Читать книгу Deep in the Heart - Jane Perrine Myers - Страница 9

Because the idea of escape seemed cowardly, Kate lifted her head and walked across the wide entry hall, her bare feet pattering on the hardwood floors.

Rob hadn’t changed much. His hair was still dark brown with a wave. Years ago, he’d worn a buzz so he didn’t have to mess with it. Now it was longer and brushed back in a great haircut.

When he heard her footsteps, Rob turned away from Brooke to watch her. His eyes were still that odd shade of deep blue. Well, of course they were. He had a slight dark shadow across his jaw which made him even more attractive, older and more masculine than the younger Rob had been.

Even now, he was trim, but he carried more weight than he had at twenty-two, most of it in broad shoulders and a muscular chest. He still wore what had always been his favorite clothing as a teenager: a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt. And he had the same smile, the one that had always made her want to smile back at him. She couldn’t help but grin.

And she also couldn’t help but notice that his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Kate, great to see you. I heard you were back home.” Completely at ease, he reached out, put an arm around her shoulder and gave a quick squeeze before he stepped back.

“The prodigal returns,” she said. “Can’t hide news like that in a small town.” They studied each other for a few seconds before Kate asked, “What are you doing now?” He’d always wanted to be an architect, had gone to Texas A&M for that reason while she went to the University of Texas.

“I have my own architectural office in part of my house. We design houses and offices and other structures in about a fifty-mile radius.”

“That’s terrific, Rob.”

“You two know each other?” Brooke glanced back and forth between Rob and Kate. “Well, of course you do. Everyone here knows everyone else.”

“We went to high school together,” Kate said.

So far, this first meeting with her former fiancé was going better than she’d expected. All these years she’d carried a burden of guilt because she’d thought she’d broken Rob’s heart, ruined his life. He didn’t appear damaged, not a bit. He’d survived the departure of Kate Wallace quite well.

The old Kate would have been angry to be so easily forgotten. The Kate she’d become was glad Rob could greet her with a smile and an almost hug. Just because her life was in shambles was no reason to hope his was, too.

“In fact, we nearly got married before Kate left town,” Rob added.

Brooke’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Kate nodded at Brooke before she turned her attention to Rob. “How is Junie?” she asked about Rob’s wife.

Brooke and Rob looked at her for a few seconds, then at each other and finally back at Kate again.

“Junie died two years ago,” he said. “Cancer.”

“Oh, Rob, I didn’t know.” Kate put her hands to her mouth and shook her head in disbelief. “She was so young.” Only five years younger than Kate. Junie’d had the most beautiful red curls and was always filled with life and joy. When Kate heard through one of Abby’s infrequent letters that Junie and Rob had gotten married, she’d thought their home must be the happiest place in the world.

“I can’t believe it.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Rob didn’t meet her eyes.

Kate expected him to drop his head and study his athletic shoes, the move she remembered so well. Rob had always done that when he was uncomfortable or didn’t want to discuss something.

But that didn’t happen. Instead his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and he lifted his head to glare over everyone’s head.

He’d changed. For a moment, she’d wanted to see the young man she recognized who’d been so courteous and kind. But he’d vanished and a man filled with rage had taken his place.

Almost immediately, he wiped the expression of anger from his face and, as if that reaction hadn’t taken place, said to Brooke, “Show me what needs to be moved.”

“I put a mattress in my room to sleep on.” Kate waved toward the room. “I’m not going to be here very long, so I don’t really need much furniture.”

“You’re not planning to stay around?” Rob asked. “Everyone’s speculating, wondering if you’re back for good.”

“I’m leaving after Abby recovers from surgery. The reason you’re here is that Abby thinks I need a bed frame.” She shrugged. “I’m okay with only a mattress, but my sister seems to think the neighbors will talk if I don’t have a complete bed.”

“How would the neighbors know?” Brooke asked.

Kate didn’t answer. She’d stopped trying to figure out Abby years ago.

“Well, if it makes Abby happy…” Rob said. “Someone show me the way.”

