A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  Tucker wasn’t sure what to say. Carl didn’t seem to get his point. “The reverend is saving your job. You can come back. You can stay with us again until you find another place of your own.”

  Carl gave a short, bitter laugh. “Why would I ever go back there, Tucker? Use your head, for pity’s sakes. Those people will never accept me. They’ll always be whispering behind my back, suspecting me of everything. You’re dreaming, Tucker. I can’t go back there. I don’t know how I ever ended up in that town again in the first place.”

  Tucker took a breath. Carl’s expression looked determined, his mind made up. “You came back because Cape Light was your home and still is. You didn’t do anything wrong, Carl. There’s no reason to run away. You have a job there and a place in the world there. You have connections—a family.”

  Carl frowned at him, shaking his head, but Tucker sensed that he was making some headway.

  “I want you to come back, Carl. I don’t want you to live out the rest of your days alone, down in some cellar room. I’m your brother. I want to help you. I know I messed up, but I am trying my best. I really am.”

  Carl didn’t speak for a long time. He just got up and fiddled with the TV dials, finally turning the set off. When he faced Tucker again, Tucker thought he saw his brother’s chin tremble.

  “You did okay by me, Tucker. I know I never thanked you, either. You didn’t have to come up here and look for me and all that, just to tell me about those kids.”

  Carl nodded, looking almost as if he were talking to himself. “I can’t go back, though. But it’s good of you to ask me. Maybe this place doesn’t look like much, but I’m okay here. It’s all right for me. And say I get in a jam sometime down the road, I know I can call you. So that’s something, right?”

  Tucker looked up at him. The room was darker now, and he could barely see Carl’s face, only his dark eyes that looked like bright bits of glass.

  “Yes, that’s something. Don’t forget it, either.” Tucker stood up and coughed to clear his throat, which felt suddenly thick. “I’m going to try to stay in touch. I know you’re not much for that, but just a card or a call from time to time would be enough, Carl. If you move from here, you let me know.”

  “I will.” Carl nodded. He suddenly stuck out his hand, taking Tucker by surprise. Tucker stared at his brother’s hand a moment, then took it in his own and shook it hard.

  “So long, Tucker. We’ll hook up again someday, I guess.”

  “Sure. I’ll see you, Carl. You take care.”

  Tucker finally let go of Carl’s hand, wondering when and if he’d ever see him again. It seemed a sad irony that, after all these years, he finally felt reconciled with his brother, and they were parting with no real hope of ever seeing each other again.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  TUCKER PACKED UP AND DROVE BACK TO CAPE LIGHT THAT SAME night, stopping once on the road for fuel and a bite to eat. He had called Fran from the car as he left Portland, telling her he found Carl and was on his way home again. He also told her not to wait up for him, but when he drove up to the house, he saw that the lights were still on in the family room.

  Tucker entered the house quietly. Scout, who had been sleeping at the top of the stairs, ran down to greet him, wildly wagging his tail and jumping up to lick Tucker’s face. Tucker patted the dog, then went back to the family room. Fran sat in her bathrobe, watching TV. She looked half asleep and blinked when she saw him.

  “Tucker. I didn’t even hear you come in.” She got up and kissed him hello. “I thought you would be later.”

  “I made good time. Not much traffic at this hour.” Tucker nodded, forcing a small smile.

  “Do you want anything? A sandwich or something? There are some leftovers from dinner I can heat for you.”

  Tucker shook his head and sat down on the couch. “No, thanks. I’m fine.” Scout sat at Tucker’s side and leaned against his leg. Tucker patted his silky head. “Looks like Scout missed me.”

  “We all missed you, Tucker.” Fran gave him a small smile and sat down in the armchair. “So you found him. I’m surprised.”

  “It was a lucky break, I guess. Carl went back to some shelter he’d been in to see if he had any mail. He left a forwarding address and this guy who ran the place called me.”

