Luke had given each of the kids empty boxes to pack only the clothes that still fit them. The rest of their clothes they were to put in plastic bags for donation.
Luke walked into his bedroom and started pitching the old sneakers, sweatshirts and jeans he would never wear again.
After cleaning out his dresser, he opened the door to Jenny’s walk-in closet.
For over two years, he hadn’t even turned on the light. The closet smelled musty and close. He fanned the air with his arm.
Every single sweater, dress, pair of slacks and shoes was exactly where Jenny had left it. In her last few months, she hadn’t gone out of the house much except to chemotherapy or for checkups. He’d thrown away the clothes she’d worn to the hospital the week she died. But all the rest of her things were still here.
He felt guilty and nearly like a traitor taking her jackets off the hangers and putting them in plastic bags. He decided this process was too slow. He grabbed huge armfuls of clothes and lifted them off the rod and plopped them on the floor. Then he pulled the large black bag around the clothes and tied it up. He found a cream-colored Irish wool cardigan that he’d always hated. Jenny had told him two years ago that she’d given the sweater away, but here it was, tucked into the back of the closet.
Luke didn’t realize he was crying until the pain in his chest grew so sharp he actually clutched himself and sank to the floor. “Jenny.”
He threw his head back and wailed her name and then shoved his fist in his mouth to stifle his scream. He didn’t want to frighten the kids, but he wished to heaven someone would come and keep him from being so afraid.
With tears streaming down his face, he took out another plastic bag and filled it with all of Jenny’s shoes until the floor was clear.
He was surprised that her purses, shoes and scarves looked much cheaper and more worn than he remembered.
At the far end of the closet was a tall, narrow lingerie chest that Jenny used for her underwear and personal things. When he pulled out the bottom drawers, he found snapshots. Lots of them.
Sitting on the floor, Luke went through the photographs. There were shots of Jenny when she was pregnant with Annie and later with Timmy. There were at least a hundred photographs of the various rooms in their house, before her design and decoration and after. On the back of each photograph were her notes about paint colors and fabrics, furniture manufacturers and painting processes. If she’d been a licensed interior designer like Sarah, she couldn’t have been more precise.
Astonishingly, there was only one photograph of the two of them. It was taken at Buckingham Fountain in Chicago—by a stranger, as Luke recalled. Luke was in his navy dress whites and Jenny wore a sleeveless black sundress. She was as tan as a berry and her long, dark hair fanned around her shoulders as if the breeze had just washed over her. Her eyes literally flashed at him from the photograph, and to this day he’d never seen as brilliant a smile. She was his Jenny...full of life, so willing to love and not care if she ever got a single ounce of it back. She embraced every aspect of life with eagerness whether it was the flowers and herbs in her garden, the special breads she baked for him or the sound of her children playing. Jenny loved it all. And in this picture, he realized he’d seen it that day and he saw it now—she was resplendent with joy.
Joy. That was what he missed most about Jenny.
Joy at seeing the sun sift through the leaves of the Maple trees down the boulevard. Joy at feeling the waters of Indian Lake under his rowboat. That was the lesson Jenny’s life had taught him. There was joy all around him, but he had to see it. Appreciate it. Live in it.
He touched her face, but he only felt the slick paper. All around him was a sea of photographs, but it was this one that captured him. It was almost as if Jenny had meant for him to find this picture at this very moment.
“Jenny,” he whispered reverently, and was not surprised to see his tear fall onto the photograph. He wiped it away with his thumb.
Often, Luke remembered remarking to his parents and his buddies in the navy that Jenny made him feel alive. It was as if she had enough energy and life in her for two, three—even four people.
Maybe that was why after she died, he’d felt as if he’d died with her.
“Did I do that to you, Jenny? Did I put the burden of my happiness on you?” He looked around her closet at all the things he had not given to the needy, but had clung to as if they would bring her back.
Even in death, he had still put the responsibility of his happiness, his joy, his living, on Jenny. If she were alive, she would not have pulled any punches with him and would have said, “Enough already.”
Wasn’t that what she was saying here? She wasn’t in this closet. She wasn’t in the house. She was in his heart, but in the past.
Only he could make himself happy.
The problem was that he didn’t know how.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
IT TOOK TWO days for Sarah to rehearse just how she would approach Luke about the scholarships for Annie and Timmy. She’d learned many things about Luke Bosworth, and one of them was that he didn’t take charity...for anything. He would rather die first. She had to make certain she could bluff like a gambler and fake her lines as well as any Broadway actor. If she faltered at all, he might turn on her, and then she’d have to apologize to him for not telling him the truth from the beginning. She wanted to back out of the task, but she knew that Mrs. Beabots was depending on her.
When she finally punched out Luke’s cell number, her fingers were shaking.
“Hi, Sarah,” Luke said, picking up on the first ring.
