“Paul,” Kate said as he set down his plate, “you remember Emmaline Ashford, the lady I visited in the hospital last week. Emmaline, this is my husband, Paul Hanlon.”
“Hello,” said Paul. He offered Emmaline a hand.
She took it gingerly. Kate could almost swear there was an expression of dismay on her features for a moment.
“Hello.” Quickly, she rose. “I’m going to get my meal.”
Paul sent Kate a quizzical look. “Was it something I said?”
Kate laughed. Then she sobered. “I’m sorry about this,” she offered. “I didn’t invite her. Perhaps she wanted to replace the memory of last week’s incident with a better one.”
But after witnessing Emmaline’s direct route to Kate’s table, Kate couldn’t help but wonder whether Emmaline had come to the Bristol looking for her specifically. Then she recalled a snippet of her recent conversation with Livvy at the library—a conversation to which Emmaline had been privy. She realized that Emmaline very well may have planned to meet them there, even though she had to know that Kate hadn’t invited her to join them.
“Perhaps,” Paul said, a hint of disappointment in his smile.
Emmaline returned a few moments later with a loaded plate. As she set it down, Kate noticed that she appeared to have taken some of every dish at the buffet, including a large slice of the rare prime rib a chef had been carving. Dr. McLaughlin had suggested that Emmaline didn’t have heart trouble, and from the look of her plate, she certainly didn’t have any digestive issues either.
“Those stuffed portobellos look delicious,” Kate said, eyeing Emmaline’s selections. “I didn’t get any because I didn’t have any more room on my plate, but I may have to make a second trip.”
Emmaline smiled. “They do look good. A second trip is definitely in my future.” Then she silently shook out her napkin and picked up her cutlery.
Kate saw that the conversational ball wasn’t going to begin rolling until she tossed it. “I thought of you this morning,” she told Emmaline.
Emmaline’s head came up quickly, and she smiled at Kate. “You did?”
Kate nodded. “We went to church,” she said, gesturing at Paul, “and it occurred to me that I’ve never invited you to visit Faith Briar. I apologize for that. Our congregation is full of friendly, welcoming people. It might be a good way for you to make some new friends in the area.”
Emmaline shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m not really much of a churchy-type person. Thank you anyway.”
There was another awkward silence at the table. Kate wondered why Emmaline had seemed so delighted to join them. She certainly didn’t seem very thrilled about it at the moment.
Paul cleared his throat. “Did Kate tell you that I’m training to run in a 10K race next month?”
Emmaline shook her head politely. “I don’t believe she has.”
Paul smiled. “My friend Eli suggested it. He knew I was a runner. Although, as I told him, I rarely run more than three miles at a time, if that.”
“I think three miles is a lot. How far is a 10K in miles?”
“A bit more than six miles,” Paul told her.
Emmaline’s eyes widened. “That’s twice as far. Do you really think you can do that?”
Kate nearly laughed out loud at the expressions that flitted across Paul’s face. Her husband wasn’t vain in any sense of the word, but he strove to keep himself in good shape. He wasn’t affronted...exactly. He definitely wasn’t annoyed. But there was no denying he was taken aback.
“Er...that’s a good question. I hope I can. Eli and I plan to train together six days a week.” His lips twitched as his sense of humor asserted itself. “If I can’t complete the race, I made Eli promise to give me a ride to the finish line on his back.”
Emmaline didn’t respond. Kate didn’t think she was enjoying Paul’s humor. Why on earth would her friend be standoffish with Paul, who was one of the kindest, most easy-going people Kate knew? Even if he hadn’t been her husband, she was certain she would appreciate those qualities in him.
Finally, Emmaline spoke again. “Well, good luck,” she said with a grimace. “I suspect you’re going to need it.”
Kate couldn’t believe her ears. What a slam Emmaline had just directed at Paul!
Kate opened her mouth to bring Emmaline to task for her rudeness, but she was interrupted by someone calling her name.
