A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  “You’re doing the right thing, Tucker. That isn’t always easy. It seldom is, actually,” Reverend Ben pointed out.

  “Thanks, but the truth is, I’m not helping Carl because I really care for him. I don’t even know the man anymore. I’m not even sure I like him,” Tucker confessed. “I feel sorry for him, but it’s not that either. Last night Carl said he knew I was only helping him because I felt guilty.”

  “Of course you do. He’s family,” Reverend Ben said quietly.

  “But that’s the real reason. The only reason. I know it looks like I’m a good Christian and all that, but I’m really just going through the motions. It’s not in the right spirit . . . not like that parable you read on Sunday about the Samaritan.” Tucker stared down at the puddles near his heavy black shoes. “I’m on shaky ground, if you know what I mean. So when Fran starts complaining or Charlie in there gets under my skin, I get confused. Why should I put up with all this aggravation? For what? What am I getting out of this?”

  Reverend Ben reached out and touched Tucker’s arm. “Frankly, hearing that you don’t like Carl makes me think your actions are even more admirable, not less. It’s easy to help people we like, Tucker. But to extend compassion, real charity, for someone we don’t know or don’t like, that’s in a different league in my book.”

  “I’m not trying to show charity, Reverend. I just feel guilty, like I said. I know my conscience will get to me if I don’t do something for Carl.”

  “I understand. But maybe pure motives are unrealistic. Like the idea of courage without fear. Think about it, Tucker,” the reverend urged him. “If the world relied on pure motives for right action, I don’t know where we’d be. Your intentions are good, and you’re doing something to help. The results are the same and that’s what really counts. Keep going. You might find the feelings you think you lack. I’m sure that sooner or later—maybe even a long time from now—you’ll feel truly glad you helped Carl. No matter what Fran or Charlie or even Carl himself has to say.”

  “Thanks, Reverend.” Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m going to think about what you’ve said.”

  “Good. I’m glad I ran into you. But not surprised, actually. Sometimes my Boss schedules appointments for me without marking them in my book.” The comment made Tucker finally smile. “If you ever need to talk more, Tucker, call me, okay?”

  “Yes, I will,” Tucker promised. “I’d better get to work. You have a good day.”

  “It’s starting off pretty well.” Reverend Ben patted Tucker’s arm again and headed into the diner.

  Tucker stood on the sidewalk and watched the reverend go inside. As Tucker had predicted, the large yellow sun had sailed up over Main Street and the morning sky had turned bright blue, and he suddenly noticed the sound of snow melting all around him, running down the drain spouts and dripping from rooftops.

  Talking to Reverend Ben had not made him totally settled and resigned about Carl. But it had helped, Tucker realized. It had helped a lot.

  MOLLY WOKE UP SLOWLY, A TANGLED DREAM CLINGING TO THE EDGES of her mind like a cobweb in a corner. She turned in bed and checked the clock. Five after seven. Why hadn’t the alarm gone off? The girls would be late for school.

  Then she remembered it was Saturday. She rolled on her back again, feeling an ache in her shoulders and back. Her legs felt leaden and sore. She had been cooking and baking all week—pushing herself to fill the new orders—and still had more to do over the weekend. She couldn’t drop all her housecleaning clients with so little warning, either. She didn’t think it was responsible of her. Besides, the same people who hired her to clean might call her for a catering job someday. So on top of all the new work, she’d somehow managed to fit in a few cleaning appointments as well.

  She’d been so busy all week, she had hardly had a minute to spend with the girls, clean her own apartment, or even to eat. Which may have been a hidden bonus, Molly thought, since she felt as if she’d lost a few pounds without even thinking about it.

  She glanced over at the closet door where a new dress, covered in a plastic bag, hung from the door. It was the one Betty had spotted. She had a good eye for clothes, no denying it. Just as she’d promised, the simple, tailored style did wonders for Molly’s figure, and the deep blue color brought out the best in her eyes and fair complexion. The price was right, too, and Molly knew she would have treated herself anyway, even if Betty had not threatened to keep her trapped in the dressing room until she agreed to buy it.

