Get real, Jonathan. Claire North is a good storyteller. But you’re a historian. An objective reporter. Don’t let a charming old lady and a pretty sunset mess up your head. You haven’t even gotten started yet.
CHAPTER THREE
On Monday morning, Adele woke up filled with determination. She called Molly’s shop first thing before she was even dressed or had gone down for breakfast. She had taken a business card the day before and noticed that the shop opened at seven a.m.
“I’m sorry, Molly won’t be in until the afternoon,” a pleasant voice informed her. “Would you like to leave a message?”
“Um . . . no . . . thank you. I’ll try back later,” she spoke quickly, and hung up.
She sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. She had been all stirred up and now felt the wind leave her sails. It was hard to believe she had been here since Saturday and hadn’t faced anyone in her family yet. How long could she stay without being discovered? Was this God’s way of telling her that she had made a mistake and ought to go back to Vermont? Adele was starting to wonder.
She took a shower and dressed. It was still early, not even seven-thirty. She went down to breakfast and ate in the kitchen with Claire.
“You’re quiet this morning. Are you feeling all right?” Claire looked across the table at her with concern as they finished their coffee.
Adele was tempted to confide her troubles, but something held her back. “I’m all right. I don’t like to talk much when I first get up,” she said, which was true.
“I feel the same.”
Adele just smiled, tempted to add that Claire wasn’t exactly a chatterbox the rest of the day, either.
Claire began clearing the table, but paused to offer Adele a copy of the local paper, the Cape Light Messenger. “Why don’t you sit on the porch and get some air? I don’t think you’ll be cold. It’s a very fair day, considering it’s December.”
Adele was used to Vermont’s harsh winter, so it almost felt like spring down here this morning. “I think I’ll take a walk out on the beach,” she decided. “It will do me good.”
Maybe it will help me get my thoughts together and decide whether I should stay here. Is this the desperate crisis I’d thought—or just a fool’s errand?
Claire was standing at the sink and glanced at her. “I wish I could come with you. Sometimes I think the beach is even more beautiful in winter, though that wooden staircase can be treacherous. There’s a path that winds down to the shoreline, on a gentle slope. The opening is in the brush across from the goat farm. I think you’ll be better off taking that route,” she advised. It was a polite way of saying she would be less likely to break a hip or otherwise injure herself on this little adventure.
“I remember the way. Good idea.”
Adele put on her down jacket and took a scarf and gloves just in case the wind kicked up near the water. She set off down the road and soon found the right path. It should be marked “For Seniors” or “Slow-Moving Vehicles,” she joked to herself. It would take a bit longer to reach the shoreline this way than with the stairs, but she would get there in one piece.
She heard that sea air was a tonic and actually lifted your mood with positive molecules. She wasn’t sure if that was true, but a walk on the beach always made her feel better. Maybe because you were so close to nature and standing by the sea and sky, you realized the enormity of the universe and your own insignificance. And the relative insignificance of your problems, she thought.
She took her time on the sandy path that wound through the dunes and soon reached the beach. Then she ambled over the sand until she reached the flat, smooth shoreline.
The sky was very blue with high, puffy white clouds, and the waves rolled gently to the shore, smooth and calm. If it had been July or August, it would have been a perfect day for swimming. She used to love to run into the water and dive under the waves. Even the rough breakers hadn’t scared her when she was young and strong. That was one thing her husband, George, had loved about her. She wasn’t afraid of taking on the ocean, diving in without a care.
Why am I such a scared rabbit now? George would not be proud of me so far on this trip, she thought. Is he looking down at me right now, shaking his head?
I’m doing my best, George, she silently countered. We decided together and thought we were doing the right thing. But you can see now, it turned out wrong. And I’m left to sort out this big mess.
“Adele Morgan? Is that you?”
Adele looked up. She’d been watching her steps, careful not to lose her balance and had not noticed the man who now stood just a few feet in front of her. She recognized him instantly, even in his baseball cap, red down vest, and high green wading boots. Even though he was carrying a fishing rod and a tackle box.
“Yes, Reverend, it’s me.” She smiled at him shyly.
“How good to see you. You’re looking very well.” He set his gear down and took her hand and held it for a moment between both of his. “I thought I saw you yesterday at the service, sitting toward the back. Then I thought I had to be imagining it. You suddenly disappeared.”
“You did see me there. I enjoyed your sermon as always,” she said honestly.
“Thank you.” He seemed embarrassed by her praise and peered down at her from behind his gold-rimmed glasses. He still had the same round cheeks and cheerful smile, the same thick beard, though it was now mostly gray. He was still a modest man, too, she thought.
She quickly filled the silence with some small talk, asking about his family and how his fly-casting was coming along. There were good reports on both fronts.
“What brings you out to the beach today? Are you staying on the island?” He finally asked the question she had been avoiding.
“Yes, up at the inn. Liza Martin’s done a wonderful job renovating.”
“Yes, she has.” His curious stare remained. She could tell he was wondering why she wasn’t staying with any of her family in the village. “Sam and Jessica didn’t mention that you were visiting. I guess that’s why I wondered if I’d even see you.”