“I think there’s a frame upstairs,” Brooke said.

“If you’ll get that, I’ll clear a place for it,” Kate volunteered.

Rob started up the steps after her niece, then stopped on the landing to ask, “What size?”

“Single. Grab the easiest one to get to.”

“I plan to.”

She went back to the bedroom and shoved the sparse furnishings toward one side so Rob could set up the bed. She’d just leaned the mattress against the wall when she heard the sound of scraping across the kitchen floor. “In here,” she called.

Rob and Brooke moved gingerly around the corner, each holding sections of the metal bed frame.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve helped you.”

“There isn’t room for anyone else,” Rob said as he leaned the metal rails against the wall. “Fortunately this won’t be hard to put together.” He wiped a little perspiration from his forehead. “Do you want a headboard?”

“Do I need one? Will the frame hold the mattress without it?” When he nodded, she said, “This is fine.”

The three worked in the small space, running into each other as they joined rails and turned knobs until the rectangle came together.

“We’ll need to get a box spring to hold the mattress,” Rob said. All three went upstairs, found what they needed and shoved it down the stairs and into the bedroom.

Not that it was as easy as it sounded. They’d had to move several chairs and a bag of pillows to drag the springs from the room. When Rob and Kate pushed it down the hall, they nearly impaled Brooke against the wall.

The laughter that followed caused Abby to look into the hall and glare at them. “I’m trying to rest.” She slammed the door shut.

The movers bit their lips and guided the springs down the staircase, barely missing Coco, who waited for them at the bottom of the steps. Once in the bedroom, they all fell on the floor and laughed until Brooke jumped to her feet and ran from the room.

“What’s the matter with her?” Rob asked as he stood and held his hand out to help Kate to her feet.

“I think she’s embarrassed she was having so much fun.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I know. It doesn’t make sense.” She shook her head. “You know I never understood my sister. Now I find her daughter nearly as baffling.”

In no time, they shoved the springs on the frame and placed the mattress on top.

As they turned to congratulate each other on the accomplishment, their eyes met and the years fell away. During that moment, Kate didn’t feel like the young woman who had the world before her and had traded Rob for that dream. No, for just a second, she felt like the girl he’d taken to the prom, like the girl who’d loved him so much, like the girl who’d always planned to come back to Silver Lake and marry Rob.

But she never had, and she was no longer that girl. And Rob had married someone else and been very happy.

“Daddy, Daddy.” A little girl’s voice came from the porch outside the kitchen door.

Immediately Rob stepped back and the fragile connection vanished.

“Yes, kitten?” He turned toward the door as a tornado with short red curls wearing pink overalls rushed inside and threw herself at Rob’s knees. Laughing, he picked the child up. “This is my daughter, Lora,” he said, his voice full of love and pride. “She had a birthday last month and is three years old.”

“Three.” Lora hesitated for a few seconds before holding up the correct number of fingers.

“Oh, Rob, she’s darling.” Kate started to reach her arms out to take the child, then stopped. Where had that reaction come from? She was not good with children, not a bit, and hadn’t had the slightest desire to pick one up for years. She stepped back a little and said, “She looks like her mother.”

He nodded as he nuzzled Lora’s hair.

“Puppy, Daddy. Puppy.” Lora wiggled in her father’s arms to get down as Coco ambled from the bedroom and gave a soft woof.

“She’s a very gentle dog.” Kate moved toward the cocker and crouched next to her.

Rob placed his daughter on the floor and held her hand as the child pulled him toward Coco. Once there, she patted the dog on the head. Coco smiled up at Lora, who fell to her knees and began to scratch the dog behind the ears.

“Daddy, I want a puppy.”

Rob shook his head in frustration. “Kitten, we’ve talked about this before. When you’re older and can help take care of a pet, we’ll find you one.”

“Daddy, puppy likes me.”

“Her name is Coco,” Kate said.

“I like Coco.” Lora smiled and her blue eyes danced with excitement.