  Molly tried to think of the dress as a necessary purchase for all her new business appointments. She didn’t want to admit she had bought it specifically to go to the school concert with Matthew tonight. She was trying to be low-key about this, but it wasn’t easy. Luckily she’d been so busy all week, she didn’t really have the time or energy to work herself up into a full blown, first-date frenzy.

  “Relax, just be yourself. And try to forget all the reasons you think he wouldn’t want to date you,” Betty urged her.

  Still, Molly found herself thinking about Matt a lot. Too much really. She finally had to give up telling herself she didn’t really like him. She did like him. More than any man she had met in a long time. Which made her even more wary of getting her hopes up.

  Molly sighed and forced herself to stumble out of bed and start her day. If nothing comes of it, I’ll be all right, she told herself. I just have to be.

  The doorbell rang at precisely five-thirty, just as Matthew had promised. Molly had already spotted his car pulling up on the street and had raced to the bathroom to check again on her lipstick, a bright new color she’d bought to go with the dress.

  “Could you get that, Lauren? It’s Dr. Harding and Amanda.”

  She heard the door open and the girls greeting each other with squealed compliments. “Okay, pal. It’s show time,” she whispered to her mirrored image. She shut the light and took a deep breath, then walked to the kitchen to see her guests.

  “Hi, guys,” she greeted Matthew and Amanda brightly. “Ready to go?”

  “You look great.” Matthew seemed unable to take his eyes off her and hurried over to help her with her coat.

  “That dress totally goes with your eyes,” Amanda agreed.

  “Thanks.” Molly’s heart skipped with secret glee as she smiled up at Matthew. Dressed in a tweed sports jacket and coffee-brown sweater, he looked great, too. But she didn’t have the courage to return the compliment. Not in front of the girls.

  She glanced over at Amanda. “You look very pretty tonight. I like the way you did your hair.”

  Amanda had gathered her long brown hair into a single braid down her back. “Dad helped.” She suddenly grinned. “It took a while, though.”

  “Hey, I did my best. I had trouble getting this thing to stay on.” He pulled a small clasp with a velvet flower from his pocket. “Amanda wanted to wear it, but it keeps falling off.”

  “Here, let me.” Molly took the clasp, quickly fit it to the end of the braid, and secured it in a neat, tight bow. “That should do it.”

  Amanda peeked at the braid. “Thanks, Molly.”

  Molly patted her shoulder. “No problem. Are you nervous?”

  Amanda shrugged. “A little.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. Lauren says you sound just like Julie Andrews. A real showstopper,” Molly teased.

  “Thanks,” Amanda said shyly. When Molly looked up Matthew gave her a beaming smile. A silent thank you for her attention to Amanda?

  “I guess we’d better go. These performers need to warm up their voices, and we want to get good seats.” He held up a camera. “I want to take some pictures.”

  “These school shows are always so crowded. We’d better go,” Molly agreed. The group paraded out of the apartment and headed downstairs to the car.

  Once at school, Lauren and Amanda ran off to join the chorus backstage. Matthew led the way into the auditorium, and they found seats down in front in the center section. Matthew sat next t
o Molly, and she was suddenly very conscious of his nearness, his broad shoulder brushing against her own smaller one and the spicy scent of his aftershave.

  The house lights went down, the chorus filed onto the stage, and the music began. Although Molly loved watching Lauren and Amanda perform, she was finding it hard to concentrate on the show. Each time Matthew wanted to tell her something, he leaned close, his shoulder rubbing hers and his hushed words tickling her ear. Her senses befuddled, she somehow managed to say the right things in response.

  Finally the show was drawing to a close. The chorus director, the infamous Mrs. Pickering, thanked the audience for coming. “. . . and for all your kind applause. Now, for our closing piece, a medley from The Sound of Music.”

  Matthew straightened up in his seat, an anxious, excited expression on his face as he stared up at the stage. He didn’t have to say a word. They both knew it was time for Amanda’s solo.

  The band swung into the bright notes of “My Favorite Things.” Amanda stepped front and center, her strong soprano carrying the lilting verses, while the rest of the group sang a medley of other songs from the show in a soft harmonic background.

