In any case, she appreciated having someone help her get started.

  The women worked companionably, carefully putting usable hangers in a bag and folding clothing items as they took them out of the closet. As each box filled, Laura carried it to the entry.

  When the closet and drawers were emptied, the room looked a little forlorn. Ginny must have sensed Laura’s weariness; for she linked her arm in Laura’s and smiled up at her. “I think we’ve earned a cup of tea, what do you say?”

  Laura and Ginny sat in the kitchen nook slowly sipping from their cups.

  “Are you going to be here all week by yourself?” Ginny wrinkled her brow.

  “Actually, no, my best friend, Beth Davidson, is on her way. She doesn’t have to be back at work until next Monday.

  “Oh that’s good. I feel better knowing you won’t be here alone.” Ginny’s smiled tentatively as she studied Laura for a moment. “Do you want to tell me about your young man? I’m a good listener.”

  Laura sighed. “We’re to be married in May when the college lets out for summer vacation.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He was filling in for the singles pastor one evening at his church. I’d recently started attending there. We just started talking.”

  Somehow it felt better to talk about him. Little by little, Laura poured out her story up until the time she left her apartment to drive up to Big Bear.

  Ginny patted her hand, “Well, he certainly sounds like a capable young man.”