“Don’t let my daughter take you in. She can charm anyone to get exactly what she wants.” But Rob’s gaze at his daughter was soft and filled with love. “Obviously she wants a puppy now.”

“You can visit Coco whenever you want, Lora.”

But the child was busy scratching Coco’s fluffy tummy. Rob and Kate watched the scene until a knock sounded on the screen door.

“Rob, I’m sorry.” An older woman with gray hair and Rob’s smile stood outside. “She got away from me.”

“Come on in, Mrs. Chambers.” Kate welcomed her as she opened the door. “How nice to see you.”

“Hello.” Rob’s mother nodded without making eye contact.

As had been her habit when she and Rob were dating, Kate reached out to hug Mrs. Chambers. When the older woman stiffened, Kate dropped her arms to her sides.

“Heard you were back in town.” Mrs. Chambers stared icily at Kate, then stepped away from her to talk to her son. “Rob, your daughter and I started toward the park, but Lora knew you were in here and took off.”

“She has a mind of her own,” Rob said.

“And you spoil her terribly.” Mrs. Chambers shook her head before she smiled. “It’s hard not to.”

“Kitten, I came here to help Miss Abby.” He bent his knees to speak to the child at eye level. “Why don’t you stay on the porch with Grandma. When I finish, we’ll get some ice cream.”

“Promise, Daddy?” She patted his cheek.

“I promise.” Rob kissed the small hand and stood, watching his daughter skip out to the porch holding his mother’s hand. “And mind your grandmother,” he called after them. “As if that’s going to make any difference,” he mumbled.

“Rob, go ahead.” Kate glanced at him, but his eyes followed his daughter. “We’re done. Thanks for the help.”

She put her hand on his arm, casually, like a friend. In an instant, Kate remembered how she’d felt for Rob years earlier. Odd that sensation remained after so long. Or maybe it was a reaction to this new and very attractive Rob.

“Do you want to join us for ice cream?” Rob’s face showed not one bit of enthusiasm for her presence.

As she studied his square jaw and broad shoulders, she realized this wasn’t the Rob who’d taken her to the prom. This was the young man she’d left behind. No matter what he said, his expression told her that he didn’t want her to join them. Not at all.

“Thanks. I’m tired. Long drive.” She yawned. “Maybe another time.”

He turned toward the door.

“Your daughter is a doll.”

“Yes, she is.” He looked back at Kate, his eyes gentle with a father’s love. “She’s the joy of my life.”

That night Kate tossed and turned for hours. The mattress had a slightly musty smell and several odd lumps. As soon as she thought she’d found a comfortable position, she’d move a fraction of an inch and hit another bump.

At the end of the bed, Coco snored, the soft snuffles of an elderly dog. In the city, covered by the noise of traffic, the snores had never bothered her. Here in the quiet of the country, even the tiniest sound kept her awake.

But it wasn’t the mattress or Coco’s snores or the sound of the wind and the drone of insects outside her window that wouldn’t let Kate sleep. What ate at her and kept her awake was being home and not knowing how and where she fit or even if she did belong, here or anywhere else.

The problem was wondering what the future held for a woman who’d lost any hope of a reference for a new job in her field when she’d testified against her boss.

What kept her awake was the awareness that back when she grew up in Silver Lake, she’d known exactly what she wanted and had the confidence to go after it. Now she no longer possessed either that knowledge or assurance.

All of that kept her awake.

Kate woke up at seven-thirty the next morning. Sunday morning. The house was quiet. The silence shouldn’t have surprised her. The commotion she remembered from years earlier existed only in her memory and in Abby’s.

When Dad was alive, by this time on a Sunday morning, he’d been up for an hour fixing breakfast. The aroma of hickory-smoked bacon and coffee would have wafted from the kitchen while Mom dashed around waking her daughters and trying to keep them alert long enough to get out of bed and come down for breakfast.

If nothing else reminded her that her parents were no longer alive, the quiet house and the complete lack of tantalizing scents coming from the kitchen would have convinced her. The sense of loss hit her hard. For a moment, she felt the absence of her mother and father so strongly she had to hold back the tears.

