“He must feel better. He’s getting rambunctious,” Sophie said with false cheer.
“Yes, very,” Ben agreed wistfully.
They all knew the truth. The prognosis was grim. Gus’s great and generous heart was finally giving out, his other vital organs rapidly failing. All the doctors in the world couldn’t do much more for him. Sophie and Gus had decided that he would spend his last days at home on the orchard, in his own bed, rather than in a sterile hospital room.
Ben gave Gus’s hand a final pat. “Bless you, Gus. I’ll keep you in my prayers.”
“Thanks, Reverend,” Gus said. Sophie’s eyes misted over. She nodded and blew her nose on a tissue.
A nurse briskly entered the room and picked up Gus’s chart from the end of the bed. “How are you doing tonight, Mr. Potter?”
“Just fine. And yourself?” Gus sounded genuinely interested in her reply, Ben noticed. As if he was in the middle of a church picnic instead of a critical-care unit. Some people were just born with a certain buoyant spirit that didn’t desert them, no matter what. Sophie was the same. They were made for each other and had lived together happily for nearly fifty years. They had that to look back upon at the very least.
“I’m just going to walk the reverend to the elevator, dear,” Sophie told her husband. Gus, who had a thermometer in his ear, nodded and waved good-bye.
Sophie walked beside Ben, lost in thought. Ben waited for her to speak first. At times like this it was imperative for him to hold his peace and listen. Offering comforting words was important, of course. But listening, that was paramount.
“He’s had a good day,” she said finally. “His spirits are up. Did you hear the way he was talking?” she asked, shaking her head. “But he knows. He just acts as if it’s all going to be okay. Like he can lick this somehow. Of course, he won’t this time.”
She pressed a tissue to her eyes. “Once I get him home, well, it will be easier for everyone. He’ll have his family around him, and he’ll have the orchard.”
“That will be a great comfort to him,” Ben agreed.
“I’m going to spend every minute with him from here on in. Luckily the TV show people have given me a break until the spring. We taped a bunch of shows right after Christmas, and they told me they’re set for awhile.” Sophie released a long breath and shook her head. “Lucky for me. I wouldn’t have the heart right now to get up in front of a camera. I might not go back after Gus goes,” she concluded.
Ben swallowed hard. Sophie was talking about the cooking show she did for a local cable station, A Yankee in the Kitchen: New England Cooking and Crafts with Sophie Potter. The producer had spotted her at a fair on the village green last fall and the show had been a great success so far. Ben was sorry to hear she might abandon it. It would be a distraction for her after Gus passed on, he thought.
“It’s probably best not to make any decisions about that now,” Ben said gently. “What about the coming days, when Gus gets home. Do you have enough help?”
“My daughter Evelyn’s made all the arrangements for the visiting nurse and home-health aid,” Sophie said, mentioning her oldest child who lived in the area. “She and Una are taking turns helping with the housework. My son, Bart, should be in from Boston for a quick visit this weekend, and his daughter, Miranda, is coming in from New York. It should be a full house on the weekends. I hardly know where everyone’s going to sleep.”
It sounded like the typical Potter family reunion. But this time the gathering was for the most serious reason of all. If Sophie’s entire family was coming together to spend time with Gus, she clearly didn’t expect him to last long. Ben felt a sharp pang in his heart, and he reached out to take Sophie’s hand in both of his own.
His gaze met hers, and her eyes filled with tears. “You’ll get through this, Sophie. One step at a time. You have your family and all your friends. You have me,” he reminded her. “Most important, you have the Lord.”
She nodded. “Yes, I know. I’m grateful for our time together. Our blessings. I just wish sometimes . . .” Her voice caught and she couldn’t go on. “It might be wrong to say it, Reverend, but I’m older than Gus. I always thought I’d go ahead. I didn’t imagine living on without him. I know it’s wrong to second guess, but I wish the good Lord had taken me first.”
Ben didn’t answer immediately. “I felt the very same way when Carolyn was sick,” he said finally.
