“A lot of people that you meet around here are like that. They go out of their way to help you,” she remarked.
“It’s an out-of-the-way place. I guess they’ve learned to help one another, just to survive. It’s the kind of small-town life we aren’t used to.”
That was true, Regina thought, though she felt it was something more. A certain attitude of concern for other people, whether you knew them or not. Sort of a Forrest Gump philosophy: A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet.
She didn’t want to say that to Richard. She thought he might scoff at her. To him, strangers were strangers, and friends were friends.
But maybe he was starting to see things a bit differently after living here?
“Oh . . . something else about that Mr. Cyrus. We were in the living room, looking at the track I put down under the tree, and he saw the little Bible you found. It was out on the side table. He was really taken with it. He looked it over very carefully.”
“Really? What did he say about it?”
Richard shrugged. “He asked where we found it and why it was in such good shape. I told him about the plastic wrapping. Then he asked if he could take it with him, to get an idea if it was worth anything.”
“Oh. Did you give it to him?”
“I wondered at first if I should trust him. But he gave me a receipt, and if you take a look at that shop, I don’t think he’s going anyplace real soon.” Richard stopped working and turned to gaze at her. “Do you think that was all right? I mean, it’s your book. You found it. And you own this house and everything in it,” he reminded her.
It wasn’t only her house. His name was on the deed, too. But she didn’t stop to remind him.
“I don’t think we need to worry. How much could it be worth—a hundred dollars or so? Even those editions he had in his case weren’t worth very much. It’s more of a family keepsake; that’s why I like it. I want to research some of the names on the family tree when I have a chance. There’s a historical society in town. I bet they have records about this house and the people who lived here.”
Richard grinned, returning his attention to the train set. “I doubt it’s worth anything, either. But don’t worry, we’ll get it back from him. If he doesn’t get in touch in a few days, I’ll go to the shop after Christmas and talk to him.”
Regina felt better knowing Richard would handle the matter. She was so focused on Christmas, the little Bible wasn’t high on her list of priorities. She wondered now if she would have even missed it.
“I was out on my lunch break today and found some great presents for Madeline,” she told Richard. “A beautiful heart-shaped locket in the Bramble, and I drove up to Newburyport and found some suede boots on sale in a store Molly told me about. They have fringe down the front. That’s what she wanted. I hope she likes them.”
“I wouldn’t worry. You usually pick out things she likes, a lot better than I can lately.”
Richard gave a lot of thought to the gifts he chose for Madeline, but he was typically a few years behind her taste. Regina remembered the time he picked out a big pink sweatshirt with a teddy bear on it for her eleventh birthday, which was a gift she would have really liked when she was eight. There was something touching about these out-of-sync gifts. He always thought of Maddy as his little girl.
“I’ll mark the packages from both of us,” she added, just in case he didn’t think she would.
“Okay. Thanks.” He glanced at her a moment as he gathered up the train pieces and put everything away in a cardboard box. “I’ll mark the trains from both of us, too.”
“Everything is set then. I just need to wrap these last two boxes.” Regina had been going over to the woodworking shop on her lunch hour and wrapping the boxes. All the gifts were ready to put under the tree. “I think we should spend a quiet night on Christmas Eve. I’ll make a nice dinner and we can play games or attempt the gingerbread house again.”
“That sounds good. When they go to sleep, I’ll go into town and get everything.” He paused, holding the carton to his chest. “I think we did a good job, Regina. I think the kids are going to have a great Christmas, a lot better than last year.”
“I think so, too. I wasn’t sure we would be able to do it,” she said honestly. “But where there’s a will, there’s a way, right?”
“You mean, about buying all the gifts? You did most of that. You worked so hard. You deserve all the credit,” he said sincerely.
Regina was surprised at his words. “Not all, but some,” she agreed amicably. “I didn’t even mean the gifts. They’ll love the gifts, I’m sure. But I think they’ve really enjoyed the fact that we haven’t been fighting,” she said bluntly. “They enjoyed putting up the tree together and all the things we’ve done as a family. Peacefully. That’s the best gift we’ve given them.”
He nodded. “The clothes and toys will wear out and get put aside. Even the train set,” he acknowledged. “But you can’t wear out memories, especially good ones.”
He sighed and looked down at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Was he wistful about the good times they had shared in their life together, knowing it would soon come to an end? Or had this truce between them given him hope they could somehow find their way back and save their fragile, damaged marriage? She thought he was going to say something more, but instead he turned away, heading for the back door. “I’m going to put this out in the truck. I can finish fixing it tomorrow at the shop. You can go up if you want. I’ll lock up down here and turn off the lights.”
“All right. Good night, Richard,” she said quietly. She turned and headed up to bed.
If Richard hoped for something to change, he wasn’t ready to confide in her. Maybe she wasn’t ready to hear it.
She had to be honest with herself. She had hopes but didn’t want them. Hopes were painful when they failed to materialize. Still, she couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help who you loved, she once heard someone say. She believed that was true. Underneath all the hurt and disappointment, she still loved Richard. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
RICHARD PACKED THE CARTON IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK AND covered it with a plastic tarp to protect it from any snow or frost—and from Brian’s curiosity in the morning, before he headed off for school.