  Fran didn’t say anything for a moment. She picked a thread off the edge of her robe. “Where is he living now? Is it . . . decent?”

  Tucker shrugged. “He got a job as a janitor at an apartment house. He gets a room in the basement for free. It isn’t much, but it’s better than a shelter by a long shot. And it’s good to see that he’s settled down and working.” Tucker paused and leaned back against the couch. “I asked him to come back here again. But he doesn’t want to.”

  “Oh.” Fran took a breath. “Why not? Did he say?”

  “He’s had enough of this place. He says no one here will ever accept him. I don’t know. Maybe he’s right. I just hated to leave him there, all alone like that. I’m afraid he might get sick again or get into trouble and not let us know.”

  Fran looked at him a long time. “Maybe if you keep in touch with him, in time, he might move down here again.”

  Tucker had secretly hoped for the same thing but was surprised to hear Fran say it. She sounded as if she wouldn’t mind.

  “I don’t know if he’ll stay in touch. But I’m going to try.”

  “Tucker, I did a lot of thinking while you were away. I need to apologize to you and not just about the stickpin. I was wrong to give you such a hard time about Carl, about letting him stay here. You were right to help him. I can see that now.”

  Tucker sighed. He felt so drained. Her words helped, but only a little.

  “Thanks, Fran. Thanks for saying that.”

  “No, I really mean it. I’m truly sorry for the way I acted. It wasn’t right. You’re a good man. You have a good heart. You’ve gone the limit for Carl—anyone can see that. It counts for something, even if he doesn’t come back. You’ve been a good brother to him and a wonderful example to our children.”

  Tucker felt his throat go tight, almost as if he might break down crying. “Thanks,” he managed. “It means a lot to me that you would say that.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m spent,” he said honestly. “And I’m disappointed in this town, Fran, in the way people acted. They were just too hard on him. That’s why Carl’s gone.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, ideas he’d been mulling over on the long drive home.

  “I don’t like the way they acted down at the station house. The way they treated Carl and treated me, too. Especially the chief. It wasn’t right.”

  “I know what you’re saying. I’m one of the guilty ones. I know I was too quick to judge him,” Fran said, an embarrassed expression on her face.

  Tucker reached over and patted her hand. “At least you figured it out, finally. I knew you would. I was thinking more about Charlie and some guys at the station. I’m not even sure I want to be a cop anymore. Isn’t that something? After all these years. It’s all I ever wanted to do with my life, since I was a little kid. But after that night with Carl, it just doesn’t seem the same to me. I’ve been thinking about an early retirement. I can do that, you know. I’m coming up to twenty years.”

  Fran got up from her chair, sat beside him, and put her arm around his shoulders. “You’re tired now, Tucker. And you feel badly about Carl. Give it some time, then if you still want to quit, fine. Whatever you decide is okay with me.”

  Tucker sighed and put his arms around his wife. They sat together without talking. Fran was right. He was tired. He wasn’t thinking straight. He would let all of this settle and see how it felt once he was back on the job. He would take it one step at a time. But it was good to know Fran was with him again, understanding his problems, trusting his judgment. That was one good thing to come of this, he thought.

  BETTY WAS TALKING SO QUICKLY, MOLLY COULD BARELY KEEP UP WITH her. She did ma
nage to scribble down the address, 53 Mariner’s Way, as Betty rattled on.

  “. . . and I got the key as a special favor from the landlord. You’ll be the first one to see it. We can put a binder on it tonight and sign a lease by the end of the week. Oh, I nearly forgot, there’s even a brick oven in the basement. Can you beat that? You’ll need to get permits and such. But I can work out good terms on a lease, and the zoning is right, too, if you want to put in some little tables eventually. But you really need to get over there right away, Molly. This one will go fast. It’s a prime location. The other brokers in town are already breathing down my neck.”

  “Okay, I’m going. I’m leaving right now. Right this minute.” Molly held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and raced around the apartment, grabbing things with both hands as she located her purse and car keys.