Reverend Ben was indirect at times, Adele recalled, but somehow always hit his mark.
“My family doesn’t know I’m here, Reverend. I guess you could say I’ve snuck into town and I’m lying low,” she tried to joke, but didn’t quite manage it. “It’s a long story,” she added.
He shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere to go. The fish aren’t biting this morning, either,” he added, stabbing his pole into the sand.
Adele hesitated. She had been worrying herself sick about this problem for years, but she had never really told anyone about it before. It was too hard to discuss, too painful. But maybe she did need to talk about it, and she couldn’t think of anyone better to tell than Reverend Ben.
“The reason I’ve come is a little complicated,” she finally began. “There’s an issue in our family, an unsettled argument, one you probably don’t even know about. It started when my husband, George, died seven years ago. My son Joe was very angry at the terms of my husband’s will, which”—she hesitated, because even saying it aloud sounded so unfair—“which favored my son Kevin.”
“I didn’t know that. Seven years? That is a long time.”
Adele felt a bit embarrassed by her admissions of these family matters, but she also felt relieved, finally bringing it out in the open.
“It’s always pained me deeply, Reverend, but it seemed that there was nothing I could do. So I’ve lived with it. Like my bad knee or the aching in my old bones.” She paused and glanced at him. He was listening intently with a thoughtful expression. “I don’t know why, but suddenly I just couldn’t live with it any longer. Maybe it’s just Christmas coming. At my age, you know each holiday might be your last. I just felt this urgent need to make my family patch things up. So I’ve come down here to
try to do that . . . I’m just not sure how.”
Reverend Ben’s blue eyes shone with sympathy. “I admire you for simply trying, Adele. It’s a hard job but an important one.”
“That’s what I think,” she said. “I just don’t even know where to begin.”
They were both silent for a moment, then he said, “Would you like to tell me a little more about it?”
Adele nodded. “You remember that we ran a variety store up in Highland?”
“Yes, I do, now that you mention it. But that wasn’t the reason you and George left Cape Light, was it?”
Reverend Ben had a good memory, she thought.
“No, that wasn’t why. George was transferred by his company and he didn’t want to lose his retirement benefits and have to find a new job in middle age. I guess we were in our late fifties. We thought we were old . . . little did we know,” she added with a smile. “So we moved up there, then it turned out that he was laid off anyway, about two years later. I wanted to come back to Cape Light, but he heard of an opportunity to buy a good business in town, the Five Star Variety store. George had always wanted to own his own business, so we used our savings and took a chance. It turned out to be a good decision. George had a knack for running the store, and it did very well.”
“Was he still running the store when he got sick?”
“Yes, he was, with the help of a manager. He didn’t put in the same long hours, of course. But he wouldn’t let it go. He had promised the business to our son Joe. You know Joe, Reverend. He’s worked in restaurants all his life, but he’s always wanted to go off on his own. He could never afford to take the chance, though, not with the responsibilities of such a large family.”
“So George changed his mind and left the store to Kevin? Is that right?”
This was the hard part to explain. “Kevin had a lot of problems at that time. His first wife had just left him, he had lost his job . . . and was trying very hard to get sober. He was an alcoholic back then. The drinking started in college and it got worse.” She glanced at Reverend Ben. “He was floundering, Reverend. He was also minding the business for us while I took care of George.”
Reverend Ben didn’t interrupt.
“It was a very hard decision. But Kevin had lost so many jobs due to his drinking. George and I thought he needed the help much more than Joe did. George wanted to know that Kevin would be able to make a decent living after he was gone. I’m sorry now for the way things turned out, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time. We both saw Kevin as the weaker one, the one needing more help. He was always that way—going to three different colleges before he could finish his degree, going out and getting jobs and then losing them just as fast. I think we were good, loving parents, but Kevin had certain weaknesses in his character. He couldn’t beat drinking, though he tried many times. We thought the business would give him hope and a new start. A reason to get up every morning. A good reason not to drink. That’s what we both thought and hoped would happen. We had to do something.”
Adele let out a heavy sigh. “Joe was always the strong one, very independent, never asking or even willing to accept our help. He had always been so close and protective of Kevin when they were growing up, we felt sure he would understand. My husband had planned to explain it all to Joe before he died. But he never got the chance. So I was left to break that news.”
“And Joe didn’t understand.”
“No, he didn’t understand at all. He felt very angry and betrayed. Betrayed by all of us . . . but mainly by Kevin. Joe didn’t see the alcoholism as an illness. He thought Kevin had played on our sympathies. He thought Kevin should have been a man about his setbacks, not come crawling home to us for help or turning to the bottle to drown his problems. Joe told Kevin that the right thing to do would be to refuse the store and give it to him, as George had always promised.”
“Joe has always been so responsible,” Reverend Ben said. “I suppose that was to be expected. How did Kevin react to that? Was he willing to make any compromise at all?”