“Hi, Luke. She paused for a long moment. He had a calming voice most of the time, she remarked to herself. She’d completely forgotten the reason for her call.
“Sarah? Did you want something?” he asked. “I’m on a job and my crew is waiting...”
“Sorry. I can call back later,” she said.
“It’s okay. What’s up?”
“I was just over at the rectory talking to Father Michael about the profit we made...”
“Oh, yeah. Right. How did we do?”
“Really well. Over a quarter of a million. If I can raise another one hundred and fifty thousand, the bank will put up the half a million we need.”
“Wow. That’s great. Isn’t it?”
“It will be when I figure out where the other one hundred and fifty is going to come from.”
“You’ll do it,” he said firmly. “I have confidence in you.”
Sarah paused again, marveling at how much his approval uplifted her. She smiled. “Thanks, Luke. Thanks a lot.”
“Sure. So is there anything else?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, the subject of next year’s scholarship recipients came up. Father Michael wanted me to call you personally to tell you that Annie and Timmy were selected.”
“Selected?”
“Yes. They won the scholarships.”
“They never told me they applied for scholarships.”
“Well, the children don’t exactly apply. The tuition is just given...”
“To needy kids,” he said, cutting her off.
“No. Deserving students,” Sarah corrected.
“I’m not buying this,” Luke said harshly.
Sarah was silent. There was a long pause on Luke’s end, as well.
Then Luke continued. “There actually isn’t any scholarship fund, is there, Sarah?”
“Sure there is.”
“Since when?”
“It’s in play from time to time.”
“Let me ask you, Sarah. Did you put up the money for the kids?”
“No. I did not,” she said firmly.
“Really? Then I know just who did,” he said. “Tell you what. You go back to Mrs. Beabots and
tell her it was a nice try. But my kids will do just fine in a public school until I can get back on my feet and pay for their tuition at St. Mark’s. Got that?”
She heard a deep intake of breath on his end of the phone. She wondered just how much she had embarrassed him with the offer. She knew he was a proud man, otherwise he wouldn’t have worked so hard to hold on to his house for the kids like he had. Going to the counseling sessions must have been an even bigger step for him than she’d imagined. “I understand.”
“And Sarah?”
“Yes, Luke?” Sarah swallowed hard just knowing he was about to blast her for duplicity. She closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry for jumping to the conclusion that you were behind this scheme. I think it’s very sweet of you and Mrs. Beabots to want to do this for Annie and Timmy. It was a really nice gesture. Thanks.” He hung up.
Sarah’s mouth fell open just as Miss Milse walked into the living room.
“You want coffee?”
“Yes.” Sarah smiled. “And I’ll take a slice of your strudel, too.”
Miss Milse crossed her arms over her chest. “You never want my strudel. Only for special day. That’s what you tell me.”
“This is a very special day, Miss Milse. I think Luke and I just became real friends.”
* * *
BY EARLY AUGUST a summer heat wave had sent the mercury in Mrs. Beabots’s garden thermometer into the triple digits. Luke had finished the carriage house and it was time for the final inspection. Along with balancing her accounting book, Mrs. Beabots believed in setting all her records straight.
“I owe you an apology, Luke,” she said as she looked at the new center beam and supporting joists in the ceiling of the carriage house.
“For what?” he asked, wiping his sweaty face with a hand towel he carried in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Trickery,” she answered. “About the scholarships for the kids.”
“It was too generous,” he admitted. “I don’t know when I could pay you back.”
Lifting her chin, she assessed him with a piercing gaze. “That’s what I like about you, Luke. You’re a lot like me in many ways. Practical. That’s a good thing. Shortsighted and fatheaded decision in this case, but practical.”
“Fatheaded?” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I haven’t been called that before.”
“Always a first time,” she replied. “The other thing is,” she said, looking up as he turned on the two new ballasts of fluorescent lights. “Ah! I like that,” she said. “Where was I? Oh, yes,” she said, tapping her cheek with her forefinger. “Luke, how is the house hunt going?”
“Disaster. Cate hasn’t found a thing. I told my boss we need to go into the development business and build apartments and condos for this town. There’s nothing here!”
“Ah, but there is. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a check. “I think that covers it,” she said, handing him the check.
Luke glanced at it. The amount was to the penny that they had agreed upon. He had half expected there to be a small bonus since she was so willing to fund the kids’ schooling. “Thanks,” he said, folding the check and putting it in his wallet.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,” Mrs. Beabots said.
“Thinking what, exactly?”
“Enterprise!” She beamed brightly.
He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“First of all, I want you to promise you will not take this the wrong way.”
“Take what?”
She stuck her finger in the air and wagged it. “No! Promise first,” she retorted.
“Fine. I promise,” he said. He smiled and crossed his heart. “How’s that?”
