She turned her head and looked out the window. It was a warm, bright spring day. “Such a waste,” she said simply.
He waited.
“I prayed for Papa, for God to give him a new heart, like He gave Saul. But He did not. In those days, twenty-one was an old maid, and I believe Papa was sometimes sorry that no one courted me. But there was no one, you see, there was only Willard. And then . . . two or three years later, there was Absalom Greer.”
Miss Sadie’s eyes twinkled. “Absalom Greer! Another uneducated man! I never could get it right. Which, of course, is why Uncle Haywood wanted me to go off to Paris, France, and then debut in Atlanta where I’d meet all those fancy boys. He told Papa if I stayed in Mitford I would wind up an old maid—or with dishpan hands, married to a farmer!
“I never did like Uncle Haywood,” she said, flatly. “By the way, did you bring my doughnut?”
“Your doughnut!” said the rector, patting his jacket pocket and bringing out a bag that had mashed rather flat. “I’m sorry to say Winnie was out of doughnuts, all she had left was the holes, so I brought you four!”
“Four doughnut holes,” said Miss Sadie, solemnly, peering down into the bag. “They can’t be very filling, can they?”
She laughed suddenly, and, for the first time, he saw the girl she had been. It lasted only a moment, the face of the girl, but it was there, and something in him connected with the young Sadie.
“Absalom Greer worked for Papa at the lumberyard. Of course, I never went down there much, but when I did, I liked it. I had taken to sitting rather gloomily around the house, just to show Papa how wicked he’d been, and how I hadn’t forgotten what he’d done.
“He said that what I needed was fresh air and hard work. So, he took me down to the lumberyard and put me in his office and opened all the windows, and that was the fresh air.
“Then he sat me down with an adding machine and ledgers, and that was the hard work!
“I have made Papa sound like a mean man. But oh, I loved him, and he could be such fun. Some days, he would just relax and laugh and pet me to beat the band. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not teach me to keep those hateful books.
“One day, a young man knocked on the office door and I opened it and there he was—a big, tall boy, as slim as a bean pole, wearing a cap and carrying a Bible. There was a kind of electricity about him. He looked down at me and said, ‘Miss Sadie Baxter, are you saved?’
“Why, I declare I didn’t know what on earth he was talking about! I looked straight up at him and said, ‘Well, I’m not lost!’
“He was the cutest thing, so tall and jovial, he had the heartiest laugh and the nicest smile, and knew how to talk plain talk. I just felt so at home with him, like I had a brother, and he was so excited about the Lord and about the Bible. Once, Papa came in and Absalom was sitting there reading me a Bible story on his dinner break. He didn’t miss a beat, he just raised his voice and read louder.
“Papa went and sat down at his desk, he was amazed. I don’t think he knew what to do about it, so he didn’t do anything. It kind of made me nervous, but Absalom read all the way to the end of Second Samuel, then got up, put his Bible under his arm, tipped his cap, and went back to work.”
Father Tim laughed with delight. That was another picture of the boy who had been delirious with God, the one who had come home from the silver mine and been knocked out of bed one night with a “two-by-four” and had gotten up, at last, to answer God’s call.
“Every day at dinnertime—we called it dinner, then, you know—Papa was usually out on the yard, and Absalom would come in and read to me. What a beautiful voice he had, and how hard he tried to polish his diction and improve his speech! It was a wonderful thing to watch, someone with so little schooling and so much yearning.
“Then came the day he asked if he could court me. ‘Ask Papa,’ I said, with fear and trembling. I had never been courted in my life, and I was nearly twenty-five years old. My father was the richest man in Mitford or Wesley, and a laborer out of his lumberyard was asking to court me. I didn’t see one ray of hope in it.
“I remember I was so excited and upset, I ran to the back door and heaved up, if you’ll pardon the expression, Father.
“The next morning, on the way to the yard, Papa was looking straight ahead at the road and he said, ‘Sadie, Absalom Greer has asked if he can court you. What do you think about it?’
