Second Chance Hero

by Winnie Griggs

  Constance Harper was the last to arrive this Saturday, and she didn’t immediately take her seat. Instead she stood facing them with barely suppressed excitement. She was obviously bursting with news of some sort. “I have an announcement.”

  Verity smiled. “Whatever it is, it looks like good news.”

  Constance nodded. “Yes. Well, both good and bad. I’m afraid this is the last Saturday tea I will be attending with you ladies for quite some time.” Then she grimaced. “That’s obviously not the good-news part.”

  “Well, I should say not!” Abigail gave her friend a pouty frown. “The good news better be mighty good to make up for that bad news.”

  Constance coyly took her seat. “Oh, it is.”

  From the smile on the girl’s face, Verity had no doubt that something wonderful had happened.

  “Well,” Abigail said impatiently, “don’t keep us waiting.”

  “The reason I won’t be here is that I’m going to pharmacy school in New York.”

  There was an immediate chorus of congratulations, followed by a stream of questions.

  Finally Constance held up both hands, palms out. “Thanks, everyone. I will miss all of you, of course, but this is such a great opportunity. Mr. Flaherty has taught me a lot since I’ve been working for him at the apothecary shop, but he says there’s more to be learned and he wants me to be ready to take over the business when he retires in a few years. So he’s sending me to a pharmacy school. He’s even offered to pay for my classes.”

  “Oh, Constance, that’s wonderful.”

  “It sounds as if Mr. Flaherty sees something very promising in you. You should be proud.”

  “You must stop by the fashion emporium so we can chat about New York. I can let you know what to expect.” Hazel had family in New York and spent a few weeks there every summer.

  As their tea was delivered, Janell, who was seated next to Verity, turned to her. “How are your plans for the children’s choir coming?”

  “Very well. I’ve been in contact with the mothers of several younger children. In addition to Joy I have three other younger children recruited.”

  Janell smiled and shook her head. “You’re a brave woman.”

  Verity returned her grin. “It’ll be fun.” Then she sobered. “I heard Zella is going to be unavailable to play the piano for us. I’ll miss her, but Mrs. Peavy will do fine, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, haven’t you heard?” Constance chimed in from Janell’s other side. “Mrs. Peavy isn’t taking Zella’s place this time. Mr. Cooper is.”

  Surprised by that little tidbit of news, Verity sat up straighter. How interesting that they were going to be thrown together yet again. Did Mr. Cooper know about the children’s choir yet? She hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem for him.

  “Well, now, isn’t that an interesting development.” Hazel’s voice had a definite what-have-we-here edge to it. “Who would have imagined a man like him could play piano?”

  Verity shot her friend an annoyed look. What did she mean a man like him? “He’s actually quite talented.”

  “Is he, now?” Hazel was looking at her with a mix of amusement and speculation.

  “He practiced on the piano in our parlor while he was staying at the clinic.”

  To Verity’s relief, Eve, the proprietress, arrived with a tray of sweets just then, and once they all had their refreshments, the conversation turned to other topics.

  But Verity knew Hazel wasn’t ready to let it drop entirely. Sure enough, when they left the Blue Bottle to head for the church, Hazel linked arms with her and nudged her with a shoulder. “So why didn’t you tell me Mr. Cooper serenaded you with the piano while he was at the infirmary?”

  “Because he didn’t serenade me. He didn’t even know I was listening until he finished playing the piece.”

  “Still, apparently he did more than lie in bed and recuperate while he was there. Tell me, is he as interesting as he seems? Did the two of you have some nice, long, get-to-know-you-better conversations?”

  Verity drew her shoulders back in exasperation. “Hazel, really, he was a patient in the clinic, not a suitor.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  Verity gave her friend a stern look. “I know that look in your eye. Promise me you won’t try to do any matchmaking.”

  Hazel sniffed and tilted her chin at a haughty angle. “You’re just no fun at all sometimes.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Oh, very well.” She good-naturedly changed the subject to a discussion about the proposal for a big fireworks display to close out the festival this year.

  As Verity entered the church a few minutes later, she felt her pulse quicken in anticipation. Would he already be here? Had he volunteered to take Zella’s place or had he been pressed into service? How would he feel about taking direction from her?

  She gave her head a mental shake. Her thoughts were heading into territory it would be best to avoid. It was a good thing Hazel couldn’t read her mind.

  Mr. Cooper was already seated at the piano. He hadn’t yet noticed her entrance, so she had time to study him.

  He was thumbing through a hymnal, his expression unreadable. No one had approached him, but she wasn’t surprised. It was that invisible wall he had erected around himself. Was he even aware he was doing it?

  Well, making him feel a welcome part of the choir would be a good start. She marched down the aisle and went straight to the piano. “Mr. Cooper, thank you so much for agreeing to step in for Zella, especially on such short notice.”

  She turned to the gathered choir members. “Most of you have probably already heard about Zella having to go out of town to see to her brother for a while. We’re very lucky to have Mr. Cooper to fill in for her. I’ve already had the pleasure of hearing him play the piano, and I can assure you he is quite talented.”

