by Jan Thompson
Emmeline settled into the corner of a sofa and flipped the pages of her worn Bible as quickly as she could to get to the verse.
“‘Delight thyself also in the Lord: and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart,’” Olivia read aloud from her braille Bible. “This is our memory verse for this month and there will be a test when you least expect it.”
So true.
Emmeline wondered how she was going to be tested.
“The more time you spend with God, the more God will help you have the right desires that are best for you, your skill set, your talents, your life.” Olivia nodded. She rarely turned her head this way or that.
Emmeline had underlined the verse before, but this time she wanted to memorize it for sure. Not because of the pop quiz that Olivia had mentioned but because she wanted to spend the rest of her life serving God through harp music.
She’d travel everywhere and play her harp in churches and at retreats.
That’s what I want to do.
Chapter Nine
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Emmeline pushed the cart of books towards the fiction shelves.
Following her, Sebastian’s Polo aftershave lingered in her nose but she tried to keep her cool.
“What’s this?” she asked again. “Follow someone to work week?”
“Yesterday you asked me why I was there, and today you asked me if I had anything better to do. You must think I’m unemployed.”
“I can’t remember what I said to you yesterday, Sebastian.” Emmeline stopped at a bookcase and started shelving.
“I told you that immersion in your world is how I’m going to get to know you more.”
“Yes, but just because you know where I work and when doesn’t mean you have to be in my face all the time. Maybe that’s how you lost your ex.”
Sebastian seemed to brush her off. “They say if you want to know a language you’ve got to immerse yourself in it.”
Emmeline didn’t look at him. “And what language are we learning?”
“Love.”
The book Emmeline was holding slipped out of her hand and hit the carpeted floor with a thunk.
Sebastian picked it up. As he handed it back to her, he whispered in her ear. “Talia is stopping by in an hour to see her dad. Come see me in the café in forty-five minutes.”
He was too close for comfort.
Emmeline’s mind went blank.
When she said nothing, he continued. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
“I’m not on break in an hour.”
“Okay. No coffee for you. Just walk by or something. Say hello. Make it look like something’s happening between us.”
Something’s happening all right.
Mr. Glue here was stuck to the sole of her shoes and she couldn’t shake him off. It might pay dividends only if he helped her find her brother. “About my brother, when do we get to that?”
“No worries. I’ve called Helen Hu. You remember Helen? She found the Stradivarius violin for the Brooks family.”
“Right.” She knew all about it and then some.
Yes, that old episode had resulted in her loss. Then again, her short relationship with Ivan prior to his now wife’s arrival had been one-sided. She had desired him, but he hadn’t reciprocated beyond their platonic lunches.
Never again would she open her heart up to anyone.
It had almost always been one-sided.
“Helen is busy all week, but she’s going to carve out a bit of time and drive down from Savannah this Thursday evening to talk with us,” Sebastian said. “We’ll meet at my house and go from there. I’ve already sent her a retainer.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You want your brother back, don’t you? Helen’s a hunter and if anyone can find your brother, she will. After all, you did give her a very small area to search for.”
“Metro Atlanta is not small.” When Claude had gone missing five years before, Emmeline had mobilized a Facebook group to search for him.
Over the next two to three years, all the sightings had been in the southeastern area. She felt those were strong sightings, especially the ones in Georgia, because she knew her brother well.
In spite of his emotional issues, Claude had always loved their parents. He wouldn’t want to be too far away from them.
Hence, her belief that Claude would hang around the metro Atlanta area.
“To her it’s a small area. She searched the world over on every continent for Brinley’s violins, remember?”
“I bet that had cost a lot to fund.”
“Untold millions over decades. Helen’s father began the search before he passed away.” Sebastian handed her another book from the cart. “The good news is that I don’t think it’ll cost that much to find your brother.”
“I hope not.” Emmeline wrinkled her nose and tried to hold it all in. No point showing Sebastian her vulnerability when it came to her lost brother.
As a performer, she had learned to put on an air that conveyed whatever she wanted the audience to see. Whether playing the harp or on stage in a play, her true feelings had never been an issue.
And yet.
Somehow in front of Sebastian, she was unable to maintain the shell that had kept her safe for years.
Sebastian squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll find Claude.”
“You remember his name.”
“Sure.”
Somehow Sebastian ended up pushing the cart for her as Emmeline put new books on the various fiction shelves.
Then it was on to the non-fiction shelves. She couldn’t shake Sebastian from her side. He kept tagging along, hoisting big hardcover photography books and heavy cookbooks for her.
When she paused a moment too long at a large coffee table book about the history of harps, Sebastian picked it up and carried it around with him.
“What are you doing?” Emmeline asked.
“I’m going to buy this book for you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I know. But it’s on sale. Only $19.99.”
Emmeline shook her head. “Have you considered that maybe you’re taking this too far?”
“It’s just a book.”
“Not just this book. Everything. This bubble you put us in.”
“It’ll be a happy bubble when your brother comes home.”