“Yoo-hoo! Kate. Pastor Paul. How are you doing?” The speaker was Dot Bagley, a plump, kindly woman whom Kate often ran into at Betty’s Beauty Parlor. Dot was an incorrigible gossip, a bad habit which Kate tried to avoid. But because Dot didn’t have a malicious bone in her body, her busybody ways didn’t seem to offend most people.
Kate smiled as Dot paused beside their table, a laden plate in each hand.
“We’re fine, thanks,” Kate said.
Dot’s gaze sharpened. “That’s good. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Need what?” Kate was mystified.
Dot blushed. “Oh, you know. Just...anything.” She gestured with the two plates she was carrying. “I’d better set these down before I drop them.” And she scurried off.
Kate stared after her. “How odd. I wonder if she’s referring to helping the Miller family. Perhaps we should ask her to babysit the children, although I’m not sure how well Dot would handle a screaming toddler.”
Emmaline looked doubtful. “I’m not sure how well I would handle a screaming two-year-old. I might just run screaming myself.”
“They’re not that bad,” Kate said. “I babysat the children last week and enjoyed them. Anna, the middle child, is a very sweet little girl, once she gets to know you.”
“That’s good,” Emmaline said. “Did I tell you about the new watercolor I’ve started?”
As a segue, it was abrupt and jarring. But Kate had come to expect less-than-stellar social skills from Emmaline, so she smiled and said, “No, you didn’t. What’s the subject?”
For the rest of the meal, Emmaline talked art. Her own work, Kate’s current project, pieces at a museum she’d recently visited...Kate could see Paul’s eyes glazing over. Emmaline didn’t appear to notice.
Kate enjoyed talking art with Emmaline and continued to be inspired by the woman’s creativity, but she felt that Emmaline was excluding Paul rather thoughtlessly. At one point, Kate attempted to draw Paul in by telling Emmaline about Paul’s cooking abilities, particularly his specialty, chili.
Emmaline said vaguely, “I’m not much for cooking. You know, Kate, I was reading online the other day about a new technique for blending watercolor pencils.” She proceeded to speak at length on the subject.
They finished the meal over coffee and samples of several of the delectable dessert confections.
“You’re going to need a wheelbarrow to get me out of here,” Kate predicted.
Paul grinned. “I’ll run right home and get one.”
As they left the restaurant, Emmaline said, “Would today be a good day for me to visit and see your studio, Kate?”
“We’re busy today,” Kate told her as she slipped her hand into Paul’s, deliberately including him. “Perhaps another time. It was good seeing you.”
“All right.” Emmaline turned away with barely a backward glance. “I’ll see you in a day or so, Kate.” She acknowledged Paul with little more than a halfhearted wave.
“Well!” Kate said indignantly as she and Paul got into the car. “Emmaline certainly wasn’t displaying her friendly side today, was she?”
“She was to you,” Paul said with a wry smile. “She just wasn’t thrilled with the competition.”
Kate nodded in chagrin.
“There’s something very sad about her, isn’t there?” Paul said.
Kate continued to nod. “Well, she’s lonely down here with no family around,” Kate began, but her husband shook his head.
“I think there’s more to it than just loneliness. It’s almost as if there’s something broken in
side her. She’s trying to heal it by clinging to your friendship, but it’s not working.”
Kate stared wide-eyed at her husband, then realized she shouldn’t be surprised at his insight. “You’re exactly right, honey.” She sighed. “So how do I help her without letting her take over my life?”
Chapter Nine
Kate arose early on Monday morning, well before Paul’s alarm. She had laid her robe and slippers near the end of the bed so she could easily retrieve them, and she slipped out of the bedroom without waking Paul.
Coffee. She needed coffee. Yawning, she started the pot and then sank into a chair, staring blankly at the coffeemaker until it was finished brewing.
Retrieving a mug from the cabinet, she filled it and carried it to the small table beside her rocking chair. Then she fetched her Bible and her devotional guide and journal. Shaking her head vigorously like a dog just coming out of water, she said bracingly, “Time to wake up, Kate Hanlon!”
Sitting down in the familiar old chair she loved, she spread open her materials in her lap and drew her mug close. First, she stilled herself, sitting quietly and preparing to listen to God. Then she opened with prayer.
