Authors: Emilie Richards
Nancy sputtered. “I didn’t tell Elisa to say a blessed thing.”
Elisa laughed. “I’ve been in trouble a time or two for
not
doing what I’m told, but never the reverse.” She glanced at her watch. “We’re keeping you too long.”
“Did you ever learn to weave?” Helen asked.
“It’s like so many things. I thought the chance would be there forever, and now I’m here and the chance is gone.”
“You could quilt.”
“I have never sewed much,” Elisa said doubtfully. “I don’t have a machine.”
“I have three. You’ll be living right here. You can have your choice, and I’ll teach you.”
Surprised, Elisa heard the offer and everything that came with it. She had a home if she wanted one. She also had a responsibility to this woman if she accepted the offer. This would not be as simple as she had hoped. If she packed and left in the middle of the night, Helen would be alone. And Helen would not take in another companion.
Yet what could she do? She was certain that if she refused, Helen would not offer this invitation to anyone else. And living here would solve Adoncia’s problem, as well as Elisa’s own.
“I would like to try,” she said carefully.
“Just so everybody in the room knows it,” Helen said. “I like Miss Martinez, and that’s the
only
reason she has been invited to stay here.”
“Mama, there’s not a person in this room dumb enough to think you’d do anything just because we wanted you to,” Nancy said. “You can count on that.”
Elisa was surprised at the way the remainder of the afternoon developed. Instead of going home, she and Sam stayed at Helen’s house to help. Assuming that his fiancée was still in town, she had expected Sam to make their visit short so he could spend the rest of his day off with her, but he had explained—too casually, she thought—that Christine had driven to Washington on Saturday to spend some time with old friends before she returned to Georgia.
Sam’s personal life was none of her business, but she wondered about his engagement. She knew from the little she had picked up that Sam and Christine rarely saw each other. If Sam were her fiancé, she would not be inclined to spend so much time with other people.
As the others packed, Elisa was pressed into service as Reese’s nanny, while Sam helped Zeke Claiborne pack the old minivan he had bought for the trip. Zeke was a young man still growing into a lanky physique, but Elisa could see how seriously he took his responsibilities.
Manual labor agreed with Sam. He seemed to relish physical activity, running up and down the stairs with boundless energy. For someone who spent so much of his life in spiritual and intellectual pursuits, he had the body of an athlete. Ten minutes into multiple trips outside, he had changed from khakis and a sport shirt into shorts and a T-shirt he kept in a gym bag in his car. He had muscular calves and thighs, and arms strong enough to have lifted George Jenkins off the ground Wednesday night and held him there until he sobered up.
Tessa came downstairs and showed Elisa where to put the baby, who had finally fallen asleep in her arms. Tessa had managed a brief hello earlier, but there hadn’t been time for more.
“Gram tells me you’re moving in?” she said when Reese was safely tucked into a port-a-crib in the back of the house.
“You approve?”
“You’ll be great for her. We’re all so relieved.”
“I’ll enjoy living here.”
“How would you like a tour? Outside, I mean. It’s a little chaotic to show you much about the house, but I need to stretch my legs. Mom and Cissy will keep an eye on Reese, but I can guarantee she’ll sleep at least an hour.”
Evening was on its way, but the temperature was in the high eighties, at least, and Elisa needed to stretch. She followed Tessa outside, taking a quick breath when the wall of heat and humidity hit her on the third step of the porch. “Your family has lived here a long time?”
“For generations. There were Stoneburners and Lichliters all over the area until World War II. Gram lost nearly everybody to the fighting or the aftermath or the economy. Her husband was killed at Pearl Harbor. He was a distant cousin of the Claibornes, so he had roots here, too. Gram raised my mother alone.”
Elisa was never surprised at the sadness people could recount. “It must have been hard to keep the farm.”
“That’s why she’s so stubborn, and why she doesn’t waste time on tact. She never had time for anything but plain speaking and doing what she knew was right. Whether it was or not.”
Elisa laughed softly. “We’ll get along. Most of my life I’ve been surrounded by people who were sure they were right.”
“Were they? Right?”
Elisa sobered. “Too often for their own good.”
Tessa remained silent, as if inviting Elisa to share. But she had already shared more than she was comfortable with. She changed the conversation’s direction. “All this land belongs to Helen?”
“Yes. She leases chunks to local farmers, some for corn, some for cattle.” Tessa pointed out boundaries in the distance and the locations of fields. “There are more farms to the west and south of us, and about fifty acres of woods and fields over toward the river that someone’s bound to build on someday. Let’s go this way and I’ll show you the pond. Last summer we were afraid it would dry up, but all the rain this year has filled it again.”
They passed a fenced-in area with something that looked a little like a gypsy’s wagon. It was surrounded by chickens pecking in the grass, chickens of different colors and sizes.