  Then she turned back to him. “Have you met everyone here?”

  When he indicated he hadn’t, she went around the group, introducing them one at a time. By the time the introductions were done, the last of the choir members had arrived and Verity was ready to begin the practice session.

  * * *

  Nate was impressed with Mrs. Leggett’s leadership qualities. Just as when she took charge of his care right after the accident, she was firm but not bossy, and quick to lend a hand or lend praise where needed.

  She had apparently spoken with Reverend Harper earlier about the scripture his sermon would be based on and chose songs that would complement his message. Some of the hymns were unfamiliar to him and he stumbled a bit the first time he played them. But she was as patient and gracious with him as she was with the rest of the choir.

  By the time practice was over, he was confident he could play the hymns for the service tomorrow without any trouble.

  The choir members began to slowly disperse, leaving in chatty groups of three or four. He saw the dressmaker, Miss Andrews, speak to Mrs. Leggett for a moment, but the widow waved her on and turned in his direction. Was she going to inquire after his health again?

  “Thank you again for stepping in today. Your time and talent were greatly appreciated.”

  “I don’t mind. I actually enjoy playing the piano.”

  “It shows in your playing.” She hesitated a moment, then continued. “I don’t know if anyone mentioned this to you or not, but I’m going to be working with a group of children to form a choir and present a program at the Founders’ Day Festival. Zella was planning to help me, but now that she’s unavailable—”

  “You need another pianist. Yes, I’m aware, and I’m happy to step in.”

  Her relieved smile softened her features. “Oh, thank you. And I promise you won’t regret it. Children are such a joy to work with.”

  Not ready to see her go yet, he asked the fi
rst question that popped into his head. “Do you know yet what kind of program you want to teach them?”

  “I have some ideas, but I’m open to other suggestions if you have some to offer.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking first and I’ll see if it sparks any ideas.” He slid over on the piano bench. “But first, have a seat. You’re making me feel most ungentlemanly.”

  She complied, coming around the piano to perch on the opposite end of the bench from him.

  He listened to her plans, asking questions and making suggestions. But all the time, a part of him was also aware of her nearness, her contagious enthusiasm.

  If it was going to be like this whenever they were together, he was in trouble. He would just have to make certain that they were together only when the choir—either the adult or children’s version—were with them. No more of these one-on-one sessions.

  “I plan to have practice sessions every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon right after school between now and the festival,” she said. “Will that be a problem for you?”

  “I can work with that.”

  “This first Tuesday I will mainly be evaluating the children individually to see where they are musically, and to see how well they can understand and follow directions. I won’t necessarily need the piano for that, so I suppose if you don’t want to come—”

  “You’re going to have over a dozen kids to work with. You’ll need some help. I’ll be here.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” She stood. “Well, I should be getting home so I can check on Joy. Aunt Betty loves her, but that little darling of mine can be a handful sometimes.” She moved away from the bench. “I’ll see you at the service tomorrow.”

  He stood, as well. “I’ll walk you out.” He reached for his cane. As they walked toward the door, she easily matched her steps to his without comment. But when they stepped outside, she paused and turned to him.

  “Do you need any assistance with the steps?”

  Did she think him such an invalid? “I can manage.”

  His tone had come out sharper than he’d intended and he saw her brow go up. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m just used to taking care of myself.”

  She gave him an understanding smile. “Well, you’re amongst friends now. There’s no shame in asking for or accepting help.”

  Amongst friends—he liked the sound of that. But could he truly consider himself their friend so long as he kept his history from them?

  * * *

  Sunday morning, Verity took her place with the rest of the choir at the front of the church. Mr. Cooper was already in place at the piano. Was he nervous? If so, he didn’t show it.

  The church bell rang, signaling to the latecomers and dawdlers that it was time to come inside and find their seats. Taking his cue as smoothly as Zella ever had, Mr. Cooper began playing an instrumental piece. It wasn’t a melody Verity was familiar with, and he seemed to be playing it from memory. There was no hesitation or stumbling. It was lovely.

  Later, when the service was over, she approached Mr. Cooper with a smile. She had to wait her turn to speak to him, however, as several members of the congregation came up to compliment him on his playing and thank him for standing in for Zella. It did her heart good to see him receiving such warm acceptance from the folks here—perhaps now he wouldn’t feel the need to keep himself so aloof.

  When at last he was alone, she stepped up. “It seems as if I’m not the only one who thinks your playing is exceptional.”

  He shrugged as he put away the sheet music. “I’m glad the folks in the congregation enjoyed it.”

  “Aunt Betty asked me to invite you for lunch.”

  He reached for his cane. “That is very kind of your aunt, but I’ve already made other plans.” He glanced toward the Barrs, and Adam’s wife, Reggie, gave him a small wave.

  “Oh, I see.” She’d been prepared to counter his I-don’t-want-to-be-any-trouble arguments but hadn’t even considered that he might have other plans. She also hadn’t been prepared for the stab of disappointment. “Well, enjoy your meal.”

