Where Grace Appears

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Where Grace Appears Page 15

by Heidi Chiavaroli


  I tried to pray alongside my brother on that one, to put aside my ill will toward Finn. Really I did.

  When Bronson finished and the chorus of “Amens” had died down, he bent over and kissed my cheek. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  Amie stood and gave me a hug. “If the girls at school ask, I can just tell them it’s none of their business.”

  I sighed. “You’re right, it’s not. But the truth will be apparent before long, so whatever, Amie. I’d rather Tripp be spared from the rumors, though.”

  She smiled. “I’m pretty certain Tripp can handle himself.”

  “You didn’t see him when he got the news.”

  Her face fell. “He was real upset, wasn’t he? Of course he was.”

  “He’s always loved you, Josie. Too bad…” Lizzie’s voice trailed off.

  “I know. Too bad I hadn’t made a slew of other possible choices this past year.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “That’s not what I was going to say.” She stood. “If you need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

  “Thanks, sweetie.”

  My two sisters left the patio, leaving me alone with Mom and the fresh scent of soil from Lizzie’s recent plantings. Mom patted the spot on the swing Amie had vacated. I sat, allowed her to put her arms around me even as they called forth tears.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I feel like a broken record, but I am. I let everyone down. You, Dad, myself, Tripp. I’m a mess.”

  “Oh, honey. Never be afraid to come to me. We all have a mess or two of our own, don’t we? You’ve always been super hard on yourself, so I think it makes it more difficult for you.” She squeezed my shoulder. “But don’t you dare think Dad’s up in heaven shaking his head over you, hear me? If he can see us at all, it’s with the clearest, most perfect vision. He’s seeing this as the turning point it is for you. He’s also seeing how God’s going to orchestrate it all out for good. I just know it.”

  “I wish I had your faith.”

  “It’s not my own, that’s for sure. I find it the more I fall into His arms and the less I depend on human power and wisdom. It’s about the falling…and trusting that He will do the catching. That He will be the very best of friends.”

  I sniffed.

  “Honey, you will never be fatherless.”

  I tried to sink into that fact, that assurance, but the old worries crowded in. “I have to tell Aunt Pris, don’t I?”

  She smiled, pulled her arm out from around me. “Afraid so.”

  “She’s the last one on my list, so maybe I’ll head on over there now and get this over with.”

  “You want me to come?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t need your help getting into this, so I best handle it on my own. I just…if I decide to keep the baby, Aunt Pris might not want me living in her home. I don’t know a lot about babies, but I know they’re messy and they cry a lot. I’m not sure if that would be a game-changer. If it is, I promise I will figure something out on my own. I will not let this dictate whether The Orchard House Bed and Breakfast will happen.”

  Mom took my hand in hers. “We’ll work something out. Who knows, maybe you’re not giving Aunt Pris enough credit. She’s certainly surprised us so far.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned back into the swing. “The funny thing is, I feel like I need this B&B as much as you do. How crazy is that?”

  “Even if you decide to keep the baby, it doesn’t mean you have to give up your dreams.”

  “Do you think dreams can change?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did yours?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I was never as headstrong and determined as you. Yes, I dreamed about a B&B, but most of all, I dreamed of having a family. And we did a great job on that one if I do say so myself.”

  Dreams of a family. All this time I’d been telling myself Mom had sacrificed her bed and breakfast dream for us. But no, her real dream had been us.

  Was that the sort of happiness I wanted too?

  She elbowed me. “Are you changing your mind about your major?”

  I shrugged. “It’s like my past experiences this year in New York and with…everything, soured me on the idea of becoming a psychologist. Like all I want now is home and you guys.”

  “Dreams can certainly change, and I think during big life decisions it’s natural to seek the place we feel most secure, but Josie, you were meant to fly, my girl. Whether that’s in the field of psychology or not, take some time to really think and pray about where your passion’s leading you. Your passion, honey. Not your father’s, or your baby’s father, or Tripp’s or any other man’s or mine…but yours. Let the Lord speak to your heart.”