When Carolyn had been in her coma, there were a few days when it seemed unlikely she would survive, and Ben had entered the chilling dark places where Sophie now wandered. But of course, not fully, since the Lord in his mercy had spared him that irrevocable blow, the loss of his life partner. Barring a miracle, Sophie would not be spared.
“I felt . . . afraid. The greatest fear I’d ever known,” he admitted. She glanced at him, then looked down at her hands. He knew he had voiced her deepest feelings.
“Yes. I am afraid. Terrified.” She nodded her head. “I haven’t said that many times in my life. But this . . . this is different.”
“Very different,” Ben agreed.
“It’s as if my whole world is being pulled out from under me like a rug.” Her voice held a note of amazement mingled with sadness and fear.
Ben didn’t know what to say. Her whole world would be torn away once Gus was gone. Once a widow, she’d probably be forced to give up the orchard.
But first things first. She would face that road when she came to it.
“When Carolyn was sick and I felt the most afraid, there was a certain Scripture that came to mind and helped me through it. ‘Be strong and of a good courage, fear not . . . for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.’ ”
“Yes, I remember.” Sophie nodded thoughtfully. “Deuteronomy. That’s what Moses said to the Israelites when he knew he was going to die soon, and they’d go on without him.”
Ben nodded and squeezed her hand.
“He will not fail me,” she quietly echoed. “I know that’s so. Thank you, Reverend. And thanks again for coming by tonight.”
“No thanks necessary, Sophie. You know that.” Ben hugged her briefly, then stepped back. “Don’t hesitate to call me at any hour, night or day. Even if you just want someone to talk to.”
Sophie nodded. A small smile appeared on her lovely moon-shaped face. “I’ll be all right.”
He prayed that she would be. The elevator bell sounded. He stepped inside and hit L for lobby. Sophie stood watching him, framed like an image in a photograph. Then the elevator doors closed, blocking her from view.
Ben felt a heavy sadness nearly overwhelm him. He wished there was more he could do, more he could say to bring some comfort to Sophie and Gus at this dark hour. And there was so little. He’d counseled many families losing a loved one and knew that only too well by now. But he always wished there were more.
He pushed open the heavy glass doors of the hospital entrance and hurried to his car, feeling the stinging of cold air on his skin and in his lungs. The temperature hovered somewhere around twenty, he guessed. This was the toughest stretch of the winter, especially in New England. The holiday cheer long gone and so much cold and darkness to get through before spring.
But spring would arrive, Ben thought as he began the long drive home. Gus Potter wouldn’t see it, though, his body returned to the earth, his soul hopefully home in heaven, well before the world grew warm and green again.
“DO WE HAVE TO GO WITH YOU?” LAUREN WHINED.
“Yes, you do,” Molly said curtly. Molly somehow managed to get the girls home by nine-thirty after their pizza and movie at the mall. Getting them in bed with the light shut off was another matter entirely.
“We won’t be there long. I just need to finish the second floor. And you’ll get to be the first one to meet Amanda. She’ll be new at school on Monday, but you can tell everyone you’ve already met her.”
Lauren sat back against her pillows, her arms crossed over
her chest. The cat, Jasper, jumped on the bed and climbed into Lauren’s lap, but Lauren barely looked at her. “I really need to go to the library and start my science project.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll start the science project. Did you pick a topic yet?”
Nothing too ambitious please, Molly silently wished.
“The effect of electromagnetic fields on mealworms. This kid did it last year. It’s really cool.”
“Yuck! That’s gross.” Jill made a gagging noise.
“Come on, cut that out. It’s science, for goodness’ sake. Now get in bed,” Molly coaxed her.
Worms? She secretly agreed with Jill and hoped she didn’t have to handle any of the subjects.
“We’ll go straight to the library right after Dr. Harding’s house. I promise.” Molly picked up a stray sneaker and set it next to its partner, then bent over to kiss Lauren good night.
Lauren didn’t seem persuaded, Molly thought, but she had given up arguing at least.