“Oh, he tried to apologize and even offered to pay Joe half of what the business might be worth, over time. But Joe wasn’t talking to him by that point. He felt Kevin had manipulated George when he was sick. And just as bad, Joe felt he had been cut out of the will—and all for nothing. In a way, he was right. The store only lasted about two years more with Kevin managing things. He started drinking again and lost it all.” Adele winced at the painful memories. “At that point, even I lost my patience and sympathy for him.”
“That must have been a very difficult time for all of you. How is Kevin doing now? Did he ever manage to right himself?”
“Yes, he did,” she said. “Losing the business was probably his rock bottom. He finally faced himself and made a commitment to get sober. He had reached out for help countless times before. But this time, for some reason, the program worked. Kevin’s been sober now for almost five years. He married again and has a good job in telecommunications. He’s doing very well, too. I spent Thanksgiving with his family, and he’s been offered a big promotion.”
“That’s terrific. I’m glad to hear it,” Reverend Ben said sincerely.
“It’s a great relief to me. I would hate to leave this world knowing Kevin was still struggling with his illness. But he will be moving far away, to New Zealand. That’s where his firm is moving him, right after the New Year,” she added. “So you see, Reverend, there are many good reasons why I want my sons to make peace now. While I’m still alive, for one thing, and before Kevin moves halfway around the world and out of reach.”
“Yes, I see. There is real urgency.” Reverend Ben’s expression was somber.
“I know we weren’t fair to Joe, but I can’t help thinking this was the way it was meant to be. It was only when Kevin hit rock bottom, when he lost the precious gift his father gave him, that he was able to finally face himself, take hold of his life, and truly change. Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to pull himself together otherwise. Maybe that was God’s way of doing it, the price we all had to pay so that Kevin could live a productive life again. Wasn’t it a small price, all things considered?” she asked. “Wouldn’t a parent pay any price to save their child’s life? Shouldn’t his brother feel the same way?”
“But Joe doesn’t see it that way?” Reverend Ben guessed, his tone gentle.
Adele shook her head. “I doubt if he will even hear me out. The truth is, I’m afraid to bring the matter up to him, Reverend. Our relationship isn’t what it used to be,” she added sadly. “He hardly speaks to me anymore. Just a call once a week or so. Or he comes if I have an emergency. He leaves the rest to Kevin. Joe just does his duty by me now. I don’t know how I’ll ever get through to him,” she admitted.
Reverend Ben was silent for a long moment, his gaze going to the endless waves sweeping in to the shore. Finally, he said, “I wish I knew what to tell you, Adele. There are no shortcuts to forgiveness of such a painful episode. It sounds to me as if this breach is about more than who got the store. It seems you’re saying that you and your husband treated your younger son differently, gave him more attention and support. Because that’s what he needed from you. While Joe was different, independent, and undemanding. This final gesture of your husband’s, to take care of Kevin, even though it meant breaking his promise to Joe . . . Well, I guess that was the last straw for Joe. It would be hard for anyone to let go of that,” he said honestly.
“Yes, you’re right.” She suddenly felt tears welling up in her eyes. Confessing her biggest, most regrettable mistake—even to a minister—was terribly upsetting.
“It won’t be easy,” Reverend Ben predicted, “but don’t give up hope. You’re doing the right thing. I believe that, come what may, your family must finally see that.”
She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and nodded. “I believe that, too. But so far . . . I kee
p feeling as if God is telling me to go back home and leave it be. My dream was to bring them all together again, to have one big Christmas like the old days. Now I’m not sure I can do it. Maybe it’s too much to ask.”
“Nothing is too much to ask, Adele. Though I can’t guarantee that God will get things done just the way you imagine it. I think you’ll have to chip away at this mountain of resentment a little bit at a time. It might not even be solved by the New Year. But you should take comfort in knowing that you tried.”
Adele drew in a long, shaky breath and nodded. It might take a long time to smooth these troubled waters. But she hoped to take comfort in succeeding, not just trying.
Reverend Ben rested his hand on her shoulder a moment. “Don’t lose heart, Adele. Don’t let yourself get discouraged. Keep asking for God’s help. Just remember that even if He often moves in ways that are unfathomable to us, His love is always with us. And if there’s anything I can do to help you, please let me know.”
“You’ve already helped a lot just by hearing me out.”
“I was happy to. In fact, I think I was down here on the beach, not catching any fish this morning for just that reason,” he added with a smile. “I’ll be praying for you and your family.”
“Thank you, Reverend. It will take a lot of prayers,” she added. “I’ll let you know how it’s going.”
A few moments later they said good-bye, and Adele headed back up the beach, feeling much better than she had when she left the inn.
I’m no longer ready to pack up and sneak out of town, she thought with a smile. How lucky to have run into Reverend Ben down here. Telling him my tale of woe really helped me get back on track. It wasn’t luck, she realized. There was God’s hand in that meeting. It was a sign, for sure. I have to march on back to town to see Molly or Sam, or both of them. Work my way to Joe. Chip away at the problem, like Reverend Ben said to do. I know in my heart I just have to. Even if I can’t solve it, I won’t rest easy until I’ve tried.
Season of Angels (9781101612170) Page 5