  She wondered if she looked all right. She didn’t want to run into the landlord and make a poor impression. The black capri pants seemed fine, and the sleeveless striped T-shirt was still clean. She switched her sneakers for black slides, swiped on some lip gloss, and yanked a brush through her hair with one hand.

  “Call me right away once you see it. I have this walk-through on another property I can’t postpone—the closing is tomorrow. It could take a while.”

  Molly could tell Betty really wanted to see the vacant shop with her rather than keep her appointment. Maybe it’s just as well, Molly thought. As much she valued Betty’s opinion, Molly wanted to see the place for the first time on her own.

  “That’s all right, Betty. I understand totally. I’ll call you first thing.”

  “Okay, dear. Good luck. Oh, rats, I’m breaking up. . . .”

  Betty’s voice dissolved into a blur of static, and Molly sighed with relief, finally able to hang up.

  Ten minutes later, after picking up the key from Betty’s office, Molly parked on Mariner’s Way. Although not a main street, there were quite a few stores here as well as the post office, so everyone passed this way sooner or later.

  Molly jumped out of her car and gazed at the storefront of the vacant shop. It was a medium-sized shop, not too narrow and not too wide. There were plate-glass windows in front with window boxes at the bottom that now stood empty. A sign above the door read Shoe Stop, and just below that a canvas awning, dark green with white stripes, stretched out, half open and sagging in the middle.

  Molly pictured the storefront painted a cream color with a new sign, a burgundy background with gold lettering: Willoughby’s Fine Foods & Catering. That was the name she finally decided on. It sounded solid to her, established, as if she’d been in business a long time and would continue even longer.

  Her fantasy renovations continued as she added a matching awning and some interesting swoops of fabric across the windows inside. The window boxes would be full of flowers—bright, eye-catching colors and long trailing vines.

  Though she hadn’t seen the inside yet, the place already felt good, as if it might work out just right.

  Her hand trembled with excitement as she opened the door with her key. The place smelled musty but was full of light. She walked around slowly, picturing where she would put a counter and glass display cabinets. She pulled up a corner of the worn blue carpeting and saw a beautiful wooden floor that only needed some light refinishing. She saw a door in back and entered what appeared to have been a stockroom.

  Betty said there was a sink and gas hookup for a stove back there someplace, Molly recalled, as she investigated further. According to Betty, the place had quite a history. It had once been a bakery and before that a tearoom back in the nineteenth century. Molly wondered if she could find some old photographs of how it looked back then and hang them on the walls.

  She saw another window and a door to the back of the store. She knew she could make a good working kitchen in this space.

  It was perfect, she thought, just as Betty had promised.

  Molly walked out of the dark back room into the front again, her eyes blinking against the sudden light. She could make out the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway, though she couldn’t see his face.

  “Molly?” She recognized Matt’s voice and stepped closer, shading her eyes with her hand. It was him, for sure. She could barely believe it.

  “I was down the street at the post office. I thought I saw you come in here.”

  “I’m just looking around. I might rent it for my shop, Willoughby’s Fine Foods and Catering. What do you think?”

  “I think that’s a classy name.” Matt took a few steps inside and glanced around. “It has a lot of light. I like the look of the place from the street, too. Old-fashioned and sort of classic. Or it could be.” He looked at her and smiled. “I think you could do a lot with it. I know you could.”

  “I have a few ideas.” Molly stepped closer.

  “You always do.”

  His encouraging words made her feel good, as usual. She liked the way she felt about herself around Matt. That was part of the attraction, she realized. When he looked at her that way, she felt as if he saw the best she could be and anything was possible.

  “It’s funny to run into you like this,” he said. “I was going to call you when I got back to the office.”

  “Oh?” Molly stopped short, not daring to add, “About what?” It had been three days since their picnic in her living room. She had been hoping to hear from him, all the while warning herself not to get her expectations too high again.