  Amanda’s voice rose powerfully on the final notes as the rest of the chorus went silent. Molly felt goose bumps on her arms, and she turned to see tears glistening in Matthew’s eyes, his camera sitting untouched in his lap. He glanced at her a moment, then reached over and squeezed her hand, his gaze returning to Amanda.

  The last note sounded, and applause suddenly roared through the hall. Matthew, Molly, and Jill all came to their feet, clapping.

  “Wow!” Jill looked up at Molly. “I didn’t know she could sing like that.”

  “Neither did I, honey,” Molly admitted. Her eyes felt watery, and she quickly dabbed them with a handkerchief.

  The chorus and their teacher took a few bows. The curtains closed and the house lights came on. Matthew turned to her, looking awestruck and very proud. Molly could see he was at a loss for words.

  “She was wonderful. Really.”

  “I never heard her sing like that before,” he said, sounding stunned. “She’s really coming along. I wish her. . .” He stopped himself mid-sentence. Molly saw a faint flush cross his cheeks. “I wish I’d taken more pictures,” he finished quickly.

  Molly nodded, collecting her coat. She had a feeling that was not what he’d meant to say at all.

  The crowd surged up the aisles toward the exits. Molly held Jill’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated. The lobby in front of the auditorium was packed with kids and adults moving in all directions.

  “The girls said they would meet us here, near the water fountain,” Molly told Matthew.

  “There’s their chorus teacher,” Matthew remarked. “I’d like to have a word with her about Amanda. Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead. We’ll wait right here.”

  “Molly! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Molly felt her heart jump in her chest, and she looked up to find Phil standing right in front of her, as if he’d dropped down from the sky.

  Dressed in a dark blue suit and yellow patterned tie, he looked so smart and polished that she barely recognized him. She’d never seen him look this handsome—not even on their wedding day, for goodness’ sake. The flowers certainly added to the effect, she thought. Phil carried an armload of bouquets, enough to open a flower stand on the spot.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Lauren. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “No, she did not.” Molly guessed that the small detail had slipped Lauren’s adolescent brain. Or maybe Lauren didn’t think her father would really come. Molly was certainly having a hard enough time believing he was there.

  “Daddy!” Jill ran over to give him a big hug, then gazed longingly at the flowers. “Are those for Lauren?”

  “Hello, honey. Yes, there’s one for Lauren. And one for you,” he said, handing her a bouquet. “And one for Mommy.” He smiled at Molly and held out a bunch of pink roses.

  Molly didn’t know what to do. She took the flowers without even looking at them.

  “How thoughtful. Is this supposed to make up for all those times you forgot our anniversary?”

  “Molly . . .” He smiled and shook his head at her.

  Lauren suddenly appeared, her face glowing when she spotted her father. Molly stepped aside, feeling invisible.

  “Dad! Did you see me?”

  “Of course, I did, sweetie. I was sitting front and center. I even got a video.” He held up a tiny expensive-looking camera. “You were great. I was so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Lauren looked suddenly shy. “I didn’t see you in the audience. I wasn’t sure you would come.”

  “I promised you, didn’t I?”

  Lauren nodded but didn’t reply.

  “Here, I brought you some flowers.” Phil handed her the bouquet, and her eyes lit with pleasure.

  “They’re beautiful, Daddy. Thanks.” Finally, she glanced at Molly. “Look what Daddy got me. Aren’t they awesome?”

  “Absolutely,” Molly agreed with a tight smile. She wondered now why she didn’t think of flowers. Too distracted getting herself ready to see Matthew, she realized with a guilty twinge.

  “You were great, honey. I loved the show.” Molly reached out and stroked Lauren’s hair.

  But she wasn’t even sure Lauren heard her. She had turned back to Phil, her attention totally fixed on her father. As was Jill, who stood on his other side, holding his hand.

  Molly felt small and mean and overlooked. She sighed, thinking at least her daughters were happy. She had to give Phil a few points for tonight. He was clearly trying, and the girls appreciated his efforts.