  I relaxed into that thought for a moment, caught a brief glimpse of unfamiliar freedom in it before it floated away. Had I been chasing after everyone’s dreams but my own?

  She hugged me one more time. “Until then, I am very much looking forward to running a bed and breakfast with you.”

  “Me too, Mom. Sure hope Aunt Pris feels the same way.”

  Mom ran a hand over my hair, a gesture she hadn’t performed since my early teens. “You always were my brave girl.”

  Brave? If only I felt such a thing.

  17

  “Pardon me, young lady?” Aunt Pris bristled from where she held court on her Queen Anne sofa for tea time.

  Esther grabbed my aunt’s arm, and leaned closer. “She said she’s pregnant, Priscilla. A baby. Don’t you just love babies?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t,” Aunt Pris snapped.

  I looked at my aunt’s faithful friend, grateful for her presence.

  “The only reason you don’t like babies is because you don’t know what you’re missing!” Esther exclaimed.

  Maybe not the best approach. Had Aunt Pris ever wanted children? She hadn’t even taken in her own nephew when he’d found himself an orphan.

  Esther shimmied onto the edge of her chair. “Babies bring life to a house—almost how dogs do. Can you imagine this home without your Cragen?”

  I glanced at Cragen, ever faithful on my aunt’s lap but eyeing me with suspicion, a low growl in his throat. If babies were anything like Cragen, I may just have to throw in the towel now.

  “Aunt Pris, I don’t know that I’m keeping it, but I thought you should know about the possibility if we all end up living with you, that is.”

  She eyed me over the top of her glasses. “And you’re not getting married?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Her hand fluttered at her throat. I hoped she wouldn’t have a heart attack here and now.

  “You are determined to raise this child on your own, then?”

  “Or I will give it to a family who wants a baby.”

  She sat up straighter. “Well, I’ll cast my vote for that idea.”

  “Priscilla!” Esther’s dark brow wrinkled. “A baby!” As if those two words could make everything okay. “One of God’s greatest blessings.” She smiled at me. “Oh sure, the circumstances aren’t as He’d intend, but this innocent babe will be a blessing.”

  The surety of her words almost made me believe them. Maybe it was time I started thinking of this child as a blessing instead of a curse—instead of a symbol of how Finn had abandoned me in the end.

  “Aunt Pris, I don’t want this to affect our bed and breakfast endeavor. If you are not comfortable with the idea of a baby beneath your roof, and if I decide to keep him or her, then I will find a way to live on my own. There’s plenty of jobs I’m suited for, and I’m a hard worker.”

  “But who will run the bookshop, then?”

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Perhaps we don’t open the bookshop until later, when we can afford someone to run it, if that can’t be me.” My chest squeezed at the thought of giving up the bookshop. I’d been waking all hours of the night, planning. How the store would look, how I wanted plenty of space to face the books outward so shoppers could see the beautiful
covers. I’d include all things bookish as well. Journals and bookmarks, bookish jewelry and bookish clothes. Books on the history of Camden and New England, books on the Alcotts and their Orchard House. Maybe a small nook for coffee and tea, a few chairs and tables to add to the welcoming atmosphere.

  “Absolutely not,” Aunt Pris said. “I will not have a stranger handling part of the family business, handling our money.”

  “Okay. I want to run the bookshop, Aunt Pris. I’m very excited about it, so I understand.”

  “And what’s to become of this degree I’m paying a hefty penny for?”

  I blew out a slow breath. No turning back now. “I thought to transfer to online classes so I could be home. Less money as well, but same degree.”

  “And you’ll have time to run a bookshop, take care of a baby, and attend school?”

  “As I said, I’m not certain I’m keeping the baby. I need some time, Aunt Pris.”

  She didn’t seem to hear me. “Perhaps we take some of that money you all plan to use to tear apart my kitchen and build a small apartment above the bookshop. That way we can all have a bit of separation between us and that child.”

