Wounded Grace

by Tanya Stowe

  But apparently, he’d said the wrong thing again because Madison tensed. With a quick shrug of her shoulder she placed the casserole dish on the counter, spooned out a helping and popped the plate in the microwave.

  “Don’t worry. Friends and neighbors have been dropping off food. You’re not in danger of me poisoning you.”

  As soon as the microwave dinged, she placed the plate in front of him, and pulled out a bowl of fruit salad from the fridge. Plopping it on the table, she said, “I have some phone calls to make. Just leave the dishes. I’ll clean up later. When you’re finished, the third door on the left is your room. Rest while you can. We’ll talk later.”

  With that, she spun and slipped through a door to an exterior flight of stairs that would take her into the back yard. Lance paused with a forkful of tuna casserole halfway to his mouth and watched the door close behind her. He couldn’t stop the little sigh of relief that escaped his parted lips.

  ****

  Madison scrubbed soap bubbles over the back of the plate. Washing dishes was relaxing for her, something she never had time for in her life before. The lemon scent of the soap drifted up to her as she wiped another plate and rinsed.

  The big house was quiet, so quiet she could hear the Grandfather clock ticking by the door. She looked up at the dark window, framed by red-gingham curtains, and saw her reflection. Seeing herself always gave her a little jolt. She looked the same, but she expected to look different after so much change. Her life before the accident looked nothing like her life after. So much had happened to her, she felt as if those amazing events should show on the outside. But they didn’t.

  Things here at Heart’s Haven should be different, too. Mr. Hart was gone and everything felt empty. Hollow. She hadn’t mourned the loss of her career, her husband, or her home as much as she now mourned the loss of that wonderful old man.

  She’d tried to push aside her grief to help Vivian wherever she could, answering the non-stop phone calls, keeping food on the table and the dishes cleared away. Once she knocked on Vivian’s bedroom door and found her friend staring at her closet, unable to choose an outfit to wear. Madison had pulled out a top and a pair of slacks and laid them across the bed.

  Hart’s nephew, David, and his wife, Pia, were not faring much better. Madison hadn’t exaggerated when she told Lance that Hart was the glue that held them all together.

  Her instincts about Lance had been correct as well. Level-headed, patient, and kind, he’d led them all through the non-stop phone calls, visitors, appointments, and arrangements. His was the strong, thoughtful presence they needed…except of course, whenever she was around. Lance struggled to contain his resentment any time she showed her face. Things had been like that between them for years. Madison hadn’t really expected much of a change. Still, she couldn’t stop a little sigh of regret as she tackled the pots.

  Their relationship hadn’t always been this strained. She was a college freshman when she first met Vivian. One of her instructor’s had brought Vivian in to speak to the students about the business end of interior design. Madison and Vivian had hit it off immediately. Vivian took Madison under her wing and became her mentor and friend.

  After that, Vivian, her husband, her brother Lance and his new bride, Gwen, opened their homes to Madison. She considered them family and opted to visit them more than she did her parents’ chaotic house.

  It wasn’t until she met and married Tony that things began to go sour. But was that true? Now that she thought about it, she realized things had begun to change long before that.

  Madison searched through her memories, trying to pinpoint exactly when Lance and Gwen’s attitude changed toward her. It hadn’t been one moment, one incident, but a gradual transition. And now that she really thought about, maybe her attitude had changed first. Maybe they had only reacted to her.

  A noise at the front of the house ended her woolgathering. There were more pots and pans than she realized. Bits and pieces of leftover dishes filled the fridge, not enough to make a full meal, so Madison had put together a large pan of lasagna. If she didn’t get busy, she’d still be here cleaning when Lance returned.

  David, Pia, Vivian, and Lance spent most of the afternoon at the funeral home making arrangements for the service. They were calling it a celebration of life. Madison liked that. What’s more, she was sure Mr. Hart would, too.

  Vivian and Pia had returned, exhausted and wrung out. Vivian went straight to bed.

  “Pia, please have a bite,” Madison encouraged the younger woman. “All my work will go to waste if you don’t.”

  Her guilt trip worked. Pia agreed to eat a small portion of lasagna before she left. Madison was relieved. She was actually a bit worried about the lovely Pia who looked even more pale and fragile than Vivian.

  You know why.

  Yes, I know. I wonder how long it will take Pia to realize why.

  Be patient.

  Madison nodded. Patience was something she’d learned only recently. Lying immobile in a hospital bed had taught her how to be patient…and how to listen.

  Smiling, she slid the last pan into the soapy water and started to scrub. The sound of the front door clicking open wiped the smile off her face. Lance was back, and she wasn’t finished. Gritting her teeth, she steeled herself for the inevitable awkward moments.

  He walked into the kitchen, and she noticed—yet again—that he hadn’t changed much over the years. His dark hair was streaked with gray at the temples. He’d stayed fit and trim, and still had the same even features, the same calm demeanor that put everyone at ease. Still, right now, those handsome features looked drained and weary. His steps faltered when he saw her standing at the sink. “Oh, hello.”

  She smothered a sigh. He sounded about as pleased to see her as he had the day he arrived.