  She turned, but before she could move away, Joy skipped up to them.

  “Hello, Mr. Cooper.”

  He gave her a smile. “Hello, Joy. How are you today?”

  She noticed that his cool reserve seemed to melt away when speaking to her daughter.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Joy responded. “I like your piano playing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How is Beans doing?”

  “He’s doing just fine. Thank you for asking.” Then he leaned in, as if to relay a confidence. “But I do think he misses seeing you.”

  Joy nodded solemnly. “I miss him, too.” Then she gave Nate a this-just-occurred-to-me look. “Maybe I should visit him.”

  “Joy!” Verity chided. “It’s not polite to invite yourself over to someone else’s home.”

  Her daughter widened her eyes innocently. “But he said Beans misses me. And I miss him, too.” The child’s tone implied that that was reason enough.

  Mr. Cooper intervened. “I tell you what. I plan to take Beans for a walk over toward the schoolyard this afternoon. Would you like to come with us?”

  “Can I, Mama?”

  “May I,” she corrected absently. Was he issuing the invitation more because he felt obligated or was it because he really wanted to? “Oh, pumpkin, I don’t know—”

  “You are invited, too, of course.”

  She looked from Mr. Cooper’s impassive face to Joy’s pleading one and nodded. “Very well.” If nothing else, this would be a step along the path to getting Mr. Cooper out and about more.

  Then she gave her daughter a no-nonsense look. “But only if you take your nap after lunch.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  Verity turned back to Mr. Cooper. “What time do you plan to take Beans for his walk?”

  “Shall we plan to meet in the schoolyard around three o’clock?”

  With a nod, Verity took Joy’s hand and turned toward the door. She was happy they’d agreed to see each other later, but there was something about the way he’d issued the invitation, something in his tone and carefully schooled expression that made her wonder if he was regretting the invitation even as he was issuing it.

  When they stepped outside, she informed Aunt Betty that they would not have a guest for lunch after all, then let Joy go with her and Uncle Grover while she turned to look for Hazel.

  She spotted her friend across the churchyard speaking to Belva Ortolon. Belva was relatively new to Turnabout. She’d moved here about four months ago to help her aunt Eunice with the running of the boardinghouse.

  When Verity approached, Belva gave her a smile of greeting. “Oh, hi, Verity. I was just telling Hazel how much I enjoyed the music this morning, and she tells me you picked out the hymns.”

  “I did.” Verity liked the girl. There was an artlessness about her, an almost tomboyish quality that she found quite engaging.

  Belva nodded approval. “‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’ is a favorite of mine, so thank you for selecting it.”

  Before Verity could respond, Belva looked past her and straightened. “Oh, there’s Mr. Cooper. I need to speak to him about something.”

  Surprised, Verity watched Belva approach Mr. Cooper and engage him in animated conversation. The girl seemed to know him rather well. Then Verity corrected herself—not girl, woman. She thought of Belva as a girl because of her youthful demeanor. But in truth she was a young woman of nineteen or twenty. By the time she herself had been that age she’d had a husband and daughter of her own.

  Belva’s aunt joined the pair just then and, together, the three of them made their way out of the churchyard. It occurred to Verity that Mr. Cooper hadn’t actually said his lu
nch plans were with the Barrs. Could he be taking his meal at the boardinghouse with the Ortolon ladies instead?

  Not that it was any of her business if he was.

  “Mr. Cooper did a fine job playing the piano this morning.”

  Verity turned back around to see Hazel eyeing her with an amused glint in her eye.

  “That he did.” She fiddled absently with the tie on her bonnet. “He’s starting to feel more comfortable with life here in Turnabout, don’t you think?”

  Hazel nodded. “How could he help but like it here?” She cut her eyes toward the man in question, then back to Verity. “And he apparently likes certain people here quite well.” For a moment Verity thought she was referring to Belva. Then Hazel clarified, “I noticed how he watched you during the service this morning.”

  Verity waved a hand dismissively. “It’s only because I’m choir director. He was taking his cues from me.”

  Hazel made a noncommittal sound, then changed the subject. “By the way, have you ever considered making hats to order?”

  “I don’t know.” From the corner of her eye, she watched the trio make their way as far as Second Street, then they turned the corner and disappeared from view.

  But Hazel was eyeing her with a knowing smirk so she quickly pulled her thoughts back to the conversation at hand. “Part of the fun for me in making hats is just going with whatever whimsy my imagination feeds me rather than trying to follow a set pattern or copy something from a picture. Why?”

  “Eula Fay stopped by the shop yesterday to order a new dress to wear when she presides over the festival’s opening ceremony. She asked if you’d consider making her a hat to match.”

  As Mayor Sanders’s wife, Eula Fay always liked to look her best when she was attending some sort of official function. “I suppose, if the only parameter I had was that it should match a particular dress, I could do that.”

  Hazel nodded. “It would be a guaranteed sale for you. And it could generate some additional orders. You know how Eula Fay is—if she likes something she’ll let everyone know.”