The Renewal

by Terri Kraus

Mike couldn’t do that, not this time.

  “I have to go to the store to try on clothes,” he said instead, knowing that other than getting shots at the doctor’s office, the thing Trevor hated most was trying on clothes.

  Ava danced from the living room to the kitchen, her little arms in motion, her feet, not matching her upper body, moving to a music all their own. Leslie watched the performance, and when her daughter stopped, perhaps from a degree of self-consciousness, she applauded, politely, like a mother not wanting to embarrass a child further. Ava didn’t appear to suffer from any inhibition, though, and smiled up at Leslie, then took a deep theatrical bow.

  “Don’t you hear the music, Mommy?” Ava asked.

  “Music? Where?”

  “Just listen,” Ava insisted and put a finger behind her ear and pushed it out farther, as if to scoop up the notes.

  Leslie tilted her head. Then all of a sudden, she did hear music, music that sounded like it was from an old French movie. Leslie didn’t recall any French movies she may have seen specifically, but there were accordions with strings and a warbled soprano voice accompanying it—all of which added up to French in Leslie’s mind—and all coming from downstairs, she realized, ebbing through the floorboards and joists, not really loud, but definitely there. Ava’s dance had been in harmony with the music, after all.

  “That’s Mrs. Alice’s music,” Ava declared. “She dances to it. That makes Mr. Frank laugh. Then she laughs too, and sometimes they both dance.”

  Ava had been given permission to visit the Adamses—only if she asked her mother and asked them if it was okay. Alice, not yet a mother, delighted in the small child. Ava occasionally returned with a feather boa wrapped dramatically over her shoulders, dragging the ends on the floor, looking like a glamorous urchin.

  “Can I go down and see if I can visit?” Ava asked, almost pleading.

  “Sure,” Leslie said. She had made Alice promise to be honest and send Ava back upstairs if ever they were involved in something important or if Ava would prove a nuisance. She made her promise-promise, and Alice did so, crossing her heart with her finger, making an X.

  Just as Leslie was ready to close the door, she heard Ava say in her best grown-up voice, the voice Leslie had been working with her to use with all adults, “Hello, Mr. Reidmiller.”

  Leslie held the door open and looked out. Mike Reidmiller was at the bottom of the stairs. He offered a slightly self-conscious wave.

  “I would have called, but I’m not so good on the phone. Can I come in for a few minutes?”

  “Of course,” she replied, holding the door open wider, inviting him inside. There was a hint of a man’s cologne in the air. “That’s a nice shirt, Mike.”

  He tried his best not to look smug. “I know no one drops in on anyone without asking nowadays, but I’m just so bad at calling, and the small-talk thing. I thought I would just give this a shot. I really hope you don’t mind. I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Are you in the middle of cooking dinner or something?”

  “No. Ava’s downstairs for a while. She loves the new tenants, Mr. and Mrs. Adams. Mrs. Adams is like a big child, I guess.”

  Mike nodded, knowingly. “I know. I went to high school with Alice. Alice Barret. She was a real cutup back then. We figured she’d move to Pittsburgh or Philadelphia and not come back to Butler, ever. You know—the bright lights and the big social scene and all that. But now she’s back.”

  “I could make coffee,” Leslie volunteered. She felt like she’d been making a lot of coffee in recent days.

  “No. I need to be honest. I’m trying to cut down on coffee. It gives me gas.”

  She saw a very pained look on Mike’s face and wanted to smile, but did not, knowing he was kicking himself for bringing up an awkward topic. At least, she hoped that was why he was grimacing.

  “Maybe a glass of water. Or soda, if you have one?” he asked.

  “Sure. I was at the warehouse club this week, and I sometimes treat Ava and myself to some sodas. I know they’re probably no good for you, but for a treat, sometimes it’s okay.”

  Refusing the offer of a glass with ice, Mike popped the top of the can and took a long swallow, as if composing himself. “Leslie, I’ve been wanting to talk to you … ever since that night … when I, when we … you know. And there was that dinner thing, too, which was also … nice.”