  “I’m just finishing up. I’ll be out of your hair in just a moment.” She turned back to her work. “There’s a plate of food for you in the fridge.”

  “Thanks. I think it might help.”

  Madison didn’t ask what it would help. She was tempted, but it would only lead to more conversation and that was dangerous territory. She forced her lips to seal in a tight line.

  Lance placed the plate in the microwave and punched the buttons. As he stood waiting, he braced his hands on the counter and shook his head.

  “I didn’t realize what an important part Andrew played in the lives of the folks around here.”

  Madison hesitated, trying to come up with something non-committal to say. “Mr. Hart was one of those special people.”

  “I’ve never heard you call him by his given name. Why is that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know…just my way of showing him respect, I guess. I had a lot of respect for him.”

  The microwave dinged. He opened it and took out the plate.

  “That’s how David talks about him, too. A mixture of awe and exasperation.”

  Madison smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Yes, that’s it exactly. One never knew just how to take Mr. Hart. He always put up this grumpy front, but deep down, you knew he had the kindest heart. Still, he never backed down from saying the most truthful things, even if they were painful.”

  “You’re talking about things the angels told him.” Lance’s tone sounded almost doubtful, and she turned to watch him as he sat down at the breakfast bar with his plate.

  “Don’t you believe he talked to the angels?”

  Lance paused. “Yes…at least I think so. I’d like to. My faith tells me I should. Vivian’s told me so many stories. I accept them, and I feel it in here.” He pointed to his heart. “But when it gets to my head, the reality, the touch and feel and must-see reality makes it slip away.” He paused and slipped a forkful of food into his mouth, staring off into the distance. After a moment, he looked her way again. “How about you? Do you believe?”

  Madison thought of her own, ever-present, comforting voice and nodded. “Yes. I believe. Especially in guardian angels.”<
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  3

  “Well, whether he talked to angels or not, Hart had a profound effect on everyone here. David has some really big shoes to fill.”

  “Is that where you were, with David?”

  “He asked me to pray with him at his church. He feels terribly inadequate.”

  “He shouldn’t. He’s a great pastor.”

  “And a faithful follower. But he’s so young…” Lance pushed the lasagna around his plate. “So inexperienced. Life has barely knocked him around. He still has much to learn.”

  Madison sighed. “Like how to live with your mistakes.”

  “Or your losses,” Lance added, his voice so low she could barely hear him.

  She was sure he was thinking about Gwen. With a quick glance in her direction, he dove into the lasagna.

  “Wow, this is really good. Please be sure to thank the lovely ladies donating all this food. I’ve eaten like a king since I’ve been here.”

  Madison turned back to her sink full of dishes. “Actually, I made the lasagna.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she turned around to see him frozen, a surprised look on his face. “I thought you didn’t cook.”

  “I never said I didn’t cook. You all just assumed.”

  “But you never brought anything to our dinners, never offered up dishes you prepared. You always brought the beverages or purchased a bakery sweet.”

  “What was the point?” She shrugged. “Vivian and Gwen were practically gourmet cooks. Why would I even try to compete with that?”

  Did her tone sound as inadequate as she had felt? A quick glance at Lance’s startled face assured her it did. Releasing another heavy sigh, she pulled the plug on the dishwater and dried her hands.

  “Vivian and Gwen were good at…everything. I was younger and inexperienced. I always felt just a little short of the mark.”

  Now his facial features expressed real shock.

  “Short of the mark? Gwen and I thought you were the brightest kid we’d ever met. You were so full of life and excitement for the future. We thought you were going to take the world by storm. That’s what made it so difficult when Tony showed up. You became so ambitious and cocky, so full of yourself and your conquests; we could hardly stand to be around you.”

  Madison shook her head. “It was a façade. I never felt I measured up. And that’s what I liked about Tony. He showed me how to act, how to pretend to be something I wasn’t. In the end, though, it was all a pretense.”

  “I heard he divorced you while you were still in the hospital. I never thought he was good enough for you.”

  “For the record, Tony didn’t do anything to me I didn’t let him do. I was the author of my own destruction.”

  He carefully placed the fork down. “Viv told me you lost the business and had to sell the house to pay off Tony in the divorce.”

  “Well, I’m sure you would agree, the clients weren’t really mine to keep in the first place.” It was the wrong thing to say. It gave him the opening.

  “No, they weren’t. They were Viv’s.” His tone was hard.

  “Look, I’m not justifying what I did. It was wrong. But I worked hard to bring in a good number of those clients. They were mine, too, and the business was all I had. Viv was busy with her husband’s cancer, and she seemed content to let it slip away. I couldn’t. It was all I had.”

  “You had Tony.”

  “Yeah, we saw how that worked out.” Madison heard the bitterness in her own tone. It seemed to echo around the room and call her to her senses.

  In spite of all her resolve, she’s slipped back into old habits. She let Lance get under her skin and resentment had risen like a sleeping dragon. She refused to succumb to it and took a deep breath.

  “It’s all water under the bridge. The new Mrs. Harper is very happy with her new house and new husband. Tony dotes on her. She’s fresh out of law school, pretty as a newborn colt and just as ambitious as he is. I hope it all works out for them.”