In addition to scriptural references, her devotional selection that morning was based on a quote by Pablo Casals, the great Spanish cellist: “Of course the gift to be cherished most of all is that of life itself. One’s work should be a salute to life.”
She pondered the wisdom of Casals’ words, praying that everything she did would be worthy of “a salute to life.” Not just the stained-glass creations she made, although certainly she hoped that her faith was reflected in her pieces, but also in her ministry with Paul at Faith Briar and in the relationships she had with the citizens of Copper Mill.
Finally, she concluded her devotional time with specific prayer concerns for various friends and parishioners, particularly lifting up her concerns about how to help Emmaline.
AFTER HER TIME in prayer and reflection, Kate got out her silver polish and soft cloths to polish her silver service. She had noticed the other day it was showing signs of tarnish, and she had tentatively planned to clean it that morning. She had just started inspecting the silver to see where tarnish might be lurking when the telephone rang. She veered toward the phone on the counter.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Andrew! Hi, honey. What’s up?” Kate was surprised to hear from her son. She talked to each of her children once a week, and she had just spoken with Andrew a few days prior.
“Hi, Mom. Are you and Dad going to be home next Sunday?”
“Of course. No Caribbean vacations on the horizon. Why? What’s up?”
“How would you like houseguests?”
“We’d love them!” Kate was nearly hopping up and down in delight. “All four of you?”
“Yep! We’d fly down on Sunday. The kids have three days off school for autumn break, so we decided a trip to Copper Mill would be in order. We’ll fly home on Wednesday.”
“Oh, Andrew, this is great. It’ll be wonderful to see all of you. Your father will be ecstatic.”
Her eldest child laughed. “I’ll see you Sunday, then. We’ll take a rental car from Chattanooga up to Copper Mill, so you don’t have to worry about meeting us. I’ll let you know an approximate time when we make flight reservations.”
“I can’t wait to see you!”
“Same here. Love you, Mom. I’ll see you next Sunday.”
“I love you too, honey. See you soon.”
Just as she set down the phone, Paul came in from his training run.
“Guess who called while you were gone?” Kate said.
Paul arched an eyebrow in question.
“Andrew! He’s bringing the whole family to visit. They’ll be arriving next Sunday. Andrew said he’ll let us know an approximate time after he makes their flight reservations.”
“That’s terrific news.”
“I thought so,” Kate said. “You look beat.” She went to the cupboard and took down a large plastic cup, which she filled with ice water.
Paul limped a bit as he hobbled to the kitchen table, then sank down into a chair with a sigh of relief. “I am...it did not go well.”
“Define ‘not well,’” Kate requested, patting his shoulder. She handed him the water before going back to her silverware.
“Thanks.” Paul sighed again. “Eli can run rings around me. This week we’re running 5K distances. Today we trained on a hill, running a 5K time up the same hill twice.”
“A 5K time is a faster pace than a 10K would be on the same hill?” asked Kate, trying to grasp his meaning.
“Right.” Paul bent over and massaged his calves. “I used to enjoy running,” he said in an aggrieved tone. “Running used to be fun. I may never run again.”
Kate laughed. “Oh, come on now, surely it wasn’t that bad.”
“No.” Paul gave her a lop-sided smile, then the twinkle faded from his blue eyes as he said, “But seriously, Katie, I’m not sure I can do this.”
He sounded so discouraged that Kate had a moment’s sudden worry that he might be feeling worse than she thought. Was this training too much for him? She nearly mentioned it but forced herself to be positive and encourage him.
“Well, I believe you can. Think of the good you’ll do with the funds you raise to support heart-disease research.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, coach.” He turned his attention to the breakfast Kate had made as she slid into her own seat. After they had eaten, he smiled as he rose from the chair, then groaned and grabbed both thighs. “I think I’ll go shower and then pray for myself.”
“I think that’s a grand idea,” Kate said, trying not to laugh as she watched him hobble off. “I’ll include you in my prayers as well.”
