Bygones (31 page)

Eventually, the silence was broken by a
thump
and a startled wail from one of the bedrooms.

“That’s got to be Sharolyn,” Phyllis said, bouncing to her feet and heading for the hallway.

Conversations broke out again, the topics less serious. Phyllis returned, carrying her daughter, who tumbled into Leo’s arms and snuggled her tear-streaked face against his shoulder. Marie settled back on the sofa and absorbed the typical, boisterous, clamoring scene, a lump of gratitude in her throat for having the opportunity to be part of this large family once more. At the same time, she offered yet another prayer for the circle to extend to include Beth, Abigail, Ben. . .and her parents. She missed them with an intensity
that created an ache deep inside. Looking at Sharolyn in Leo’s arms provided a reminder of the long-lost relationship between herself and her father, as well as Beth’s lifelong absence of a father.

The clock on the mantel chimed five times, signaling the approach of suppertime. Joanna slapped her hands to her knees, pushing herself to her feet. “Well, I guess I’d better pull out some lunch meat and—”

A knock at the door interrupted her words. Hugo started to rise, but she waved her hand at him. “Stay put. I’m up.”

She opened the door, and a slightly younger, more slender version of Art stepped over the threshold. Marie leaped to her feet, her arms automatically reaching for the brother who, two years her senior, had alternately teased and protected her while growing up. “Ben!”

But Ben remained rooted on the little braided rug inside the door, his unsmiling gaze sweeping around the room.

Art rose haltingly. “Is something wrong?”

Ben’s jaw thrust out, reminding Marie of her father’s stern posture. When he spoke, his voice thundered with accusation, bringing another reminder of J.D. into the room. “My house was broken into this morning.”

Gasps filled the air. Marie’s legs trembled, and she sat back down, her eyes dry but unblinking. A hand descended on her shoulder—Joanna’s. She clutched it, grateful for her sister’s comforting presence.

“The thief is still in Sommerfeld?” Leo’s disbelieving query hung in the room.

Ben nodded stiffly. “Apparently so. And he strikes at the only time the watch isn’t active. That tells me this thief is knowledgeable of the town’s activities.” His glare turned on Marie. He took one step toward her. “Only one person in this town knows all the goings-on but avoids the meetinghouse. You know, too, don’t you?”

Marie gaped at her brother, her jaw flapping uselessly. She knew. Lord help her, she knew.

M
arie drew in a deep breath as Henry turned into the driveway of Lisbeth’s home. Her car waited at the back of the house, indicating Beth was there. She released the breath slowly through her nose, praying for strength.

Her gaze on the car, she gave a start when a hand closed over hers. Turning her head sharply, she found Henry fixing her with a concerned look.

“Would you like me to go in with you. . .to support you?”

Marie’s heart turned over. Henry had been such a good friend in her younger days. It amazed her that, after the number of years that had slipped by and all the changes, he could still offer his friendship so easily. A part of her wanted him to come in with her, to stand beside her, to face Beth with her. But the greater part knew she couldn’t depend on him that way.

With a sigh, she said, “I appreciate your offer, Henry, but it’s better I go alone.” She gave the hand holding hers a quick squeeze, then pulled away. A chill struck with the removal of his warm touch. Before she changed her mind, she opened the car door and stepped out, then hurried to the back porch. She stepped into the house without looking back at Henry.

Beth sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper spread in front of her. At Marie’s entrance, she looked up, and her face broke into a huge smile. “I’ve been waiting for you! I can’t wait to show you something.”

Marie’s heart pounded. “Honey, I need to talk to you.”

Beth jumped up, her blue eyes dancing. “Can’t it wait? I think you’re going to be surprised.”

Removing her coat with trembling hands, Marie debated the best thing to do. She draped the coat over the back of a chair and looked once more into Beth’s eyes. Suddenly she couldn’t ask the question that pressed at her mind. She forced her lips into a smile. “What surprise?”

Beth grabbed her mother’s hand and led her down the hallway to her bedroom, chattering as they went. “I originally planned to save this for Christmas, but I can’t wait. I hope it’s okay if you get a present two weeks early.”

It had been weeks since Marie had seen Beth so cheerful. She offered a silent prayer for guidance, then managed to answer in a teasing tone, “I’ll take a present anytime. What is it?”

With a giggle, Beth pulled her through the door and pointed at the cot where a teddy bear sat, its arm outstretched as if reaching for a hug. Tears filled Marie’s eyes, blurring her vision, but she recognized the fabric used to create the bear. Lisbeth’s appliquéd heart quilt.

On shaky legs, she moved to the cot and lifted the bear. She turned to face Beth, who beamed from the doorway.

“Are you surprised?” Before Marie could answer, she bubbled, “I’m sorry to have been so secretive, but I really wanted to surprise you. I’ve been spending a lot of time in Newton with an older lady who is teaching me different crafts. I saw her advertisement in the paper, and I thought having some unique craft items in addition to the one-of-a-kind antiques for the boutique would draw in more customers. So I’ve learned how to turn cutter quilts into stuffed
animals or wall hangings, and I’ve even learned to make stainedglass windows. It’s been fun!”

