She walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, staring at the plate in front of her, not really seeing it. Esther brought the skillet of eggs over and set it on the trivet, then sat down across from Miriam.
“Try as I might, I couldn’t eavesdrop from the stove, so you’ll just have to tell me what that was all about,” she said.
“Toby brought back my mother’s cameo. I thought I lost it, but it turns out, I dropped it at school one day, and he’s had it in his pocket ever since.”
“He has? Like John keeping Meg’s glove in Little Women?” Esther beamed. “That’s so romantic.”
“You’d think that, but no, not really. If he’d just given it back to me when I thought I lost it, I wouldn’t have spent years kicking myself for my carelessness.”
“And kicking yourself for a great many other things too,” Esther said gently. “Have some breakfast and get ready for church, sweetheart. Focus on the good things of the day and see if you can’t let go of some of these feelings. It must hurt, carrying around so much inside.”
It did hurt. It hurt quite a lot, but letting go . . . The thought made Miriam’s stomach ache, and she didn’t know why. Rather than trying to explain, she smiled. “Thank you, Grandma. Breakfast looks delicious.”
“You’re welcome, and we have some refreshments left over from the party that we can eat for lunch. I enjoyed Jane’s rolls quite a bit—weren’t those nice?”
Miriam agreed that yes, Jane’s rolls were very nice as she took a bite of diced potatoes. Her headache had reduced to a dull buzz, but it was still definitely there, and she was afraid that no amount of party food would get rid of it for her.
Church was awkward at best. Miriam could see Toby out of the corner of her eye unless she held absolutely still, and that wasn’t very comfortable. It was nice to say hello to her friends and to be greeted by some who had been unable to make it to the party, and she enjoyed saying hello to Pastor Osbourne and his wife, Olivia, but the quicker she could leave, the happier she’d be.
Esther wanted to stay for a moment and visit with some of her friends, so Miriam said she’d walk home, making sure Esther would find a ride or someone to walk with too. Then she set out, so glad to be out of the confining church building and in the fresh air.
“Miriam! Wait!”
She turned to see Kitty dashing after her and smiled. Kitty never did care about social rules—she’d run down the street on a Sunday if she had a good mind to. “Let me walk with you,” she said, coming up alongside Miriam. She was only a little out of breath despite her exertion.
“Grandma wanted to visit with her friends, and I knew if I waited, I’d be there until dark,” Miriam said.
“My excuse for leaving my family behind is sheer nosiness. What’s going on between you and Toby?”
“Going on?”
“Yes! He was watching you like a puppy stares at its empty dinner bowl. It was all I could do to pay attention to the sermon—the story happening in the congregation was much more interesting.”
Miriam sighed. It felt like all she’d done since she’d arrived home was have long conversations about everything that was wrong with her. Self-reflection was a healthy thing, but so much of it in a matter of days just might be counterproductive.
“Do you think I’m being stubborn?”
“Of course,” Kitty replied without hesitation. “But we’re friends, and I will be here for you regardless.”
“And apparently, you’ll always tell me the truth,” Miriam said wryly.
Kitty tucked her arm through Miriam’s. “We all need that one person in our lives who makes us see reason, don’t we? I’m happy to be of service.”
“Thanks, Kit.” Miriam took another deep breath of fresh air. “Do you mind if we just walk for a little while without talking? I’ve done so much talking over the last few days, I feel like any more would send me right over the edge.”
Kit didn’t reply, but gave her arm a squeeze, and they continued on their way. It was just what Miriam needed—the chance to clear her head, a good friend to share the moment with, and quiet. Blessed quiet.
Chapter Nine
Jane sat with Esther and Nola on the last bench of the chapel, hoping the Lord wouldn’t mind that they were using His meetinghouse for a meeting of their own.
“I’m honestly at my wits’ end,” Esther said, accepting the handkerchief Jane handed her. “My poor girl is carrying such a heavy burden, but she’s struggling to put it down, and I don’t know how to help her.”
“It sounds like you’ve had some wonderful talks, though,” Jane commented. She’d never seen Esther so upset, and she wondered if getting involved in Miriam’s life had been a good idea. Perhaps they should have let things run their natural course.
“We really have, and I’m grateful for them. She’s shared more about her feelings than I’ve ever known before, and I believe she’s starting to understand how very much she’s loved and wanted here. But as far as Toby goes . . .”
“She still won’t speak to him?”
“No. She keeps sending him away.”
“And it’s a shame, too, because he has the most wonderful news,” Nola chimed in. “He’s just been given a job reporting for the newspaper. It’s the sort of thing he’s always wanted to do, and he’s so pleased about it.”
“I’m sure she’d be glad for him,” Esther replied. “But when he came by this morning, she asked him to leave so quickly, I don’t think she gave him the chance to mention it.”