“Perfect. This is my idea. It’s because of your predicament that this idea came to me, so I thought you should benefit from it. I want to turn my third floor ballroom into an apartment that I can rent out to folks like you in the future.”
Luke’s eyes shot out the carriage house window to Mrs. Beabots’s large Victorian house. “Ballroom.”
“It just sits there. Unused. It’s a waste of space when people like you are looking for a decent home. I seriously doubt that in the future ballrooms are going to come back.”
“That could take months. Nearly a year,” he said. “Is there plumbing up there?”
“Yes. A bathroom, but it needs updating. And a kitchen, of course. I’ll get blueprints drawn up for the layout of the rooms,” she said.
“And you want me to do the construction?”
She smiled impishly and answered, “And I want you and the children to live up there while you do the work. Rent free in partial exchange for the work.”
Luke stared at her for a thoughtful moment. “We would be in town.”
“Yes. Just as you wanted. Annie and Timmy can walk to Sunday school with me. Go up town to shop and to the library. I go once every week, by the way.”
“Do you really want to do this? It’s a lot of money to renovate like that, plus the inconvenience. The noise,” he emphasized. “You’re not used to having children around. They can be a handful.”
She waved off his misgivings as if they were bothersome houseflies. “Pish posh. You have your own entrance and a back staircase. You come and you go as you please. I had a maid once who lived up there for a year or more, and I barely knew she was around. She was waiting for her husband to get out of prison. Sad story. Anyway. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure.”
“About what, Luke? In ten days you’re going to be homeless and the kids start school four days after that. Take my deal.” She spit in her hand and stuck it out.
He laughed uproariously, spit in his hand and shook hers.
“Good,” she said. “Now, let’s go up to the ballroom so I can show you just what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SARAH STOOD AT the pulpit after the Sunday service and announced the final profit figures from the summer festival to the congregation.
“I want to thank all of you for your hard work, your time and your money. You all made our first annual summer festival such a success. Also, I am pleased to report that Father Michael and I have met with the bank, and we have a loan for five hundred thousand dollars. This loan is contingent upon our ability to raise the final one hundred and fifty thousand for the renovation. The only way that we can raise this money is directly from all of you. Over the next several weeks, I will personally contact each of you to discuss what kind of donation you feel you can make to the building fund. I hope you don’t all run and hide each time you see my name come up on your caller ID, because you will find that I am relentless. It would be best if you take the time now to think about what you can afford before I make that call. Lump sums are always welcome, but I don’t expect that from anyone.
“Secondly, I have informed the bank that St. Mark’s will continue with the summer festival for the next five to ten years, until we pay back all of the money we borrow. In addition, if the festival continues to create the kind of revenue we saw this year, those funds will be used for the upkeep of the church and school in the future.”
Mrs. Beabots sat next to Maddie and Isabelle Hawks as they all smiled at Sarah, giving her approving nods.
Sarah started to walk away from the pulpit when she heard a familiar voice shout, “Sarah!”
She looked out to the congregation and saw Charmaine holding up her hand and then rising from her seat. Sarah’s face broke into a happy smile. “Charmaine.”
“Sarah.” Charmaine stood and looked around her at her friends in the church. “I know I speak for all of us when I say, thank you, for everything you’ve done for us. Your summer festival was successful becaus
e of your creative promotion, your organization, your impossible amount of energy and innovative ideas.” Charmaine began applauding and the rest of the congregation and Father Michael joined in.
Charmaine turned back to Sarah. “To show my appreciation, I am willing to pledge the remaining money, on one condition.”
Sarah was dazed as Charmaine announced her pledge. Her boss—her friend—had probably given her the best gift of her life, by letting her go when she did, allowing Sarah to find her purpose in life again. And now she was giving her yet another gift. Sarah almost couldn’t comprehend this kind of benevolence.
Mrs. Beabots turned around in her pew and looked at Charmaine. “What’s the condition?”
“That Sarah come back to work immediately.”
Sarah clamped her hands to her cheeks. “No way! I mean. Way. I mean, yes!” Sarah rushed down the altar steps to Charmaine and hugged her. “This is wonderful! Thank you so much!”
“You see, Sarah? I had to pledge that money. You won’t have time to be calling all these people asking for donations. You’ll be working.” Charmaine smiled.
“Yes,” Sarah beamed, a well of tears floating in her eyes. “Yes, I’ll be working.”
* * *
LUKE TRIED TO hire two of his buddies, Matt and Barry, from his construction crew to help him move, but they wouldn’t take any money.
“You can buy us some beer at the end of the day,” Matt said.
“Besides,” Barry said, rolling up his T-shirt sleeves, “when the time comes for me to move again, you’ll be obliged to do the same for me.”
“True,” Luke said. “Sorta like paying it forward.”
Love Shadows Page 20