He took a deep breath of the sharp, cold air and stared up at the night sky. It was the color of blue velvet, so dark and deep, and covered with a million stars, tiny pinpoints of light. This place was so remote, the night sky was amazing. He had never seen stars like this unless he was on a camping trip.
His gaze dropped to the old house, and he tallied the repairs he’d done and the ones left to do. He had managed to paint all the shutters and trim, despite the cold weather, and fix the porch steps, front and back. Little things, but they made a big difference, he thought.
The changes inside were coming along well, too. The new paint, refinished wooden doors, and the new molding helped a lot. The house had good lines and some great detail inside, though much of it had been stripped away or hidden by what he liked to call “ruin-a-vation.”
Regina had been right. The house had possibilities, more than he ever thought. By the spring, it could really be something. If he was still living here by then.
A light in an upstairs window went on. Regina was up in their bedroom, getting ready to go to sleep. He pictured her putting on her face cream, brushing out her hair.
The light glowed behind a lace curtain, and he felt a pang of longing. He wished they could go back in time, before all the trouble. Before everything between him and Regina had gotten so messed up and confused. They’d been getting along so well lately, it gave him hope. Until he remembered that they were just acting for the sake of the kids.
When he lost his job, his house, and everything he’d worked for, he’d thought he’d lost everything. But if his family broke up, too . . . that was what really mattered. Richard knew that now. He wished he could find the words to change her mi
nd. But it never seemed to be the right time, and the right words just wouldn’t come.
The light went out. He looked away, then headed back inside the dark house, feeling bleak and lonely.
WHEN ISABEL CALLED REVEREND BEN THURSDAY MORNING TO ASK IF SHE could see him, he sounded pleased but concerned. “Is everything all right, Isabel? You sound . . . distressed.”
“I’m all right, but something has come up. A big decision for me. Tucker Tulley told me that the boards will recommend me to the congregation to be called as their full-time minister.”
“Yes, I know. They asked my opinion on the matter. It goes without saying, I was totally in favor. I think this church would be very blessed to have you.”
Isabel was overwhelmed by his generous words. It meant so much to hear that from Ben, who must feel some conflict about recommending a successor.
“I think any minister would be blessed to serve here. But . . . I’m not sure if it’s right for me,” she added.
“I understand. This is hard to talk about over the phone. Do you have any plans for Christmas Eve? Carolyn and I will be spending a quiet night at home. Why don’t you come over and have supper with us?”
“I’d like that very much,” Isabel answered. They set a time, and when Isabel hung up, she already felt a bit better.
ISABEL WAS BUSY ALL DAY THURSDAY PREPARING FOR THE CHRISTMAS service—proofreading the bulletin, writing her sermon, and watching over all the tiny details of a special service: the flowers and candles and music.
Last but not least, she walked into the sanctuary late in the afternoon. Carl and Max were there, putting the finishing touches on a huge display of red and white poinsettias right in front of the altar.
“That looks beautiful. What a terrific job you’ve done,” she said sincerely.
“Same as we do every year,” Carl replied in his low, laconic tone. “It’s this nice metal rack that does all the work; sets them up all even.”
“Whatever your trick, it looks perfect.”
Max smiled and stepped back. She could see he was pleased with their accomplishment.
“The sanctuary is gleaming. No sign at all that it was recently a shambles,” she added quietly, meeting Max’s eye.
“Just keeping my side of the bargain,” Max mumbled.
“Yeah, and you put your shoulder into it,” Carl confirmed.
Isabel could see Carl’s approval meant a lot to Max.
“My dad said I could keep working here . . . if you want me.” The boy looked from Carl to Isabel, then back to the old man.
“What do you say, Carl?” Isabel asked. “Do you still need a helper?”
“If he’s trained and minds me,” Carl replied.
Isabel smiled at Max. “Looks like you’re officially hired. I asked the trustees, and Mr. Oakes said the church can offer a small hourly wage.” She named the figure and saw Max smile.
“That’s great! I can’t wait to get paid. I used almost all my savings on Christmas presents,” he added.
“Oh, did you do some shopping this year?” So Max was thoughtful and mature enough to buy presents. That was good to know, especially when it seemed that his father might take little notice of Christmas.
“Sure, I did. I got stuff for my dad and my grandparents, and my aunt, uncle, and cousins. We’ll be with them on Christmas Eve. I got something for you, too,” he added quickly. “When can I bring it here?”
Isabel had gotten Max a gift, too. “How about tomorrow, on Christmas Eve?”
“I have to go out with my dad.”
“Oh . . . well . . . maybe after Christmas then. That would be fine with me.” She was about to ask if he would come to church on Christmas Day, then decided not to. He hadn’t mentioned it, and it seemed pushy for her to make the suggestion.
“Sure. Whatever.” He shook his head. She wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or felt a little miffed at her, thinking she didn’t care that much about his present.