“I couldn’t believe my ears that Papa was asking me what I thought about something. I said, ‘Papa, I have prayed about it, and I would like to be courted by Absalom Greer.’ My heart beat so hard I thought I would pass out, but I always remembered that China Mae thought fainting was too white for words, so I never did it.
“ ‘Well, then,’ Papa said, ‘I am going to give him my permission.’
“ ‘Papa,’ I said, ‘thank you for your permission, but what I would covet is your blessing.’
“He must have given it to us, for Absalom was allowed to come to our house, he ate Sunday supper with us before he preached in the evenings, and often I’d go with him and sit on the front row. We were allowed to drive Papa’s town car on special occasions, and once Papa gave Absalom a beautiful suit that was cut too slim, and it fit Absalom like it was made for him! I’ll never forget what Mama said, she said, ‘My! You look like a Philadelphia lawyer!’ That pleased Absalom so much.
“You should have heard him preach, Father! Why, he’d take the fuzz off a peach. Lord’s Chapel hadn’t had a fine preacher for a long time, and I was starved nearly to death to hear such wondrous things—about salvation and redemption and Christ’s suffering for me.
“Absalom made it all so personal, as you often do, and under his preaching, the Bible came alive for me. He was the one who tried to teach me the great meaning of Philippians four-thirteen.”
A banner verse, he thought, smiling.
“But Absalom was like a brother . . . I still loved Willard. Now that I was getting out and about more, I would often see Willard, and the pain of that was very deep. His house was finished, of course, and the most beautiful sight in town—it was more wonderful than Boxwood.
“They said Willard worked all the time; even though he joined the new country club, all he did was work. He joined the Presbyterian church, and he worked over there, too. Why, he helped them raise enough money for a new building in a little over a year, and in those days, that was something to crow about.
“All this time, Rose wasn’t doing well. They didn’t know much about her disease, and they still don’t, I’m told. But he took such good care of her, and then his mother passed away, and it was just the two of them in that grand house, a lonely man and a confused girl. Father, there were times when my heart was so broken for him that I wanted nothing more than to knock on his door and go in to him, and never leave.
“But something happened after a while, after two or three years of courting Absalom. It wasn’t that I no longer cared for Willard, but the caring had worn me out. I was very tired from caring so much and loving so much and hoping.”
She took a sip of water from a glass on the windowsill.
“Papa and Mama had come to like Absalom, and even though he had no money, and probably never would, they were happy with things, and all the hurt and the anguish seemed . . . in the past. I would not have wanted to upset that delicate balance for anything in the world.
“When I’d see Willard, he would tip his hat to me, though rumor had it that Papa had threatened to kill him if he ever spoke to me. It’s a hard thing to have to change your opinion of someone you love, and my opinion of Papa was changing, no matter how hard I tried to hold it back. It was like trying to hold back the ocean.
“The lumber business got awful bad, and I don’t think our finances had ever recovered from the money that was spent on Fernbank. You’ve never seen the little ballroom with the painted ceiling, it’s been closed up all these years, but that alone cost a fortune. The man who painted it came from Italy and lived here thirty-four months. And, of course, just look at all this millwork. Nobody in western North Carolina had finer, except Mr. Vanderbilt, of course.
“Father, you know how word gets around in a small town, and the word got around about our circumstances, and Willard heard it, and he approached Papa and offered to buy him out. I know why Willard did that, it was one way of saying, here, let me give you a good price for your business and save your face, and make things right after all these years.
“But Papa didn’t take it that way. It made him so angry, thinking that Willard pitied him, that we thought he was going to have a heart attack.
“Mama said, ‘I am sick and tired of this hateful, evil battle between you and a man who made a foolish mistake and lived to regret it and said so. I will no longer tolerate the dark spirit it brings into this house and into my husband, and into the heart of my child, and I beg you in the name of all that’s holy to meet with Willard Porter and face him like a gentleman and settle your differences and ask God to forgive you.’
“That was the single boldest thing I ever heard my mother say.
