by Nan Rossiter
In the months that followed I repeatedly repented, went to confession, declared abstinence, and resolved to do better, but I knew it was hopeless—I was a woeful sinner. It was just a matter of time before I gave in and then prayed God would forgive me.
In late April, I bought Mrs. Cohen’s house, and when she inquired—through Simon—if I wanted any of her furnishings, I graciously declined. I added that I’d love to have some of her books, though, and her Crock-Pot. Simon assured me that I was welcome to as many books as I wanted, and she would be happy to give me her Crock-Pot. He also said he was glad I didn’t want any of her furniture because he and Lizzy were buying a house, too, and they desperately needed furniture. We arranged for a mover to collect Mrs. Cohen’s furnishings and valuables and to deliver them to Simon and Lizzy’s new house in Somerville; then the movers drove to Medford, emptied my storage unit, which Lizzy unlocked for them, and brought my stuff to Nantucket. It was a seamless transition, and in the three days the house was empty, Coop and I painted, cleaned, ate pizza, drank beer, and made love on the bare wooden floor.
On the night before my furniture was set to arrive, Coop came up my porch steps with a box in his arms. I raised my eyebrows, but he just smiled, and when I pulled open the top, a tiny gray head popped out, blinking beautiful slate-blue eyes at me. “Oh, my goodness!” I exclaimed, scooping out the little tiger kitten. “I always wanted a kitten or a puppy, but my dad would never let me get one.” I brushed the kitten’s soft head against my cheek. “Where’d you get her?” I asked.
“Him,” Coop corrected. “My neighbor had a sign in her yard, and when I stopped by, he was the only one left.”
“You were the only one left?” I cooed, holding the kitten’s nose to mine. “How can that be?” I gave Coop a hug. “Thank you so much. He’s perfect.”
“You’re welcome. I have some other stuff in the truck—cat food, cat litter, a cat carrier to take him to the vet in—which my neighbor said you’d need to do soon.”
I nodded and sat on the floor with the kitten while Coop went back out to his truck. When he came in with his arms full, I looked up. “I think we should call him Henry.”
He smiled. “After my uncle?”
I nodded.
He laughed. “He’d like that.”
* * *
It was the first Sunday in May, and the rest of the day, when we weren’t getting the house ready, we were playing with Henry. He had a sweet personality and a motorboat purr, and when he grew tired, he curled up on my lap and promptly fell asleep.
That night, because my furniture hadn’t arrived, Henry and I spent the night at Coop’s, and as I lay in bed—unable to fall asleep—I thought about everything that had happened in my life—from graduating, working at Stop & Shop, and living under my dad’s roof in Medford to losing my dad, becoming a home—and pet—owner, and working at a bakery on Nantucket. I never would’ve predicted the twists and turns my life would take in the span of a year. Nor had I imagined I’d lose my dad or fall deeply in love with a man I’d want to be with for the rest of my life. I was so richly—and undeservedly—blessed, and as I was drifting off, I thanked God for loving me so unconditionally.
Moments later, I was startled awake by shouting. “Mikey, where are you? Oh, God, Mikey!”
“Wake up, Coop,” I said, shaking him. He swung his arm around in defense, almost hitting me. I ducked and shook him again. “Coop, it’s okay. Wake up.”
He sat up suddenly, shaking and sobbing, and I waited for him to calm down.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry you’re so tormented by these nightmares.” I bit my lip. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”
Coop ran his fingers through his hair, and when he spoke, his voice was choked with emotion. “Mikey was my best friend—we went through everything together—and one night, we were coming into a village when, out of nowhere, we were ambushed. It was pitch-black—no moon or stars—just darkness, and all we could see were flashes of light—gunfire and exploding grenades. Mikey was in front of me, and this V.C. stood up and tossed a grenade right in front of us. Mikey pushed me back and threw himself on top of it—he didn’t even think—he just did it.