  “I wanted to ask you out to dinner actually.” He shook his head, smiling with a baffled expression. “But I was almost afraid to. Every time we make plans, some disaster strikes and it doesn’t work out.”

  “Tell me about it.” Molly felt a tight, forced smile stretch across her face. She braced herself for another one of those “I think you’re swell but looks like this just isn’t meant to work out” speeches.

  Could he possibly do that to her? She was sure her heart would break.

  Something in her expression must have given her away. Matt suddenly stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders. He stared down into her eyes.

  “I was just thinking about you this morning and realized that I’ve known you for, well, almost four months now, and we’ve never had a real date. Without any adolescent chaperones, sick children to care for, or Phil showing up, I mean.”

  Molly took in a shallow breath, unable to look away from his dark, tender gaze. “And?”

  She knew she sounded nervous, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She saw Matt swallow hard, looking unable to answer for a moment. “The thing is, I realized that I’m in love with you, Molly, and we’ve never even been on a real date.” He paused. “Don’t you think that’s funny somehow?”

  His voice trailed off to a near whisper. Molly couldn’t answer. She was sure she hadn’t heard him correctly, but the look on his face left no doubt. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was all she could do to nod her head.

  “Well, what do you think? Did I mess up totally by being such a jerk and not getting out of my own stupid way? Could you give me one more chance to show you how I really feel about you? How I’ve always felt . . . but just couldn’t figure out.”

  She paused and took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

  The look of relief on his face was astounding; Molly knew she would never forget it. He pulled her close for a long, deep kiss, and Molly melted in his strong embrace.

  When they finally broke apart, she stared up at him, unable to believe this was really happening. “Are you sure about this?” she asked quietly. “I mean, I’m just a cook and you’re a doctor and everything. We aren’t a very good match. . . .”

  Matt pulled back, his expression astounded. “Molly, please, don’t say another word. I never once thought of you as less than my equal in any way.” He grinned at her. “Actually, there are so many times when you’re clearly the superior one that I may have to make sure I don’t get an inferiority complex.”

  �
�But—”

  “You’re perfect for me.” He cut off her objections, laughing. “Perfect, period.” He pressed his cheek against her hair. “All this time, I’ve been worried that I wasn’t good enough for you. That I couldn’t give you enough, give you what you deserve in a relationship.”

  He leaned back again and looked down at her, a soft smile on his lips. “But I know it will be different with you. I love you so much. I know we’ll be happy together.”

  Molly felt every cell in her body trembling with joy—and shock. This was so much more than she had hoped for. She never in a million years imagined that Matt would have such feelings for her. But it seemed he really did.

  She sighed and dropped her head to his shoulder, clinging to him. “I think you’re pretty near perfect, too. . . . But I’ll let you know if I see any room for improvement.”

  Matt laughed and held her close, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. “That’s just what I expected you to say.”

  His mouth sought hers, and he kissed her again for a long time. When Molly finally opened her eyes and looked around, she blinked at the sunlight, feeling dazed, as if she were an entirely new person who had woken up in a whole new world.

  TUCKER WAS WALKING THE BEAT ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON. JUST AS HE passed the Clam Box, Charlie appeared in the doorway, carrying out a big white laundry bag. “Tucker, how are you doing?” he called out. “Want to come in for some coffee?”

  Charlie had never really apologized for the argument he’d started weeks ago. They had barely said hello to each other since.

  “No, thanks. I just took my break about an hour ago.”

  “Ah, come on. Just for a few minutes. What’s the matter, don’t you like my cooking anymore?”

  Tucker gave him a reluctant smile. “What do you mean, ‘anymore’? I’m not sure I ever did.”

  Charlie’s face fell, then he forced a smile. A nervous smile, Tucker noticed, as if eager to show he got the joke.

  “Okay, then. Suit yourself.” He hefted up the laundry bag and tossed it over his shoulder as he headed down the sidewalk to his car.