  Should I be flattered or offended? “That’s nice of you to offer—I think. But again, I don’t know if I’m even keeping the baby. And Mom needs the new kitchen…although Tripp’s estimate came back much lower than expected. Maybe we could do both if it came down to it and if you were open to more construction.”

  “What’s one more thing at this point?” She threw up her hands. “Now tell me about this estimate. Why haven’t I seen it?”

  “Mom and I planned to show you everything tomorrow. Is there a time that works for you?”

  “Eleven will be fine.”

  Esther beamed. “Yes, eleven is perfect.”

  Though I didn’t remember inviting her, I appreciated her presence. She tended to soften Aunt Pris’s hard edges.

  Aunt Pris stood, spilling Cragen off her lap. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need the restroom. I’ll see you tomorrow, girl.”

  I blew my bangs out of my face as my aunt left the room. “I think that actually went well.”

  “Of course it did!” Esther smiled in that innocent way of hers. “A baby!” She crooked a finger at me until I came closer and bent at the waist to hear her words. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s just as excited ‘bout the idea of this bed and breakfast as you are.”

  I straightened. “She is?”

  “Yessiree. She’s been lonely, poor dear. Why else do you think she lets me hang around? She couldn’t stop talking about it at our quilting club meeting this past Saturday. Going on and on about the grand plans. She likes to pretend she’s put out, but I can see it clear as day beneath all that fire and brimstone.”

  I cocked my head. “See what?”

  “She’s proud of you all. To have you, to have this home be filled again with purpose and laughter and family.”

  I kissed Esther’s cheek. “Thank you, Esther. I needed to hear it.”

  “And don’t forget what I said before, either. That baby is a blessing, child. You’ll see.”

  JOSIE: Hey, Captain. Not sure if you’re still talking to me, but if you are, we’re having a celebratory picnic tonight at Aunt Pris’s. She signed off on our plans! Hope you’ll come. Bring Grandpop and August too. 5:00

  TRIPP: Good news. We’ll try to make it.

  Tripp pulled up the drive of Orchard House, noting a large section of the blooming orchard trees closest to the house grew uninhibited by tall grass and weeds. It looked good, really classed up the place.

  He ignored the knot in his stomach as he shut the truck door and greeted Grandpop and August, who had pulled in behind him. Procrastinating at the office hadn’t helped his taunt nerves. He wondered if Josie set the truth straight with her family, or if some of them still believed the rumors flitting around town. Did any here wonder if he were the father of Josie’s child?

  Hannah waved and came over, her face glowing. She hugged Grandpop then Tripp. “I’m still not totally sure whether I should thank you both or scold you.”

  Grandpop kept a hand on Hannah’s elbow. “Gratitude hurts less, so I vote for that, dear.”

  Hannah planted an impromptu kiss on Grandpop’s cheek. “I want you all to come for a meal as often as you like, okay? You’re a part of this. You’re family.”

  Grandpop blinked fast. Was the old man growing emotions in his ninth decade?

  Tripp gestured to the Victorian. “We can’t wait to see your business alive and booming.”

  “Me neither.” Her smile lit the evening, making her prettier than he’d seen her since Amos died. She was happy. If only Josie could get her smile back, too.

  “We have shrimp cocktail and spinach-and-artichoke dip just out of the oven. We’re about to break open the champagne.”

  “Just a simple picnic, huh?”

  “Nothing’s ever simple when it comes to cooking with Mom.” Amie sidled up next to Hannah, her gaze settling on Tripp. “Glad you guys could come.”

  “Hey, Amie.” August gave one of his dashing, dimpled grins to the youngest Martin. Was his little brother putting on the charm for her? “You almost out of jail?”

  She rolled her eyes. “If you mean high school, yeah.” Her gaze fluttered to Tripp. “And boy, I can’t wait. The last couple of days have felt especially prisonish.”

  Tripp excused himself and walked toward Josh, who refereed a race between the twins. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Josie pouring champagne into dainty wine glasses at the picnic table. He hurried in Josh’s direction.