  “I remember, Mike,” she replied. “I remember both events very clearly.”

  He smiled at that. Leslie hoped she hadn’t replied with too much enthusiasm. She had enjoyed that moment. She liked being found attractive by a man, and she enjoyed that small thrill of an unexpected kiss, but she wasn’t sure where it would lead. She didn’t even want to think about it—not all that much.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. It keeps me up at night. Sometimes, anyhow. I really enjoy being with you, Leslie. I’m enjoying this, even though I’m as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

  Leslie felt sorry for him. “Don’t be nervous, Mike. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  Mike nodded earnestly. “I hope so. But … I want to be more than friends.”

  It was a statement Leslie had anticipated—almost since that one evening that made Mike so nervous.

  “I know what an attractive woman you are, Leslie. I know you could have any man you wanted. I know I’m not on the top of anyone’s ‘Most Handsome’ or ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ list. But I want to move to the head of the line. I don’t know how you feel about all this … but … have you thought about remarriage? I know you’ve been divorced for a short while, just like me. At first, I didn’t want to hear anything about it. It hurt. I was hurt. I hated what happened, and I didn’t ever want to risk having to go through that sort of hurt again. But over time, I got over it. I bet the same thing has happened to you. Time fixes things.”

  Mike waited for Leslie to say something. It was obvious that he wouldn’t wait long, that he’d rehearsed his words—maybe not the exact words, but the basic content, the progression, the tone.

  “I’ve thought a lot about remarriage,” he continued. “I know Trevor really needs a mom. He’s different now than he was. Less tender, maybe. He needs a woman in his life. And so do I.”

  Mike must have read something in Leslie’s face. Shock wasn’t the word, exactly. Panic wasn’t the word, either. Maybe unease, or concern, or confusion as to what to say and how to reply—she could see him assessing her expression.

  “Leslie, I’m not asking for an answer now. Good heavens, not just like that, out of the blue. But, hey, we’re both older. Neither of us has a lot of time to waste … not that being with you is a waste, don’t get me wrong. But if marriage to someone—me or anyone else—is out of the question, then I wondered if you could tell me that. So our time isn’t … used up. So … we could move on to other people.”

  Mike took a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped it across his forehead. “I’m really nervous, Leslie. I’m doing all the talking and you’re sitting there, looking so beautiful, and I don’t know what else to say.”

  Leslie knew she had to say something. All the inner dialogue flew past in a rush: Is safe okay? Is looking for security okay? How much does Ava yearn for a father? How much do I want to have a man hold me and love me and make me feel wanted again? Do I wait for my heart or do I listen to my head? Do I accept “good enough” and try to make it better?

  “Mike …”

  He leaned forward, took a long drink from his can of soda, wiped his forehead again, and waited.

  “Mike, I know how hard it is being a single parent. I don’t know who has the harder job—a single mother or a single father. It’s hard not having an adult to share life with. I’m lonely lots of times. I’m never alone, but I am lonely.”

  “Exactly,” Mike replied.

 
“You are a very sweet man, Mike. I am so blessed to have you in my life. But I would be lying if I said that I was ready. I’m dealing with a lot right now. And I’m just beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I like being with you, Mike. Ava likes you and Trevor. I like Trevor too. I know we’re older and we can’t pretend we’re in our twenties again and footloose.”

  Mike placed the empty can on the table, as if fearing the worst and that he would have to leave in a hurry.

  “I can tell you this: I would like to continue to see you. As a friend. Friendship can deepen. Let’s see what happens. And I promise you, Mike: If I change my mind, if I see that we’re not to be—you know, a couple … a couple with a future—then I’ll tell you right away. But, for now, let’s be friends. Let’s see what happens, okay?”

  Mike didn’t appear to be crestfallen, nor did he appear to be overjoyed. His expression was somewhere in the middle of that range. “Okay. Sure. I can do that, Leslie. But you have promised to tell me, all right?”