Jane’s mind was whirling, trying to come up with a way to bring the two together and make them stay put for more than a few minutes at a time. “Esther, why don’t you invite Toby over for Sunday dinner?” she said at last. “Miriam couldn’t ask him to leave in the middle of a meal—she’s been raised to have good manners—and that would give him an opportunity at least.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Nola said. “He’s already left for home, but I could deliver the invitation myself.”
Esther nodded. “Let’s do it. It’s a bit sneaky, but if she won’t cooperate through regular means, what choice do we have?”
“None. The sneakiness was forced upon us.” Nola inclined her head. “What time should he be there?”
“Twelve thirty,” Esther replied.
“That’s perfect. One way or the other, we’ll get your girl mended and we’ll get my boy out from under my roof and bringing mayhem into my life.” Nola paused. “He’ll still come visit me, though, won’t he? I’m going to miss him when he’s gone.”
Jane smiled. “Of course he’ll come see you. You’re not losing him, you know.”
“I know. And I’m more happy than sad, believe you me. I’m just feeling nostalgic.”
Jane gave her friend a quick hug. “Everything’s going to work out for the best. You’ll see.” And if it didn’t—well, Jane wouldn’t think that far ahead. She had to remain positive that their interference hadn’t made things worse.
“Miriam? Come downstairs and set the table, please.”
Miriam passed a hand over her eyes. She must have dozed off when she lay down to rest her head. “Coming,” she mumbled as she pushed up to a sitting position. She was glad for her impromptu nap. She felt a little groggy, but the pain seemed to be gone.
She smoothed her pillow-rumpled hair, then went downstairs. Her grandmother had already set a few stacks of dishes on the table, and she noticed three dinner plates instead of the usual two. “Grandma? Are we having company?”
“Yes, dear. I’ve invited Toby to join us.”
“You . . . you have? But why?”
“Because it’s my dinner table, dear. And I can invite anyone I like.” Esther’s voice was bland, but Miriam picked up on the undertone. Yes, it was her grandmother’s right to include anyone she liked, and Miriam would set the table without complaint.
She had to wonder at her grandmother’s new feisty attitude. Perhaps spending time with the ladies of her sewing circle was bringing
it out in her.
Almost as soon as the table was set, Miriam heard a knock at the door, and she moved to answer it before Esther could say anything.
“Toby Johnson, twice in one day,” she said as she let him in. “It must be a special occasion.”
“It’s always a special occasion when I get to eat your grandmother’s good cooking.” Toby placed his hat on the small table in the hallway.
“I understand it’s just leftovers from the party yesterday.”
“Even better. I’m quite fond of leftovers.”
She led him into the kitchen, then put herself to work slicing some fresh cheese, keeping her face turned away so Toby wouldn’t be able to discern her warring emotions. When she’d opened the door and had seen him, her heart leaped, and she didn’t think it had the right to do any such thing. It was a traitor, telling her one thing and then doing something else. How could she trust herself to know what she wanted when her own heart didn’t know?
She set the cheese on the table, and they all sat.
“Toby, thank you so much for coming today,” Esther said. “It’s been far too long since I’ve had you at my table.”
“I’m delighted to be here,” he replied. “This is the nicest invitation I’ve had for a long time.”
The small talk continued as the serving platters rotated. Miriam was glad to see there was plenty of cake left—she’d likely need extra to survive this unique brand of torture. Once everyone was served, Esther said, “Nola was telling me that you’ve had some good news this week.”
“Yes, I have. Isaiah Burns down at the newspaper office liked the article I wrote about the party, and he’s hired me on as a full-time reporter.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful news. Miriam, isn’t that wonderful news?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful,” Miriam said, giving Toby a small smile.
“It gives me the opportunity to make a difference, to feel like I’m helping our community,” Toby went on. “And it also gives me some dependable work. I’m grateful for the odd jobs I’ve had, but nothing beats having a place to be on a regular basis.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Esther replied. She glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Does anyone need jam? I don’t think I put any on the table.”
“I’ll get it.” Miriam stood up so fast, she almost knocked her chair over.
Her grandmother kept the jam in a cupboard across the room, and this small errand gave her another chance to take a deep breath. She might as well just accept the fact that no matter how much she fought against it, she was going to keep running into Toby, and if it didn’t happen naturally, her grandmother would invite him over. He would always be there, like an itch on her heel that she couldn’t reach through her shoe, and she’d better start making peace with the idea.
Either that or leave again, and she’d promised her grandmother she’d stay.
She grabbed a jar of jam from the shelf and returned to the table, then forced another smile. “When do you start your job, Toby?”
“Tomorrow morning. Mr. Burns said I’d be in training for a little while, so I’m sure I won’t be handling any of the larger stories just yet, but I’m glad for whatever assignments I’m given.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a good job.” There. She’d fulfilled her duty as a hostess, and she could now go back to eating her cake. Her grandmother would take over from there.
Once the meal was over, Esther shooed them both out of the kitchen, insisting that she’d clean up without their help. Toby didn’t seem inclined to leave, and Miriam wasn’t sure what to do with him. She’d already thrown him out of the house once that day. Twice seemed like a bit much.