Once the light was out in the girls’ room, Molly went into the living room to fold a basket of laundry. When she was done, she peeked in again. They had both fallen asleep, and the cat was curled up in a snuggly ball at the foot of Lauren’s bed.
Molly pulled up Jill’s covers, gave her another kiss as she slept, then did the same to Lauren. They did her heart good, these girls. She loved them so much, sometimes it actually hurt. When she watched them sleeping like this, she didn’t question working so hard and going to the limit to give them a good upbringing. Her daughters were everything to her. Maybe making up for a lot that was missing right now, Molly reflected as she left the room. But what could she do? This was her life. She had to make the best of it.
In the kitchen, she filled a bowl with her favorite ice cream, chocolate chocolate chip, then carried her treat into her bedroom. She picked up a thick paperback and stretched out on the bed. The book was a predictable but satisfying mix of romance and suspense and the ice cream, a guilty pleasure. She knew she shouldn’t have it after promising herself just this afternoon to start dieting. Especially right after eating pizza.
But she was so tired and felt she deserved some reward after such a long day. Besides, she didn’t need to squeeze herself into any Saturday night date clothes this weekend, she reminded herself, thinking of boring Micky and of Betty’s pep talk.
When you got right down to it, Molly decided, men may come and go, but a good romance novel and some premium ice cream never disappoint. With a smile and a satisfied nod, she turned the page and savored another cold, sweet spoonful.
THE DRIVE FROM SOUTHPORT HOSPITAL TO CAPE LIGHT TOOK MORE OR less an hour. Ben found little traffic on the highway and knew the ride would be faster than usual.
In the dark, humming silence he mentally worked on his sermon for Sunday’s service. He often found he got some of his best inspirations driving late at night on empty roads. The trouble was remembering them. His theme for this Sunday was connection, the web of friendships and family ties that supports us throughout our lifetime. He considered using the parable of the Good Samaritan, then remembered he would have that Scripture reading the following Sunday when he was going to talk about compassion. He would find some other Scripture to illustrate this Sunday’s theme. He had noted a few already on a pad in his office. He’d stop off at the church tonight and pick it up so he could finish the sermon at home tomorrow.
Once off the highway, he drove down the Beach Road and into the village. Main Street was deserted, the old-fashioned gaslights casting a glow in the frosty night air. He’d lived here over thirty years but still found his attention captured by the charm of the Victorian homes, vintage storefronts, and the harbor view ahead. It was a timeless place, yet somehow ever changing, reflecting the mood of each season or hour of day. You’d have a hard time finding a prettier place to live—although the picture-book setting gave no one here immunity to life’s challenges and sorrows. That was for sure.
At the end of Main Street, the blue-black water of the harbor stretched to the opposite shoreline. By Memorial Day, the inlet would be so full of boats, one would barely be able to see the waves in between. But the harbor was nearly empty right now, except for a few hardy, unadorned vessels belonging to the fishermen who worked year round. Still in a partially frozen state, the occasional boat stranded out in the ice looked like an odd decoration on the top of a frosted cake.
Ben turned on Bayview Road, which ran along the village green. At the far side of the green Bible Community Church stood, silent and dark, the steeple cutting a sharp silhouette against the clear, starry sky. Ben pulled into the lot behind the church and parked at one of the rear doors.
He unlocked the door and headed down the long dark hallway, past Sunday school classrooms. There was no need to turn on lights; he could find his way blindfolded. But just as he reached his office, he heard a strange sound. A muffled moan, distinctly human. Ben stood stone-still, his body tense and alert. There it was again, coming from the all-purpose room.
He approached cautiously, stopping in the doorway to turn on a light. “Is anybody in here?” he called out.
No one answered, and he glanced around. Then he heard movement coming from the kitchen area, a small room in the corner with a pass-through window. He wondered for a moment if he should call the police. But what if someone was hurt and needed help? Precious time might be wasted.
Ben walked slowly toward the kitchen, not knowing what he would do if the intruder was aggressive or carrying a weapon. He wasn’t scared, though, feeling sure that the Lord would protect him.