“Afterward, it was total chaos. I crawled around, trying to find him—I wanted to help him—get him to a medic, but he wasn’t anywhere.” Coop stopped and ran his hands through his hair again. “I felt all over the ground . . . my hands were wet and sticky . . . and then, I found his dog tags, which made me even more frantic because, if he wasn’t wearing them, no one would know who he was. I kept shouting his name, but then my commander came up behind me and clamped his hand over my mouth, hissing that I had to shut up. When it finally grew light out, I looked down and realized my hands and clothes were covered in blood . . . but I didn’t have a scratch on me.”
Tears filled my eyes. “Oh, Coop, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. Are his tags the ones you wear?”
He nodded. “I tried to give them to his mom, but she wanted me to have them.” He touched the silver tags hanging around his neck. “In my dreams, I see him throwing himself on that grenade, and when I try to find him . . . he isn’t there. He’s gone. Just gone. He was my best friend and he was blown to bits . . . saving me.”
My tears spilled down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say, so I just wrapped my arms around him as he sobbed.
August
Sally looked up when she heard the back door open, and wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh, Tracey, I was sorry to hear about your dad,” she said, wrapping her in a hug.
“Thanks, Sal,” Tracey said, her eyes filling with tears.
Sally held her at arm’s length. “Are you sure you’re ready to come back to work?”
Tracey smiled. “Yes, but I didn’t know you were going to be closed today.”
Sally nodded. “I have a lot I want to do to get ready for tomorrow, and it was the only way to get everything done and have the food be fresh.”
“Well, I’d like to help—it’s such a big day! And besides, if I don’t keep busy, I’m going to go crazy. I see my dad at every turn in that old house.”
“I know how you feel—there are so many memories in your childhood home.”
Tracey nodded. “I can almost hear him calling us.”
Sally squeezed her shoulder. “How’re the kids taking it?”
“They’re really sad.” She motioned toward the door. “They’re out back,” she added. “They’re waiting for Aidan because they all have a surprise for you. They can’t wait to help, too—it will keep their mind off things. T. J. is especially heartbroken—he keeps talking about the time he went fishing with his grandfather. . . and the time they saw the whales—it’s one of his favorite memories. He wishes they could’ve gone more often.”
Sally nodded. “It’s good he has that memory—it’s something he’ll never forget.”
“The one thing that gives me comfort—even more than knowing my dad is finally reunited with my mom—is knowing he’s reunited with Coop.”
Sally laughed. “I am sure those two are having a grand ole time painting heaven!”
“I’m sure they are,” Tracey said. “I don’t know how many times my mom had to call Liam and ask him to go round them up.” She paused. “I loved the book by the way.”
Sally looked up in surprise. “You read it?”
“I did. Liam lent it to me for my trip—it was a godsend. I truly loved it. Sometimes life just gets you down and you start to think you’re the only one who’s going through stuff, but a book like yours makes you feel less alone.”
“Thanks,” Sally said, smiling. “I really hoped—by writing it—that people would come away with that kind of a feeling.”
The bell on the door jingled and they both looked up. “Speak of the devil!” Sally said.
Liam half smiled as he held the door open for Tuck, who bounded across the room, almost knockin
g them over. “Hullo, love,” Sally said as he slobbered her with wet kisses.
Liam put his arm around Tracey and kissed the top of her head. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” she said, trying to sound more chipper than she felt. “Is Aidan with you? The kids are waiting for him.”
Liam nodded. “Yup, he’s out back.” Then he looked at Sally. “So, tomorrow’s the big day!”
“It is,” Sally said, smiling. “Mitchell’s Book Corner just delivered the books, but I think they brought over too many,” she said, pointing to several boxes piled in the corner. “They say they’ve been getting lots of calls and orders.” She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know what to expect.”
Just then the door banged open and Aidan, wearing an impish grin, peered around the doorway.
Sally raised her eyebrows. “Hmm, you look like the cat who ate the canary. What are you up to?”