  “So where should we go for dinner?” Phil asked. “I made reservations at this terrific steak house, but I wasn’t sure if that’s what you’d all like to do.” He looked hopefully at Molly. “I’d love it if you’d join us, Molly. I’m sure the girls would love it, too.”

  Molly felt thrown for a loop for the second time in fifteen minutes. This wasn’t really happening, was it?

  “Thanks, Phil. That’s a nice invitation. But we have plans,” she said quickly.

  Phil’s cheerful expression sagged like a sail that had suddenly lost the wind. She could see he had not anticipated this reply. Lauren and Jill clung to him, staring at her with downcast expressions. Molly just glared at them.

  “But I want to have dinner with Daddy,” Lauren complained. “Why can’t we go?”

  “You know why, Lauren. We’ve promised the Hardings. You don’t want to disappoint Amanda, do you?”

  Molly noticed Phil’s gaze shift, and she looked up to see Matthew and Amanda standing beside her. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Matt said. “Mrs. Pickering had quite a lot to say.”

  Matthew looked at Molly and then around the group, his gaze finally coming to rest on Phil. The two men stared at each other for a minute, as if to say, “Who’s that guy?”

  Molly should have been horrified at the scene, but it suddenly seemed amusing. She hadn’t been on a date with a man she truly liked in ages. Here she was, finally . . . and Phil shows up. If she didn’t laugh at this, she would break down crying.

  She quickly made introductions, summoning her best garden-party voice. The men briefly shook hands, and Phil shook hands with Amanda, as well, remembering to compliment her solo.

  “That was lovely, Amanda,” Molly agreed, catching the girl’s eye. “I actually started crying,” she admitted.

  “Oh, Mom, you’re such a waterworks sometimes,” Lauren teased.

  “She always gets like that.” Phil laughed knowingly. “Cries at the drop of a hat. Even at TV commercials.”

  Molly glared at him. Matthew smiled in a tight, polite way.

  Will this ever end? Molly thought desperately. She was not the praying kind, but she suddenly heard herself sending up a silent plea. Would somebody up there have pity on her and please get rid of
Phil?

  “We were just discussing dinner.” Phil looked straight at Matthew. “I thought I’d surprise Molly and the girls. . . . But I guess they have plans with you.”

  Oh, Phil! How could you put Matthew on the spot like that! Molly wanted to shriek at him. He was as slippery as a bar of soap.

  “Phil invited us out, but I told him we already had plans with you and Amanda,” Molly quickly explained to Matt.

  Matthew looked confused, then glanced at Lauren, still standing beside her father, her arm hooked around Phil’s waist. “That’s all right,” he said graciously. “Amanda and I understand if Lauren would like to see her father tonight.”

  Molly felt a little jolt. Did it really mean so little to him if she went off with Phil, or was he just trying to be nice?

  “Don’t be silly, Matt. We don’t want to change our plans and leave you flat. That wouldn’t be polite.”

  There was a moment of tense silence. Lauren looked disappointed but resigned, and Molly felt sorry for her. Still, this was Phil’s fault. He should have checked beforehand and not assumed that they’d be at his beck and call.

  Of course she looked like the bad guy again. Not him.

  “Maybe we should all go out together?” Matthew suggested.

  Molly stared at him. She knew he was just trying to be polite, but did he have to invite her ex-husband out on their first almost date? That wasn’t a good sign at all, she thought dejectedly.

  She looked over at Phil, sure he was going to say yes. He met her gaze and must have seen the silent scream of horror in her eyes.

  “Thank you, Matt. That’s nice of you to offer. But I don’t think I’ll crash the party.” He hugged Lauren and Jill, one in each arm. “I’ll see you two tomorrow. We’ll have all day together,” he reminded them. “You have a good time tonight and don’t get to bed too late. I have a lot of plans.”

  The girls both nodded and kissed him good night. “Nice to meet you.” Phil extended his hand and shook Matt’s again. “I’ll see you around,” he added.

  He cast Molly a knowing look, which she pretended not to notice. Phil knew she was interested in Matt. It was embarrassing being so transparent to him. Then again, he did know her well.