  “I have, Mike. And I also promise that it won’t take … I don’t know … more than—a year? Does that sound unreasonable?”

  “Okay. A year. We decide … you decide in a year. I can live with that.”

  “Good.”

  Mike stood up. Leslie could see where Mike had darkened his shirt with perspiration. He had been that nervous. She realized what he’d just done was incredibly brave.

  “Did you know that Three Rivers Restorations is doing a show on the downstairs space?” Leslie said, as much to lighten the atmosphere as anything else.

  “What?” Mike’s eyes were wide. “Really? Three Rivers Restorations? That’s like my most favorite show ever. I mean, of shows like that. On cable. I always watch it. I love that Cameron woman. She is so funny.”

  “I guess she’ll be here this Saturday.”

  Mike’s jaw all but dropped.

  “Really. Honestly? Can I … no, that sounds forward, even for me.”

  “No, what?” Leslie replied.

  “Well … could I come and watch? Maybe I could get her autograph. Would that be okay? I don’t want to be a pest.”

  At this moment, had Mike asked if Leslie cared for him, she would have said yes, so sweet and considerate was his asking.

  “I expect you to be here, Mike. The crew gets here at the crack of dawn, but she’s supposed to arrive at 9:00. I want you here to watch—and help. Okay? Bring Trevor so Ava will have someone to play with.”

  “That is great, Leslie. That is so great. Trevor will be so excited.”

  After he’d left, she watched through the french doors as Mike walked down the street with almost a bounce in his step, as if the excitement of the show wiped clean any disappointment he may have experienced in the minutes earlier.

  In spite of what she’d just said, and in spite of her own reservations, she grew fonder of him with every passing moment.

  Amelia Westland

  Lyndora, Butler County, Penna.

  September 12, 1884

  A note, a time, darkness, and more pebbles on the window.

  Julian takes me in his strong arms and places a hundred sweet kisses on my lips amidst his caresses, holding me tight, so tight that I can feel his heartbeat. I blush, yet I do not protest.

  He tells me his plans to commence his travels are nearing completion. He has saved some monies, enough to take two people on horseback to Ohio and down along the Ohio River, where itinerant preachers have prior traveled, he claims, and have met with good and enthusiastic response, providing support, and won souls.

  Julian, in between kisses, tells me, much to my surprise, that we could travel together as brother and sister, so no suspicions would be aroused. I assumed that such an arrangement would be completed with a quiet marriage; yet Julian says nothing of such a union.

  And in the midst of his kisses, and more, I forget to press him on the issue, yet I remain confident that his intentions toward me are noble. Nor do I converse of my affiliation with Mr. Middelstadt, who seemingly has taken a decided fancy to me.

  Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation;

  and uphold me with thy free spirit.

  Then will I teach transgressors thy ways;

  and sinners shall be converted unto thee.

  —Psalm 51:12–13

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CAMERON DANE WILLIS, THE HOST of Three Rivers Restorations—“Showing the Best of Restoration in Western Pennsylvania”—reached up, grabbed the top of the door and the frame of the car above her head, and hoisted herself out of her seat. She had been overjoyed that Ethan, her husband, had offered to drive her to Butler. He did not always enjoy her shoots.

  “A whole lot of standing around in between scenes, listening to the crew gripe about the director and the director gripe about the talent and the talent gripe about the homeowner and the homeowner running around trying to get everyone to wear those stupid booties on their shoes—and they never fit.”

  Cameron forgave her husband often and seldom insisted on him accompanying her. But this was different.

  “I can’t even see the pedals in the car anymore,” she moaned. “And I hardly even fit behind the steering wheel. And it’s Alice and Frank’s.”

  Ethan had taken pity on his very pregnant wife and had driven the two hours south to Butler that morning with her in the car, turning and twisting in her seat, attempting to find a comfortable position for her growing body.