Slowly, Emmeline nodded. “Yes. It’ll be worth it.”
“Worth all your time and trouble. You’ll see. I do appreciate what you’re doing for me. Kind of selfish of me, I know, but it also benefits you.”
“To be sure. Now go sit in the café and let me finish my work.”
Chapter Ten
At a bistro table by the window of the bookstore café, Sebastian settled down with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll. The roll didn’t taste as bad as it looked, though he could’ve done better. He couldn’t remember the last time he made one.
The bistro chair, albeit cushioned, was uncomfortable under him. It was too low for his long legs. The table was too small for his long arms. He felt like a giant Alice in that house.
Ah, what a man does for love.
At least he had Talia and his sister Skye.
Sebastian felt sorry for Emmeline. And possibly for hundreds of thousands of families of missing persons. Claude O’Hanlon was Emmeline’s only brother and her parents’ only son. He couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to lose a family member for five years, not knowing where he had gone and done or whether he was dead or alive.
Would Emmeline be devastated if Helen Hu discovered that Claude was dead?
Sebastian texted Helen to confirm that she was still coming to town on Thursday. She texted back an affirmative.
He tried not to get any sticky sugar on the pages of the harp history book as he turned the pages. Constantly glancing at his watch, he barely read the words. He was fascinated, though, by how pretty the harps looked. Music appreciation was the extent of his musicali
ty. If he were anyone, he would be the cheering section. Yes, he would cheer on Emmeline. Hearing her play Oriental the day before had touched his heart in more ways than one.
He hoped that Talia would be okay with his choosing that piece for their wedding day. Well, it would be during the family processional, so she wouldn’t even hear it if she were still in the bridal room at Seaside Chapel.
Would Talia agree to marry at that church? Lately, she had been complaining about how long Pastor Gonzalez’s sermons were, and how he seemed to be looking in her direction when he preached about sins and such.
Sebastian had no idea what she had been talking about. Still, he had noticed that Talia had been falling away from church activities, first skipping the Wednesday night Bible studies, and then saying she had a headache at precisely five o’clock every Sunday afternoon when he was supposed to pick her up for the evening service.
It had gone downhill from there as she started missing Sunday School at nine o’clock, and going into the sanctuary late for the morning service. She had been so late one Sunday morning that not only had the choir finished singing and vacated the loft, but Pastor Gonzalez was well into his eighty of ten points when Talia walked in and sat in the back.
They had always sat in the back. Sebastian wanted to move up front to be closer to the singing and music and choir and such. But Talia wanted to sit in the back row. Always the last row. That way she could be the first to leave church. Sometimes she left before the service was over, before they sang the last hymn, the last prayer, before the greeters went to the door to open it for the congregation to file out.
Then in the last several months, Talia had stopped attending Seaside Chapel altogether. It had happened the week after she had broke up with him.
Sebastian kept telling himself that Talia had found a new church. There wasn’t a shortage of churches on St. Simon’s Island, Brunswick, and the surrounding area.
It’s my fault, isn’t it, Lord?
Sebastian knew that it would take time for Talia to return to church. He hoped she would return. Why wouldn’t she? She had grown up in that church. She had been there longer than Sebastian and Skye had lived on St. Simon’s Island.
Well, Talia’s dad, Argo Perry, was no longer a deacon at Seaside Chapel, but he still attended. Sebastian wondered if he should talk to Argo about his daughter’s spiritual condition.
But I’m not her Holy Spirit.
Through the windows, the afternoon looked warm. If this were another day, Sebastian would’ve wanted to walk around and get some sun and maybe catch some surf. But not today. Not now.
Not in the next couple of months of his stratagem to get Talia back.
Bushes, small trees, and potted plants by the sidewalk outside Scrolls were in bright hues and reminded him of those hanging flower pots in Victoria, British Columbia. That was exactly it. Talia had suggested to her dad about those plants, and somehow Argo Perry had worked with the city to let his bookstore sponsored flowers and container gardens on the city sidewalks. He’d paid quite a bit for that, but for Talia, the now eighty-year-old man would do anything.
Did Jared know that bit? That Victoria was Talia’s favorite place in the whole world? Did he also know that Talia disliked shellfish and had never cooked in her life? Sure, Jared could hire a personal chef for her the rest of her life, but Sebastian knew how to cook. Did Jared know how to cook?
Clearly, Sebastian would win hands-down.
Outside the windows, vehicles and tourists and locals came and went. Sebastian glanced at his watch. Talia was late.
Then from the corner of his eye, he spotted her red Porsche. When she came out of the passenger side, Sebastian’s heart sank. He couldn’t see who was in the driver’s seat but he could guess. The car left the scene.
Sebastian hoped he couldn’t find a parking spot.
Talia clicked and clacked her way through the bookstore lobby and practically ignored Sebastian as she went to the counter to get her usual cappuccino on the house. He watched her sit there, waiting for her dad to come out of the storeroom or wherever he was this time of day.