Aidan stepped shyly into the kitchen. “We made something for your book party,” he said, starting to unroll a large roll of paper as he walked across the room. T. J. and Olivia stepped inside, too, holding the other end, and by the time Aidan reached the far wall, a fifteen-foot banner stretched across the room that said, “Congratulations, Sally!—SUMMER DANCE—Congratulations, Sally!” and on either end were drawings of two white wooden lanterns—just like the image on the cover.
“Oh, my goodness!” Sally said, covering her mouth. “You made this?!”
Beaming smiles spread across the kids’ faces as they nodded. “We’re going to hang it out front,” Aidan said, “so everyone can see it.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Sally said, smiling and giving them each a hug. “When did you find the time to make it?”
Aidan shrugged. “We’ve been working on it ever since T. J. and Olivia stayed at our house.”
“Where in the world did you find a wall—or a floor—big enough?”
“The boathouse,” T. J. answered. “I drew the covers.”
“Well, you did a great job,” Sally said, nodding approvingly.
T. J. beamed and Olivia chimed in, “It’s been hanging up for a month!”
“Yeah, we were praying you wouldn’t stop by,” Aidan added, laughing.
Everyone else laughed, too; then Liam suggested they go outside and figure out the best way to hang it.
“There’s a ladder in the shed if you need one,” Sally said. “But be careful.”
The three kids followed Liam outside and Tracey turned to Sally. “So, what’s on the menu?”
“Well,” Sally said with a sigh as she pushed back her hair. “I was going to keep it simple, but it’s gotten a little complicated. We’re having wine or sparkling water and cheese—Mitchell’s is taking care of that. And I’m planning to make some platters of finger food—cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches, and egg salad sandwiches, lemon squares, brownies, and mini cream puffs.” She paused, frowning. “I think there’s something else, too, but I can’t remember what it is. . . .”
Tracey laughed. “You couldn’t just stick with wine and cheese?” she teased.
Sally shook her head. “What fun would that be?”
“You’re going to be so busy signing books, you’re not even going to get to enjoy the refreshments.”
“Maybe,” Sally said skeptically. “And if that’s the case, it’s okay. We’ll see—it might be a total flop, but if, by some miracle, it’s not, do you think the kids would mind passing trays of food?”
“I’m sure they’d love to.”
The front door opened and Aidan came running in. “Come see!” he said excitedly, reaching for Sally’s hand. She and Tracey both followed him outside and stood in front of the long gray building Sally had bought years earlier from Abe and renamed Cuppa Jo to Go—Where the Dough Always Rises!
“It looks great!” Sally said, hugging them again. “I hope people come.”
“I hope so too,” Aidan said, grinning and hugging her back.
Liam and the boys stayed outside to sweep the walk and porch and weed the garden while Tracey and Olivia went inside to help Sally make the refreshments for the reception: enough egg salad to feed an army; chocolate frosting and a big pot of vanilla pudding—enough to frost and fill three hundred mini cream puffs—and lastly, three large trays of lemon squares.
“I wish I could remember the other thing I wanted to make,” Sally said.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Sal,” Tracey said, gesturing to all the food. “This doesn’t even include the cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches.”
“Sally, can I have a lemon square?” Olivia asked.
“Of course, Liv,” Sally said, gently brushing flour off Olivia’s cheek. “You’ve been such a big help. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” She kissed the top of her head. “Do you want to take some out for the boys too?” Olivia nodded and Sally expertly cut several lemon squares and put them on a plate. “Ask them if they’d like a drink.”
Olivia took a big bite out of one of the squares and, with a happy confectioners’ sugar grin, headed outside with the plate. Moments later, she reappeared with all three hot, tired, thirsty boys trailing her. “What have you got?” Liam asked. “Any beer?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Sally said, opening the fridge. “What about you two?” she asked, eyeing T. J. and Aidan.