“Shall we go sit on the porch?” he suggested.
That suited her just fine—it was halfway between him being there and going home, a step in the right direction.
They each took one of the chairs on the front porch and began to rock, the steady rhythm soothing a few of Miriam’s unraveling nerves.
“I like it best out here after dark,” she said. “The stars are particularly bright over that copse of trees.”
“It must be beautiful,” Toby replied.
“Yes, it is.” See—she could make small talk too. She congratulated herself.
They rocked back and forth another minute, the silence looming, until finally Toby said, “How much is it costing you to hold yourself back from me?”
She blinked. “Costing me? I don’t understand.”
“I think you do understand. I think you’re fighting something that doesn’t need to be fought, paying dues that don’t need to be paid.” He reached over, took her hand, and held it. “Tell me you don’t feel that.”
She did feel that. She felt tingles racing up and down her arm. She felt his nearness, his breath, his pulse, and she wanted to pull away because it was all too much, too real. She didn’t, though, because she didn’t want him to see that she was scared.
“What are you hoping to prove, Toby? Why are you trying so hard? Can’t you see this is going nowhere?”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I see at all. I see a woman almost ready to open her heart and share what’s inside it, and I see a man eagerly waiting for that moment because that’s all he’s wanted for five long years. It’s time, Miriam. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
She looked down at their joined hands. The tingles had mellowed into a nice, warm feeling, a comfortable sensation, and now she pulled away, needing to be able to think.
If she did open up, if she did allow herself to become vulnerable to him again . . . What would happen? He could mock her feelings. He could laugh at her. He could tell her their entire relationship had been a lie, that he’d only meant to have a little fun and it was never meant to be serious. That would hurt . . . but would it hurt as badly as the burden she’d been carrying this whole time?
Could she be brave enough to let go?
She stood up and faced the lawn, her thoughts and emotions scrambling over each other as they fought to come out. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve loved you?” she finally managed to say.
“Probably as long as I’ve loved you. That’s why I don’t understand any of this. Why aren’t we together? Why aren’t we married and having babies right now?”
“Because I overheard you talking to Charlie Patterson and Ralph Hanes the night of graduation. We were all at Mary Green’s house and I was in the hallway—I heard you telling them that you had no plans after college, that you considered yourself as free as a bird. Those aren’t the words of a man who intends to get married and have those babies you’re talking about.”
“You overheard that? I didn’t even see you there.”
“I turned and ran. I ran all the way home, and the next morning, I left for my uncle’s in Denver. I couldn’t stand knowing how little our plans had meant to you—I had to get away.”
Toby came to his feet. “You thought I didn’t want to marry you? Miriam, Charlie was asking me about my career opportunities, not my marriage plans. I was telling him that I didn’t have any offers of employment.”
“You . . . were talking about work?” She leaned against the porch railing, suddenly numb.
“Yes!” He took a step toward her. “I wish you’d spoken to me. I wish you’d told me what you heard—I could have explained everything. Instead, the next thing I knew, you were gone, and your grandmother wouldn’t give me your address. She said you’d asked her not to.”
“I didn’t think I wanted to hear from you.” Miriam swallowed a few times, trying to rid herself of the lump that was forming in her throat. “And I didn’t want to talk about it—it would hurt too much.”
He looked at her, lifting an eyebrow. “This is just like chocolate cake, isn’t it?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
He pressed his lips together in frustration. “My grandmother got mad at me for eating the chocolate cake, but she never told me it was for something special—sh
e expected me just to know. Now, if I had known it was for you, I never would have touched it, but I had no idea. I’m not a mind reader, Miriam. How am I supposed to know things if I’m not told? And how was I supposed to know why you left?”
“I figured that since you didn’t want me, it wouldn’t matter if I left.”
“That’s . . . that’s just plain ridiculousness! I’m sorry, Miriam, but it is.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide what I want and don’t want? And shouldn’t I be the one to say if I want to call off our engagement? You can’t decide my feelings for me—you can only decide your own.”
The knot in her throat had turned to a ball of lead in her stomach. How wrong had she been all these years? She’d jumped to conclusions, believed things that weren’t true, and punished both of them because of it. Was she really so unable to accept rejection that she’d destroy what she had before it could destroy her?
“Listen to me, Miriam Brown. I daresay it’s time we put all this in the past, don’t you? That was five years ago—five years we’ve wasted because of conversations we refused to have. None of that matters now. The only thing that matters is that we’ve been given a second chance, and if we don’t take it, we’ll be making an even bigger mistake than we did in the first place.”
Miriam turned away again. Anger hurt less than the aching pain she’d been carrying for so long, and if she got rid of the anger, the ache would be too much to bear.
“Don’t hide from me anymore, Miriam,” he said gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She wiped her cheeks. “I’m thinking that I’ve cried entirely too much over the last two days, and I wish I’d stop.”
He chuckled. “And what else?”
“That it hurts to love. That it hurts to be open and honest.”
A Stitch in Time Page 7