“Is there anyone here?” he asked again at the closed kitchen door. “I’m coming in now.”
He slowly pushed the door open and then felt it obstructed. Wedging his upper body through the opening, Ben saw a man’s body sprawled out on the floor. The man was curled on his side, his arms clutching his stomach, his body quaking with chills. A booted foot blocked the door, but Ben managed to squeeze inside.
The man was filthy, his pants torn and his dirty coat ragged. Ben couldn’t see his face, only a mass of long greasy hair and a full beard.
Ben knelt beside him, holding his breath against the stench, and touched the man’s shoulder. Whatever the stranger had found to eat in the kitchen cupboards hadn’t stayed in his stomach for long.
“Can you hear me?” Ben asked.
There was no movement at first, then the man slowly turned his head. His dark eyes met Ben’s. One shoulder lifted, as if the man were trying to get up, but he crumpled back to the floor at once.
“Steady, my friend. It’s okay.” Ben touched the man’s shoulder with his hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to get help.”
Ben rose and removed his overcoat, then placed it over the stranger. He gently rested his open hand on the man’s brow. “Don’t try to move. I’ll be right back.”
The intruder stared up at him a moment, then closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell in a labored effort to breathe.
Ben ran to the phone in the far corner of the all-purpose room, dialed 911, and asked for an ambulance. After checking on the stranger, Ben went outside to wait for the ambulance. Though he was wearing only a shirt and wool vest, he was unmindful of the cold. He stared up at the cross on top of the church steeple, starkly outlined against the blue-black sky, then bowed his head in prayer.
Dear Lord, please help this stranger. Please let him get medical treatment in time.
The ambulance arrived a few minutes later, and the EMS workers followed Ben inside.
“He’s back here. I’m not sure if he’s fully conscious. He’s having trouble breathing.” Ben led them to the little kitchen and then stood to one side while they examined the stranger.
A few moments later, one of the workers opened a portable stretcher while the other spoke to Ben. “Hard to say what’s going on. He definitely needs care. We’re going to take him to Southport. I can’t find any identification. When I asked him his name, I think he said, ‘Carl Jones.’ Ar
e you sure you don’t recognize him, Reverend?”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”
He leaned over and took another long look. The room was fully lit now, and the man lay flat on his back. Ben stared at the stranger’s face, just about to repeat that he’d never seen him. Then Carl Jones opened his eyes and looked up at Ben. His dark eyes were filled with anger and fear, like a wounded animal, angry at his captors and at himself for being too weak to get away and fearful of what would come.
Something clicked in Ben’s mind. He knew this man. Or did long ago. Just about everyone in town would remember him.
But no one would ever imagine he’d dare to return.
CHAPTER TWO
TUCKER TULLEY GAZED OUT THE KITCHEN WINDOW, HIS thoughts wandering as he waited for the coffee to brew. An icy glaze, glistening in the early light, coated the shed and bench near the birdbath. Just enough ice to be a nuisance on the road this morning, Tucker gauged. He’d be called out for some fender bender before that stuff melted down. As a senior police officer, he didn’t often pull Saturday duty. But ranks were thin because of a flu bug traveling around, and every officer left standing was pitching in.
He poured himself a mug of coffee and turned to the window again. A bank of blue-gray clouds fringed the eastern sky, a pale orange light barely visible where they parted. A few birds swooped down from the bare branches and flapped around the feeder. It was a dull winter morning, and he envied anyone still snug in his bed, like his wife and two children upstairs.
The phone’s shrill ring broke the stillness. Tucker turned quickly to pick it up before it woke anyone.
“I’m sorry to call so early, Tucker,” Reverend Ben said. “But something important came up. I thought you should know about it right away.”
“That’s all right, Reverend. What is it? Are you okay?”
“It’s not about me. I’m fine. Last night I found an intruder in the church. A vagrant, I guess you’d have to call him. He broke in and collapsed in the pantry. He was very sick. I called an ambulance, and it took him to the hospital in Southport.”
A New Leaf Page 3