  “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  She glanced over at Lance. His fork was half-way to his mouth. She’d surprised him again.

  “Yes, I do mean it.”

  He was staring at her, puzzlement written over his features. She needed to finish this conversation and get out of the kitchen before she said something even more revealing.

  “I knew what I was getting when I married Tony. He didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t. That was me. I’m the one who tried to fit in with his life and one day, I just couldn’t do it anymore. Now he’s got what he wants, and I’m free to be myself. We’ve both grown. I hope Tony’s learned from his mistakes with me and will treat his new wife differently. I know I’ve learned from mine.”

  Lance gave a shake of his head. “You have more faith in him than I do.”

  Madison studied him for a long moment, wondering why he had more resentment for her ex than she did. Maybe he just had more bitterness, period. When had he become so doubtful, so angry?

  “Let’s just say I have faith and leave it at that.” She hung the dishtowel on the rack beneath the sink. “If you don’t mind, will you wash that plate when you’re finished? Tomorrow’s going to be another long day, and I need to get some rest.” Without waiting for his reply, she let herself out the back door and hurried to the peace and safety of her bungalow.

  ****

  Lance woke the next morning to birds chattering outside his bedroom window. Sun peeked in through the cracks beneath the blinds…a beautiful spring day. Andy would have loved that little smile from God, on this, his Celebration of Life day. But somehow, it didn’t make it easier for Lance to crawl out of bed. The smell of coffee drifting down the hall finally roused him.

  Good. Viv was up already. He’d had horrible dreams about dragging her, asleep, half-comatose, and hysterical to the ceremony. He was glad they were just dreams. Running a hand through his hair, he padded to the kitchen in his plaid pajama pants and T-shirt. But the room was empty.

  The coffee maker was bubbling. A hot plate of cinnamon rolls sat on the counter and right in the middle of the room was a laundry cart. Hanging from the top rack was a plastic covered dress and Lance’s freshly-pressed suit.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Vivian said from behind him. “I completely forgot to pick up my dress.” She walked over to the rolls. “Madison even thought of this.”

  She gestured to Lance. “I don’t think I can force a bite down, but you should have one while they’re hot. Bless, Madison, for thinking of everything,” she said as she poured a cup of coffee.

  Lance fingered one of the warm rolls, hesitating even though its yeasty smell made his stomach grumble with hunger. “I have to say, she’s been kinder than I would have thought.”

  “Kind!” Viv paused, her cup poised at her lips. “This isn’t kind. Kindness flees in the face of suffering, Lance. This is love. Unconditional love. Madison’s overflowing with it.”

  His doubt must have shown on his face because Vivian let her cup rest on the counter. “What?” she asked, using the big sister tone she always used when she wanted to pry information out of him.

  He shrugged, “I guess I’m having trouble understanding how you found it so easy to forgive her after what she did to you.”

  “Maybe I understood her reasons better than you did.”

  “You must have.” He gave a shake of his head. “Because I can’t understand, for the life of me, why the girl who had everything turned into the girl who wanted more, no matter what it cost her.”

  “Don’t you?” Vivian asked, her blue eyes wide and sincere. “Don’t you even have a clue?”

  “No, I don’t. One day Madison was our friend, almost like family, and then she was just…gone…and we were all…relieved.”

  Her unwavering examination made him uncomfortable. At last she turned away. “Well, maybe Gwen understood.”

  “I’m sure she did.”

  “She probably had to point out Madison’s changes to you.”
>
  He shrugged. “She always understood these things better than I did.” He took a bite of the roll before a thought occurred to him. “Wait a minute…are you saying Gwen unjustly…”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Gwen would never unjustly accuse anyone. And I would never say she would. I adored Gwen. She was like my sister…”

  The tears that hovered perpetually on the edges of her voice finally forced their way in. Suddenly, Lance remembered why he was here and what day it was. Remorse hit him square in the chest and he hurried around the island counter to pull Vivian into his arms.

  “I’m sorry, Sis. I should have my block knocked off for bringing this up, today of all days.”

  “No, no,” she said again, reaching into her housecoat pocket for a tissue. “It’s time we talked about these things, brought them out into the open.”

  With a delicate sniff, she blew her nose, then patted his chest. “But not today. Just not today.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted over her lips and she pushed out of his arms. “I better get started. I think it’s going to take me a long time to get ready.”

  Lance watched her pause, long enough to lift the plastic-covered dress off the rack before she shuffled out the door. His tall, graceful sister, shuffling like an old lady bent in pain.

  What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be helping Vivian, supporting her and instead, he was causing her more pain. He couldn’t seem to control himself…and all because of Madison Harper.

  He didn’t understand how she’d managed to waltz back into his life and create such confusion and resentment, but it needed to stop. He would keep as much distance as possible between himself and her. Turning, he threw the half-eaten roll into the garbage.

  4

  A breeze lifted the crème colored sheer away from the window and floated it across Madison. The fresh air felt good, pleasant in the stuffy room full of people. Nearly two hours after Mr. Hart’s service and the house was still full. People continued to stream through the door to pay their respects and to pass on their concern for Viv.