“Do you have any soda?” T. J. asked hopefully.
“You can take whatever you’d like from the cooler out front.”
“All right!” they said, hurrying off with Olivia behind them to make their selection.
“Would you like a beer, too, Trace?” Sally asked.
“Sure,” Tracey said, smiling.
Sally pulled three bottles out of the fridge and opened them all. She looked up at the clock and realized it was five-thirty. “I didn’t realize it was so late! Would you guys like to order pizza? It’s the least I can do after all your help.”
“Pizza sounds good,” Liam said, wiping his brow and looking over at Tracey.
“Anytime I don’t have to figure out dinner is a good day,” she agreed, grinning.
“Pizza it is!” Sally said, picking up the phone. “What do the kids like?”
“Olivia likes plain, but T. J. will eat anything.”
“Same with Aidan,” Liam said.
“And you?”
“Anything,” they said in unison.
Sally dialed the phone and ordered three large pizzas—one cheese, one supreme, and one Hawaiian—and while Liam and Tracey went to pick them up—along with another six-pack of Whale’s Tale—she and the kids set up the tables for the big event the next day.
“Sal, do you think my mom and Cap will get married?” T. J. ventured.
Sally looked up in surprise. “Oh, I don’t know, hon,” she said. “I’ve known your mom and Liam since they were young—younger than you guys and I always thought they’d make a good couple, but they went their separate ways. Sometimes, it takes a while to put the past behind you.” As she said this, the truth of it wasn’t lost on her and she couldn’t help but smile—it had taken her forty-four years!
“I hope they do,” Olivia said wistfully. “I think they’d both be happier.”
“Me too,” Aidan said.
“Well, with you three working on it, I bet it’ll happen,” she said, laughing.
“Pizza’s here!” Tracey called, coming into the kitchen through the back door.
“All right!” T. J. cried. “I’m starving!”
“Me too!” Aidan said.
“Me three!” Olivia chimed in.
The kids pulled stools up around the counters while Sally pulled out the special sunflower paper plates and napkins she’d bought for the reception.
“Don’t you have some plain paper plates?” Tracey asked.
“I’ll just use a paper towel,” Liam said, frowning and reaching for a roll.
“Yeah, you should save these for tomorrow, Sally,” Tracey said. “You want to be sure
you have enough.”
Sally rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they’ll be more than enough.”
“You never know,” Aidan said with a grin.
“You’re right,” she said, laughing. “You never do!”
“That reminds me,” Tracey said, looking at Liam. “I have Sally’s book in my car. You should try to finish it before tomorrow. Don’t let me forget to give it to you.”
Liam took a sip of his beer. “I might not be able to stay awake tonight.”
“Oh, you’ll be able to stay awake! It’s really good!”
Liam laughed and looked over at Sally. “You can’t get a better review than that.”
“No, you can’t,” Sally agreed, smiling as she took a bite of her pizza.
PART IV
For by grace you have been saved . . .
—Ephesians 2:8
Chapter 27
“My mother isn’t coming,” Lizzy said matter-of-factly.
“Are you serious?” I asked in disbelief as I zipped up the back of her wedding gown.
She nodded. “She said she’s going to be in St. Clement Chapel, praying for my soul.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I’m so sorry,” I consoled. “She’s going to miss out on a truly special occasion.” I felt bad for Mrs. McAllister—why was she being so stubbornly resistant to her daughter marrying someone who is Jewish? It was worse than my own stubborn resistance to publically acknowledge my relationship with Coop.
Lizzy shook her head. “It’s fine. At least I won’t have to worry about her getting drunk and making a scene. It’ll make my whole day less stressful.”
I nodded, but I knew she was disappointed. “Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
“I hope not! She probably won’t even go to St. Clement. She’ll just sit in the living room, drinking, and I don’t need her to change her mind and show up drunk.”
“She’s just worried about you. She’s never been truly happy and she doesn’t want that to happen to you.”