  Chance, Cameron’s stepson, had spent the previous night with his best friend, Elliot, and the two of them would amuse themselves at the Hewitts’ until Ethan and Cameron drove back home to Franklin on Saturday evening.

  As Cameron exited the car, Alice Adams ran to greet her. She had been waiting by the door since 8:00, wanting to make sure that she was the first person Cameron saw. Alice embraced her as best she could, trying to wrap her arms around her, avoiding the swell of her stomach.

  “I am so pregnant,” Cameron said, as if needing to explain. “It feels like I have been the size of an elephant for months now.”

  “But you are glowing, just glowing. I am so happy for you. Frank is so happy.”

  Cameron smiled. She was aware that pregnancy suited her. It rounded her face, it toned her skin. All of the horrible things that some pregnant women complained about seemed to happen in reverse to Cameron.

  “Thanks, but now I need a bathroom. That’s the downside of pregnancy.”

  Alice took her by the arm and led her toward the front door of the store. She waved to Ethan. “Hello, Ethan. I’ll be back for you later.”

  Ethan waved back and leaned against the car, as if he was accustomed to leaning against the car in these sorts of situations.

  Cameron slipped in and out, looking refreshed.

  Alice drew her close. “What does Chance think about this—getting a baby brother or sister?”

  Cameron shook her head. “He thinks the whole thing is ‘pretty icky.’ That’s what he told his friend Elliot, who told his mother, who told me. But I know he also is excited to get to be an older brother. He’s been lonely.”

  Alice whispered the next question. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

  Cameron pretended to be shocked, then quickly relented. “Ethan will kill me if he knew that I knew. And he would kill you if he knew that I knew and told you. He refused to have the doctor tell us when we were there together for the ultrasound. So I called the doctor later to find out myself and swore everyone to secrecy.”

  “So what will it be?” Alice was atremble.

  Cameron whispered, “You can’t breathe a word of this, but buy a pink baby outfit.”

  “Ah! Italians make the most divine baby clothes and shoes you’ve ever seen,” Alice answered, elated, and hugged her again. It was obvious that Cameron was used to getting hugged by
now.

  As the two of them untangled, Cameron looked around the mostly empty first floor.

  “So tell me, Alice, what’s the plan for this space?”

  Amidst the crew setting up lights in the still almost-empty space, Alice and Cameron walked—well, Alice walked, and Cameron mostly waddled—through the space, Alice declaring in a loud voice what she planned to do here and there and what colors they might use and what finishes she’d selected, and what lighting types, and where the seating areas would be and the table placements and the kitchen layout. Everything was on paper, and nothing was built, but everything “would be fantastic,” Alice declared.

  “I loved the pictures of this place you sent me,” Cameron said as she settled down into a folding chair. “It looked old and quirky.”

  Alice hovered around Cameron, pointing and directing. “Everyone loved our place in Pittsburgh. I loved it and was sorry to sell. Everyone said we should franchise. I don’t know about that, but after our trip, even before our trip, I knew I couldn’t stay away from the restaurant-slash-retail business. It is just too much of an adventure. You never know who’s going to walk through the front door.”

  “Speaking of not knowing who is coming through the front door …” Cameron said as she struggled to get up.

  “Sit down, stay down,” Jack scolded in a most solicitous manner. “I can come to you.”

  He bent to her, and his embrace was tender. “You look great. How do you feel?” he asked as he pulled up a chair next to her.

  “Like a great big balloon. Other than that, fine.” Cameron was telling the truth, but she was still beaming.

  “Well, I’m so excited for you and Ethan. You’ll be wonderful parents.”

  She took his hand and held it tight. “I hope so. It’s such an unknown. I know Ethan has gone through it before—but I haven’t. Sometimes I worry a bit.”

  Jack squeezed her hand in return. “You’ll do fine.”

  “It’s so nice that we get to see each other again. I can’t say I ever thought this would happen,” Cameron said.