Beth crossed to Marie’s side and touched the wide ribbon tied around the bear’s neck. “Mrs. Davidson actually did most of the sewing on this one, because I wanted it to be absolutely perfect.” Her expression turned uncertain. “You’re not upset, are you, that I cut it up? After I dumped that nail polish on it, there wasn’t any other way to salvage it.”

Marie set the bear on the cot and enfolded Beth in her arms. The quilt became secondary as the full magnitude of Beth’s admission sent a wave of relief through her. Beth wasn’t the thief. She had been working on the furtherance of her business, but not the way the town had surmised. Marie berated herself for believing the worst of her daughter. How grateful she was that she hadn’t accused Beth when she’d arrived home!

Still in her mother’s embrace, Beth released a light laugh. “Does this hug mean it’s okay I chopped up the quilt?”

Marie pulled back and cupped Beth’s cheeks. “It’s beautiful, Beth. Thank you.” Picking up the bear again, she gave it a hug, smiling over its head. “I think Lisbeth would be pleased, too.”

“Oh, good!” Beth hurried toward the closet and pulled the door open. Pushing her clothes aside, she said, “There was enough of the quilt left to make two smaller ones, too.” Turning to face her mother, she held twin versions half the size of the one Marie had been given. “I’d like to keep one, and if it’s okay with you, I’d like to give the other one to Trina since she worked so closely with Lisbeth at the café.”

Once again, tears gathered. Marie nodded and forced words past the knot in her throat. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

With the two bears in her arms, Beth sat on the cot and tipped her head. Blond hair spilled across her shoulders, the strands shimmering in the light of the lantern that glowed on the dresser top.
“Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Marie swallowed, shaking her head. “Nothing. It’s not important now.” Leaning forward, she gave Beth a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you for my gift, honey. I’ll treasure it.”

Marie left Beth’s room, carrying her bear. In her own bedroom, she set the animal on the bed, resting it against the pillows. She sat and fingered one ear. A question remained unanswered. If Beth wasn’t the thief, who was?

Beth crept into her mother’s room Monday morning and touched her shoulder. “Mom?”

Her mother stirred, scrunching her face and blinking rapidly. She turned blearily in Beth’s direction, rubbed her eyes with both fists, and finally sat up. “What is it, honey?”

Beth smiled at the croaky tone. Maybe she should have brought in a cup of tea to clear the sleep from Mom’s throat. “I’m going in to Newton to finish a stained-glass project. I wondered if you’d like to come along and meet Mrs. Davidson.”

Mom pushed the covers down and swung her feet from the bed. Seated on the edge of the mattress, she peered groggily at Beth. “I’d like that.” She yawned and ran her hands through her hair, making it even more mussed. “And maybe I can do a little fabric shopping while we’re in town.”

Beth crossed her arms and smirked. “You gonna make teddy bears, too, and compete with me?”

Mom’s soft laughter sounded. “No. But I need to pull out Lisbeth’s machine and make some dresses. I think I can remember how to sew.”

Taking a step back, Beth frowned. “Dresses? What for?”

Her mother pulled in her lower lip, a sure sign of nervousness.
Beth’s heart rate increased.

Mom patted the mattress beside her. “Sit down for a minute, honey. I need to talk to you.”

With some trepidation, Beth approached the bed and perched on the edge of the mattress. “About what?”

“You know I talked to the bishop about rejoining the church.”

“Yeah.”

Mom sucked a breath through her nose, as if she needed strength. “Well, yesterday the announcement was made that I’ve been accepted back into fellowship.”

Beth’s jaw dropped. “So you’re staying here? For good?” The apology in Mom’s eyes pulled at Beth. She jumped up and moved several feet away before whirling on her mother. “You aren’t coming back to Cheyenne with me?”

Mom stood, reaching her hand toward Beth. “It’s not for sure yet. I’d need a place to live and a way to support myself here. Both of those are big needs, and I’m not sure how they’ll be met. But if I’m meant to stay, I know God will provide.”

A band of pressure seemed to wrap around Beth’s heart at her mother’s words. How could she choose the town over her own daughter? She took a backward step, shaking her head slowly. “I wish we’d never come here.”

Mom leaned her head back, her eyes closed. Beth knew she battled tears. She ping-ponged between wanting to rush forward and hug her mother or rush out of the house and not return. Finally Mom lowered her head and looked at her.

“Honey, I’m glad we came here. It hasn’t been an easy time for either of us. But being here has restored something I’ve missed for many years. Now that I’m back in fellowship with God, I feel. . .whole again. I can’t regret that.”

Her mother’s quiet, sincere tone made Beth ache with a longing
to understand what Mom meant by being “whole.” Yet she rebelled at the insinuation that her mother had lacked something all her years away from Sommerfeld.

“Are you telling me you haven’t been happy since you left here? That my dad and me—” Beth couldn’t continue. She clenched her fists, pressing them to the sides of her head. “I can’t listen to this anymore. I’ve got to—” She raced toward the back door.

Mom’s pounding steps came behind her. “Beth, wait!”