Sebastian looked around, wondering whether Emmeline remembered it was time for her to make a casual appearance. He texted her. No reply. He texted her again for about five times. And then one more time for good measure.
No reply.
Sebastian watched Argo Perry amble to the café, peck his daughter on the cheek, and led her to an empty table to talk.
Argo saw Sebastian and waved. Talia simply frowned as she sat down. She seemed to have either gained some weight or her clothes seemed to be one size too small. She could barely hold her curves together sitting on those little bistro chairs.
Funny what went on in Sebastian’s mind. Only weeks before, he would have found Talia in that pose appealing to him.
Today he felt nothing.
Nothing!
It was as if Talia no longer turned him on.
What in the world? What was happening to him? What happened to true love?
While he was contemplating the vagaries of life, the front door opened again and his nemesis walked in.
Jared, oh Jared.
Sebastian tried to get back to his harp history book but couldn’t. He found himself staring at Jared Urquhart invading the lives of the one person whom Sebastian was supposed to care for the most—other than his own sister Skye.
Jared’s hands and palm and fingers were all over Talia’s thigh. Why didn’t Argo stop that lusty show of affections? If Talia were my daughter I’d tell Jared to get his hands off her. But Argo just sat there, oblivious to the obvious.
The bookstore manager came up to Argo to tell him something. Sebastian couldn’t hear it but Argo left with the manager.
While he was gone, Talia reached for Jared.
And Sebastian’s world ended at that point when the two lovebirds smooched in front of everyone in ways that little children shouldn’t be seeing. Disgusted with their shameless public show of affection, Sebastian slammed shut his harp history book, left his half-eaten cinnamon bun and empty coffee cup on the table, and walked out of the bookstore.
Standing there under a leafy tree catching his breath, he heard the rustling of leaves and looked up. A mockingbird flew away from a branch above his head as he felt a splat of something warm and runny on his left tee-shirt sleeve.
Chapter Eleven
Emmeline thought about the Christmas concert announcement at the Wednesday night service and felt bad that she could no longer participate in her favorite events once she went back to music school.
Well, at least for the next two years. After that, if she were to travel with a music group or something, she probably would not come back to Seaside Chapel except occasionally.
The possibilities saddened her, and she hung her head as she walked down the hallway after the evening service to retrieve her harp from the music room for the orchestra rehearsal. When she returned to the sanctuary minutes later, she heard Sebastian.
“I would offer to help you but you’re almost there.” Sebastian came alongside Emmeline.
“Well, I still have to roll it back after the rehearsal.”
“I’ll do it for you.”
“No need. It’ll be at least an hour from now. You don’t have to stay until the end of the rehearsal.”
“I have time.”
Emmeline set up her harp. “Funny, isn’t it? You have all that time. I guess your restaurant runs itself.”
“Pretty much.” Sebastian folded the trolley and put it where Emmeline pointed, off to the side. “I don’t work Wednesday nights so I can come to church. Did you see me back there?” Sebastian asked.
“Sorry. No. I was looking straight ahead.” Emmeline waved to other Seaside Chapel orchestra members, some of whom were in the Sea Islands Symphony Orchestra. The only difference was that no one get paid when they played at church. This was a free ministry.
“I’ll be sitting over there.”
“Feel free.�
�� Emmeline watched Sebastian walk to the pews. He settled down on the front row directly in front of her.
Now she felt self-conscious. Thank God she had on a pair of jeans. Some lady orchestra members didn’t realize how much church members could see up their skirts at eye level.
Since she had broken up with Ivan last fall, and spent more time focusing on God’s Word, Emmeline had begun to dress modestly not because she was turning into a conservative spinster but so that she didn’t cause any men—married or unmarried—to stumble.
For that bit of insight, she’d have to thank Olivia’s Bible studies.
The orchestra director went through several hymns for their choir accompaniment. Usually they didn’t practice the congregational songs ahead of time. They’d sight-read those.
Unfortunately for Emmeline, not every hymn required the harp. She wanted to play it all the time.
All the time!
Alas, she must console herself with the fact that every time she was privileged to play at all.
Yes, and that her audience was God alone.
May You be glorified, Lord.
Otherwise, the two hymns that had harp arrangements in it were a wash because by the time they played those pieces in August, Emmeline would be long gone to Athens, back in graduate school.
In some ways, she felt sad thinking about leaving this place. She hadn’t been here long, no more than a year, but the people had been kind to her, and helpful in so many ways whenever she had van trouble.
Speaking of which…
At least three people knew of possible used vans she could buy. She might yet find one or wait until she arrived at the University of Georgia. Meanwhile, on St. Simon’s Island, her friends, especially Skye, had offered to give her a ride whenever it rained. Everything was going well.
Everything but one matter.
Chapter Twelve
“May I see it again?” Emmeline asked Matt Garnett. She was standing at the jewelry counter at Garnett Antiques, having skipped lunch to come here this hot Thursday. Now she was salivating over something she used to not be able to afford—and now she didn’t want to afford.