How she wished she could go back all those years and wake up to see them smiling at each other and working together. Mom would be listening as Dad explained for the thousandth time how to cook bacon so it was crisp and the advantages of using newspaper to scour out the old black iron skillet.

She should have come home years ago.

Tossing the covers back and wondering why she was so wide-awake after tossing and turning half the night, Kate stood, slipped on her slippers and shrugged into a robe.

With Coco behind her, she wandered into the kitchen.

“What are you doing up so early?”

She jumped when she heard Brooke’s voice. Her niece had sneaked up on her again. “I thought I’d go to church with you this morning,” Kate said.

Why had she said that? She hadn’t been to church for years and hadn’t even considered it until the words emerged from her mouth. Maybe the fact was that she didn’t go to church in New York or Houston or Miami but she did in Silver Lake. Well, attending the service probably wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, it would be nice to see the people who’d been so nice, who’d brought food, and to accept Mrs. Oglesby’s invitation.

“We don’t go to church,” Brooke said, her voice muffled as she stuck her head in the refrigerator.

When Brooke straightened and pulled out a jar of jelly, Kate asked, “You don’t go to church? We always went to church when I lived here.”

Brooke could have said, “You haven’t lived here for a long time,” but she didn’t. Instead she twisted the tie off a loaf of bread, took out a slice, put it in the toaster and pushed the lever down. Any observer would’ve thought the silver surface covered the most fascinating invention in the universe from the way the child contemplated it.

“Well,” Kate asked the back of Brooke’s head, “do you want to come with me?”

Brooke turned and stared at her aunt with those somber eyes, looking older and sadder than any nine-year-old should be. Of course, Kate hadn’t been acquainted with many nine-year-olds since she helped with the junior fellowship at church when she was in high school. None of those kids had ever gazed at her like this, their expression full of sorrow.

“Okay,” Brooke mumbled before the toast popped up and she grabbed it.

Still a little surprised by her decision to go to church, Kate decided to skip Sunday school and eat a leisurely breakfast, occasionally dropping a tidbit for Coco. As she read the paper, she noticed that Brooke would glance at her aunt, then surreptitiously drop a small piece of toast to the dog.

By ten-thirty, Kate had showered and dressed in a nice pair of taupe slacks and an ecru silk shirt she hoped would be acceptable for church in Silver Lake. She hadn’t brought a dress with her—she hadn’t planned to go anyplace that needed one.

By ten-thirty, she was also running late. She left Coco sleeping on her bed, grabbed her purse and ran outside to the front porch where Brooke waited. “Do you want to walk or ride?”

Brooke didn’t say a word, just looked in the direction of Kate’s car with a raised eyebrow. The silent response was obvious. She wouldn’t be caught dead in that thing.

“Okay, let’s walk.”

It wasn’t far. As children, they’d made the trip in less than five minutes, but today Kate wore sandals with two-inch heels and was accompanied by a less than enthusiastic companion. Even with all that, they arrived five minutes before the service started.

With each step, she could see more of Bethany Church. She’d always thought it was a lovely building and had compared it favorably to every church she attended before she stopped going completely five years earlier.

At the end of the first block, the tall wooden cross on top of a roof shingled with black slate punched through the treetops. She kept her eye on it and the few cars on the street as she encouraged Brooke to keep up with her.

When they crossed the street Kate saw a woman coming toward them, a woman who glowered at Kate as if she were the lowest form of life in the universe.

Kate forced herself to smile into the frown of Sandra Dolinski. “Hello, Sandra. How are you?”

Sandra didn’t answer, only stared a few more seconds before she turned and strode away as Kate watched.

Although yearning to say something to that straight, judgmental back, Kate bit her lip. She’d hoped her long absence had washed away any resentment about how high and mighty Kate Wallace had been back then.

Guess not.

“Who was that?” Brooke asked. “Why was she so mean?”

“I wasn’t always nice when I was in high school.” Kate headed toward the church again, not wanting to explain that Sandra’s was one of the boyfriends she’d stolen. She had to apologize to her someday.