“Do you know that my father bowed his head and wept? Mama went and stood beside him and put her arm around him, and I dropped down at his feet and clasped my arms around his legs, and we all cried together. China Mae was standing outside the door, and tears were streaming down her face, and she was praying and thanking God.”
Miss Sadie drew a handkerchief from her robe pocket and touched her eyes.
“It’s all as clear to me as if it happened yesterday. I remember the fire was crackling in the fire-place, and Papa said we’d need more wood, they were calling for a big drop in the temperature, it was January. He stood up and hugged us both, and Mama said, ‘Why not see if you can meet with Mr. Porter now, while your resolve is fresh, and come home to the night’s sleep you’ve been needing for so long.’
“ ‘I’ll do it,’ he said, and I remember that I trembled as he rang the operator and asked for Willard Porter.
“He told Willard he had to go to church to take care of something, he was the senior warden, and it would be a fitting place to settle their differences, if he’d care to meet him there.
“It was awkward for Papa, I could tell. Mama was standing beside me, holding on to my arm for dear life, I don’t think she drew a breath ’til that phone call was ended.
“I don’t know why, but I was very troubled. Mama went to her room to pray and asked me to pray, and I did. I got on my knees beside my bed. Then, I got up and put on my alpaca cape with the hood and my fur gloves—it was very cold— and I let myself out the front door.
“I just started walking to the church. And even though it was pitch-dark, it was nearly like walking from my dining room to the kitchen, it was all so familiar to me. I don’t know what I expected, or why I went, I just seemed pulled along. I remember how loud my heart was beating in my ears.
“Ice had formed all along the road, in some places it was slippery and dangerous, and I just kept walking in that bitter cold and grave darkness.
“You know where the old steps are in the stone wall along Church Hill Drive? Well, I went up those icy steps, holding on to the railing, and I could see that Papa’s and Willard’s cars were parked in the back of the church, because the moon came out all at once.”
Miss Sadie pulled the afghan up around her shoulders and shivered slightly. Father Tim was suddenly aware that she looked very old, something he’d never seemed to notice before.
“When I reached the door, I heard their voices, and they were not the peaceful voices I had longed to hear, they were angry and shouting. Papa was accusing Willard of trying to humiliate him in front of the town, and Willard said he had come to make peace, and he didn’t care to hear any more insults and lies.
“The door was standing open, and I could see them so clearly. Papa had lit an oil lamp, it was sitting on the little table at the back of the nave, and I remember a strong smell of linseed oil that came off the floors; they’d just been done for a wedding the next Sunday.
“Papa was standing on one side of the table, and Willard was standing on the other. I wanted to rush in and stop them from arguing, but I felt frozen to the spot. I knew that Papa had left the house with the truest of intentions in his heart, but somehow the Enemy had snared him along the way.
“Papa swung his fist at Willard, and Willard stepped back. Papa’s arm sent the oil lamp reeling off the table, and it dashed against the floor, and an awful flame leaped up. It was all so sudden, and so horrible, I cannot tell you how quickly that sheet of flame raced across the oiled floor. I felt that the very soul of evil had been unleashed. And still I could not move, though I remember I heard myself screaming.
“I turned and ran home as fast as I could, falling on the ice and trying to keep to the sides of the road where it wasn’t so slick.
“I turned around and looked back once, and I saw the church lighted up inside. It was so horrible, I shall never forget that sight as long as I live. For years I prayed I might die, so that the memory of it would be erased.
“I crept into the house and went upstairs and looked out my window. The flames were already leaping around the wooden walls, and it seemed the fields were lighted up for miles around.
“They said that when the fire truck came, the water was frozen, and there was no way to do anything but watch it burn. Water everywhere was hard as stone, and there was only that searing flame licking the frozen hilltop.”
Miss Sadie closed her eyes and let out a shuddering sigh. “ ‘They have cast fire into thy sanctuary,’ ” she quoted slowly from the Seventy-fourth Psalm, “ ‘they have defiled by casting down the dwelling place of thy name to the ground.’ ” She rested her head against the cushion of the chair.
The clock ticked in the room, and the rector felt his heart beat dully. How had this small woman contained this large secret for so long?