  Maggie’s husband straightened at Tripp’s arrival and held out a hand. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

  “Good to see you.” Tripp held up the three fingers of his right hand and shrugged. He’d broken his outermost knuckle during his tantrum the other day, which was stuck in a splint for the next four to six weeks.

  “Hurt on the job?”

  “Went a little too hard on the punching bag the other night.”

  Josh winced. “Ouch. Right-handed?”

  Tripp nodded. “Yup. I only have myself to blame, though.” He looked at the two boys barreling across the green grass toward them. “You recruiting them already?”

  Josh chuckled. “Can never start too young. They come to as many meets as Mags can get them to. You should see them yelling at the kids on the sidelines. They can be just as loud as me.”

  “How’s the old place? The high school, I mean. Amie just compared it with a jail, so maybe not much has changed.”

  Josh’s grin put Tripp further at ease. “I guess like anything else, it’s all in what you make it. Tough when your sister’s the topic of gossip, though, especially when you should be reveling in your last days of senior year.”

  “Amie’s sister?”

  Josh jerked his head toward the object of Tripp’s affection and pain. “Josie. It appears this town doesn’t have much else to do besides gossip about the Martin family.”

  His jaw tightened. “I heard firsthand myself. I don’t know what it is, but this family has always been a source of fascination for folks.”

  The twins raced in, barely catching their breaths before arguing about who won. “Davey won this time, boys, but it was close.” Josh pointed toward the rectangle table Hannah had adorned with a tablecloth. “Go see about getting a drink over there.”

  “Soda!” They raced off.

  “Water!” Josh yelled back. He laughed, turned to Tripp. “Business good?”

  “Great.” He nodded toward Aunt Pris’s home, standing grand and historic beside them, its many gables and turrets regal in the afternoon sunlight. “We’re excited about this project, thinking of hiring on a few more, actually. You know of any graduates who are handy with a hammer?”

  “I could check with the shop teacher for you. But you know, I’ve been looking for some summer work myself.”

  Tripp tilted his head to the side. “You?”

&nb
sp; “I’ve swung a hammer or two in my day. Helped my uncle after high school and through college. Demo, framing, roofing and shingling, some finish work. It’s been awhile, but I think I could hold my own.”

  “You guys okay…you know, financially?” The question felt a bit intrusive, and maybe it was, but like he’d told Hannah, this family was his. If he could help, he wanted to.

  “We’re fine. More than fine, really. We can pay our bills, contribute to the boys’ college and retirement a little, all the good stuff.” He shifted, and Tripp followed his gaze to Maggie, who knelt down by one of the twins while twisting open a bottle of water. “I just—I guess I want to give Maggie more. She deserves more.”

  Tripp clapped Josh on the back with his left hand. “Listen, man, I’ve known Maggie since we were kids, and she has never been happier than she is now, with you and those kids. I know she likes a few nice clothes here and there, but don’t you think she’d rather have you with her and the kids for the summer rather than a few extra wardrobe accessories?”

  Josh smiled. “A little extra never hurts. The boys’ mother was—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Maybe something part-time, even? How do I apply?”

  “If you’re set on it, come down after school tomorrow, and we’ll give you some paperwork.”

  Josh gave him a hearty, left-handed handshake. “Thanks, man.”

  Maggie approached and held out a champagne glass to each of them. “You two look awful serious over here. Come on, we’re about to have the toast.”

  They walked toward the shade of the massive weeping birch in the front of the house. Josie poured a small amount of bottled water into her empty glass. She caught his gaze and smiled tentatively. He lifted one corner of his mouth in an attempt to make peace. She beamed, sending his insides tripping over themselves. She would forgive him. And he would forgive her. It’s what they did. Argue, then make-up. Swear to hate each other forever, then find out they couldn’t live without the other’s friendship by the next day.

  Hannah held up her glass. “I’d like to propose a toast!”

  They gathered in a circle around Hannah, each holding up their glasses.

 

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