After the confrontation with Sandra, Kate really did worry about her reception at church. Would there be others there who remembered the old, petty, conceited Kate? Who would like to get back at her?

She pushed the thoughts aside and kept walking. She could hardly turn around and go back home now, not when she’d talked Brooke into coming, not when it meant giving in to Sandra’s anger.

When they were half a block from the church, the windows of the youth and children’s Sunday school department peeked through the leaves. Cars turned off the street and into the parking lots or pulled up to park against the curb.

Next, the beautiful stained-glass window of Jesus praying in the garden appeared through a break in the branches.

Finally, as they turned onto the broad sidewalk in the front of the building, she saw the strength and beauty of the church. Built of pale gray limestone quarried from the hills in the area, it looked as if it would stand for eternity. As she entered the front doors, she was struck by a deep yearning for the faith that used to sustain her. Even stronger was regret that she’d lost the assurance of that faith over the past few years in the shuffle of her life, under the layers of what she’d thought was more important.

They were late enough that most of the congregation had settled in the sanctuary except the few who straggled in from the street with her. Through the open doors between the sanctuary and the greeting area, she heard the organist playing the prelude and a low buzz of conversation. No one had ever learned that the prelude was supposed to be a time of quiet meditation, not a meet-and-greet session. Another thing that hadn’t changed in Silver Lake over the years.

She took three more steps until she stood barely inside the sanctuary. A woman she didn’t know handed her an order of worship and Brooke tugged at her hand to pull her down the aisle. Oddly the child headed toward an empty pew while Kate, afraid there were more like Sandra Dolinski inside, wanted to whirl around and run.

Who was she fooling by coming to church after so many years? Certainly not God.

Why was she here? Although she knew most of the people inside would welcome her, she feared the judgment and gossip that might greet her after her time away.

Many years earlier she would have prayed for strength from God, but they weren’t on that good of terms anymore. All her fault, she knew.

The irony that today she needed strength from God before entering His house was not lost on her.

“Come on, Aunt Kate,” Brooke whispered loudly enough for everyone inside to turn around and watch them.

She took a deep breath and followed Brooke toward a pew a few rows behind Rob and his mother and across from Mrs. Oglesby.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she whispered. “What am I doing here?” And yet, as the service began, the music filled and lifted her; the beauty and truth of the scripture inspired her; and the sermon both challenged and comforted her.

After the service, people gathered around her, people who greeted her and were glad to see her. A lovely surprise.

“So nice to have you home,” her grade-school principal said. “We’re proud how you stood up against that crooked congressman.”

“Takes a lot of courage to do that,” Mrs. Watkins, her high school journalism teacher said, and patted her on the shoulder. “Good job.”

Mrs. Watkins had what was called “big Texas hair.” So blond it was almost white, it puffed from her head like a giant dandelion-gone-to-seed, but a very nicely colored and well-coiffed dandelion-gone-to-seed. Like other women with “big Texas hair” she had flawless makeup and her fingers, ears and neck—every square inch possible—glittered with jewelry.

“Thank you.” She’d always loved this teacher. Mrs. Watkins’s enthusiasm and knowledge had been her motivation for getting a degree in journalism.

Grabbing Kate’s hand with her beautifully kept fingers, Mrs. Watkins said, “If you’re looking for something to keep you busy while you’re here, I’ve got a part-time job at the Sentinel. I’m editor there now.”

“You are? Congratulations.” But before she could tell her she was not interested in a job, people surrounded them, chatting.

After more greetings and pats on the back, Kate knew why she was in this place, in Bethany Church.

“Thank you, God,” she whispered as she left with Brooke. “Thank you for bringing me home.” Even if the methods God used seemed circumspect and the road home bumpy, she was grateful. It felt good to be here, to be welcome. To belong.

Now all she had to do was to persuade Sandra Dolinski and her sister to forgive and accept her, too.

Without a lot of guidance and grace from God, there was little chance of that.