“Thanks.” Paul’s voice faded as he closed the door of the bathroom.
As soon as the silver was cleaned and put away, Kate pulled out her new Southern Living Cookbook. She thought it would be nice to welcome Andrew and Rachel and the kids with some genuine Southern cuisine.
The telephone rang. Sighing at the interruption, Kate reached for the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hello? Kate?” It was a woman’s less-than-robust voice. “This is Emmaline.”
Kate said, “You don’t sound so great. Are you feeling ill?”
“Well...” Emmaline’s voice was breathy. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Pardon?”
Kate frowned. Emmaline sounded odd—distracted or disoriented. Kate couldn’t decide which. “You called me. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, I was wondering if you would have time to come by for a little bit.”
Kate hesitated. After Emmaline’s recent rude behavior, Kate had intended to be a bit less available to her new friend. But Emmaline sounded unwell, and Kate’s ministering heart wouldn’t allow her to ignore her friend’s distress.
Finally, she said, “I guess I could. Is there a time that works best?”
“How about right now?”
Kate’s eyebrows rose. She wasn’t exactly busy, she reasoned, but she had been looking forward to going through the cookbook. “Let me finish a few things, and then I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Thank you.” The short sentence apparently exhausted Emmaline. She breathed heavily, and Kate heard a soft noise like a stifled groan. Was Emmaline having another episode like she’d had the other day in her living room?
Kate’s level of concern rose significantly. “I’ll be right over,” she said, hanging up the receiver. The cookbook would have to wait.
She hunted for her handbag and keys. Moments later, she climbed into her little black Honda and quickly backed out of the garage for the short journey to Emmaline’s home.
As she drove, she took deep breaths. If Emmaline had experienced another attack, surely she would have mentioned it. What could have happened? It seemed like a good idea to pra
y for Emmaline as she drove.
Lord, please be with Emmaline as she struggles with her health and the emotional burdens that seem to afflict her. Please make her strong and well. Help me to show her your way and to be an example of your grace. Give me the wisdom to discern how to help her. Amen.
Peace flooded her. God would take care of Emmaline, Kate felt certain. And Kate felt compelled to offer herself as an instrument to assist him with that task.
She pulled into the driveway beside Emmaline’s little white two-story home and parked the Honda. Arriving on the small porch, she rang the bell.
It seemed a long time before she saw Emmaline’s shadow as her friend approached the door. Kate heard her fumbling with the lock, and finally the door swung open.
Emmaline was wearing a faded soft blue sweat suit and lamb’s-wool-lined moccasins. Still, she was wearing light makeup, and her hair was neatly done.
“Come in,” she said, gesturing halfheartedly toward the living room.
Kate entered and removed her coat. “Would you like me to make some tea first?”
Emmaline shook her head. “Thank you, but I was resting when you arrived, and I’m still feeling very weak.”
Emmaline certainly didn’t seem herself, although Kate didn’t hear the stentorian breathing that had concerned her during the phone call. “Have you eaten anything today?”
Again, Emmaline shook her head. “No. Breakfast just seemed like so much effort...”
“Could I make you something?” Kate asked.
The other woman’s eyes brightened a bit. “Would you mind? I would appreciate that so much.”
“One fine breakfast coming right up!” Kate sang out.
Her prayer had given her a new surge of optimism and energy, and she was gratified to see Emmaline smile in response. But as she opened the refrigerator to see what she might offer her friend for breakfast, she became aware of a growing concern. She was afraid Emmaline was laboring beneath a burden that went far beyond her health, a burden that Kate felt certain was at the root of much of her trouble.
Kate filled Emmaline’s pretty copper teakettle with water, which she set on to boil. While she waited, she found eggs, grated cheese and some luncheon ham, perfect for a ham-and-cheese omelet. Then she hunted through cupboards and drawers for tea bags, sweetener, utensils, a plate, and a mug. In a lower cupboard, she found a pretty place mat embroidered with violets, which she placed on the kitchen table. Then she arranged the place setting in an attractive manner before beginning the omelet.
How the Heart Runs Page 9