“You can bring it any time. I’ll be around the church a lot the next few days.”
“Sure. I know.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and checked the text. “My dad is waiting for me.”
“Sure. See you soon. And if I don’t see you before Saturday, Merry Christmas.”
She smiled into his eyes, wishing she could give him a hug. But he slung his pack on his shoulder and shrunk away.
“Oh, yeah . . . Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas, Carl,” he called to the sexton.
Carl stood in the doorway of the sacristy, on the hunt for more candles. “Merry Christmas, boy. See you in the new year.”
Isabel hoped she would see the boy soon. Max waved as he headed out to meet his father.
She returned to her office to close her computer and gather her belongings. She was about to shut off her e-mail account when a new message caught her attention.
It was from a mission in Nicaragua, where she had applied months ago. Finally, an answer. She clicked it open with her eyes squeezed shut. She almost couldn’t bear to see what it said.
The note was short and to the point. A post had opened matching her skills and experience. They would be happy to have her, and she could start immediately. Was she still available for the post? The head of the mission, Reverend Malcolm Buckley, had signed it himself.
Isabel’s mouth hung open in astonishment. She stared at the note, unable to believe that now, of all times, she would receive this letter and be faced with such a difficult choice. As if her decision to stay or leave Cape Light wasn’t confusing enough.
The Lord never gives you a heavier burden than you can carry, she reminded herself. Though He does expect you to build a few new muscles as you tote it along.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SNOW HAD JUST BEGUN TO FALL AS ISABEL DROVE ACROSS TOWN to the parsonage. Isabel hoped that it wouldn’t pile up too much and make it daunting for people to come out tomorrow to church. But a fresh coat was welcome, making the world clean and new again, quite in keeping with the real meaning of Christmas, she thought. A new life. A fresh start. A clean slate.
All in the form of a tiny baby.
She had been so rattled by the events of the week—first the offer to be the minister here, then the e-mail from Nicaragua—that she’d hardly worked on her Christmas sermon. She had a rough draft, of course, but she would definitely make this an early night and have some time later, when she got back to her room, for the editing and polishing.
The truth was, she felt too much static in her mind right now to think clearly and focus on her writing. A good talk with Ben should help clear that up.
The parsonage looked very charming, dusted with snow. A large wreath decorated the front door and the bay window glowed with the warm lights within, framing the family’s Christmas tree.
“Isabel, so glad you came to see us tonight.” Carolyn greeted her warmly at the front door and led her inside. Ben came out of the living room to welcome her, too. He looked very well, she thought. You would never guess he’d had open-heart surgery just a few weeks ago.
“Come right inside and warm up.” He led her into the parlor to a seat near the hearth that was roaring with a large fire. A row of stockings hung across the mantel. Isabel saw Ben’s and Carolyn’s names, but also many others, which she assumed were the names of their children and grandchildren.
“Wow, Santa makes a lot of deliveries here, doesn’t he?” She forced a smile, but the sight made her a little homesick.
“Oh yes, he does. I thought as I got older I wouldn’t bother with stockings at all. But I was mistaken,” Carolyn admitted with a smile. She had brought in a tray of cheese and crackers and a dip with vegetable sticks arranged around it on a plate. Now she handed Isabel a glass of red wine.
“Live and learn,” Ben said. “We wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s the great pleasure of life, watching your children grow up and have children of their own.”
“How about your family, Isabel? What do they do for Christmas?” Carolyn
asked.
“They usually congregate at my parents’ house. I have three older brothers, all married. One stayed in Minnesota, another is in North Dakota, and another is in Portland, but he comes back when he can. And there are loads of nieces of nephews,” she added with a laugh. “I seem to be the only real wanderer, though I do get home for Christmas when I can.”
“But not this year,” Ben noted.
“No, not this year,” she acknowledged.
“You must miss them.” Carolyn passed her the tray and Isabel took a dab of goat cheese on a cracker.
“I do miss them,” Isabel admitted. This was the hardest time of the year for her in that respect. She was otherwise usually very happy in her independent lifestyle. “We talk over the phone a lot and e-mail practically every day. And this year, we’re going to have a video chat on our computers so I can join them for a little while at least.”
“It is amazing, all these high-tech innovations,” Ben said. “When I was young, we used to see predictions about telephones with TV screens and I thought, well, maybe someday, but probably not in my lifetime. Yet here it is. I can’t keep up.”
“I can hardly manage, either. But I have some good tech support. That boy Max, who’s been helping Carl at church, helped me set up the Internet phone program. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
Carolyn nodded. “How is he doing? Is he still working at the church?”
“He just completed the time he promised. He did a good job, too. Even Carl said so.”
“Carl did? Well, that’s high praise indeed,” Ben agreed.
“He wants to continue working after school as a helper. The trustees have agreed to give him a small wage. I think that was very good of them, considering how they felt when he broke into the church,” she noted.
“They’ve really turned the other cheek,” Carolyn said.
“Yes, they have. With a little coaching,” Ben added, glancing at Isabel. “Very admirable. You made the right call there. I think everyone can see that now.”
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