“The chickens are Gram’s weakness,” Tessa said. “And that’s a portable chicken coop in the center. When they’ve pecked up every weed and bug inside the fence, we hitch it up to the tractor and move it to another spot, stake out the fence again and let them have at it.”
“Ingenious.”
“Gram never kept a pet. But you’ll find she comes out here and talks to the chickens two or three times a day, then makes sure all the barn cats are fed. You won’t have to do a thing for any of them. And you’ll have all the eggs you can possibly eat. I don’t seem to be able to get enough of them now that I’m pregnant.”
Elisa had been looking for an opening and jumped right in. “How are you feeling? Have you had any more dizziness?”
“No, and I wanted to thank you again for all your help the other day.”
“I did very little.”
“I called my doctor and made an appointment for tomorrow. But he said exactly what you did. Since I don’t have any other symptoms, it doesn’t sound like there’s much to worry about. And my husband’s getting a ride up here tonight to drive me home, so I won’t have to sit behind the steering wheel for any length of time.”
“Good. You’ll feel better when you know for certain. There are enough things to worry about, yes?”
They had reached a pond, perhaps half an acre in size. Reeds grew at the edges, and Canada geese patrolled the opposite shore under giant weeping willows.
“Oh, isn’t this lovely?” Elisa was entranced. “I can see where I’ll be spending time every day.”
“I lived with Gram last summer, and I came out to the pond whenever I needed time to think. I also picked a million blackberries. There’s a creek in that direction with blackberries and wine berries all along the edges.” She pointed. “But it’s late in the season. You won’t find too many now. You can wade, though. Just watch out for snakes.”
“Sam said you and your mother were here to fix up the house?”
“We carried out tons of Gram’s ‘collectibles.’ Like newspapers and rags and bottles. She’s pretty good these days, but you’ll need to watch her.”
“I’ve been warned.”
“It was a good summer. We’re closer. We met Cissy for the first time and got to know her, too.”
“She’s a lovely girl. Young to have a baby, at least in this country.”
“Not in yours?”
“We have many young women marrying and giving birth well before they should. Our maternal health statistics are not good.”
“I’m on the other end of the spectrum.”
“For a first baby, yes.”
“This isn’t my first.”
From Tessa’s tone, Elisa realized there was more to that simple statement than Tessa was saying. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I assumed that. You have other children?”
Tessa didn’t answer right away. Elisa was sure now that she had walked into something without knowing it.
“I had a daughter,” Tessa said at last. “Kayley. She would have been nine this year. She was killed by a drunk driver.”
Elisa didn’t know what to say. She just put a hand on Tessa’s shoulder.
Tessa seemed to welcome her touch. “I was sure I’d never want another child.”
“But you decided to take a chance.”
“I have to thank Reese. When Cissy brought her home from the hospital, I looked into that tiny face, and Reese stared right back at me. It’s a long story how I got there, but I realized I was ready to try again, and I needed to do it soon. I was lucky. I got pregnant two months later.”
Elisa squeezed Tessa’s shoulder before she dropped her hand. “I know it must have taken courage.”
“For the most part I’m doing okay. I think most of us are blissfully ignorant about what can happen when we decide to have a child. On some level we understand risk. We just never think those things will happen to us. But since I know they can and do, I’m too aware of every little thing.”
“Like the dizziness? That wasn’t a little thing. It was something I—” Elisa changed direction. “Something I’m sure your doctor wanted you to report. I’ll bet he told you that when you called. Yes?”
“He did.”
“Of course, it won’t be the same for you as it might be for a young woman with no experience. But maybe you also realize how…” Elisa paused to think of the right expression. “How random the universe is. Maybe you will appreciate what you have even more, because you understand it can be taken away. Through no fault of your own.”
“You’re speaking from experience.”
“I understand the way life can change in an instant.”
Tessa waited again, as if she were encouraging Elisa to say more. When she didn’t, Tessa went on. “Thank you for listening to me. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
Elisa liked Tessa. By the same token, she was afraid she might have found a friend with more insight than Elisa could afford.
They heard footsteps, and Sam approached from the direction they had taken. “Helen said I’d find you here.”
He had changed back into long pants and a sport shirt, and looked like a man with a mission. Elisa was contrite. “I’m sorry, do you need to leave?”
“I didn’t, but I do now. One of our parishioners was taken to the hospital in Winchester. He’s not expected to make it through the night. I need to get over there. I can take you back to the church if we leave right now.”
“I’ll take her back.” Tessa thought better of that. “No, Mom will take her. She won’t mind a bit, and that will keep me out from behind the wheel.”
“That would be a big help,” Sam said. “Shall I wait while you ask?”
“No. If Mom can’t, Zeke or Cissy will. You go on. Elisa’s one of the gang now. We’ll take care of her.”
Sam turned to Elisa. “I hate to abandon you this way.”
For a moment she thought there was more to his statement than simple good manners. His gaze was warm. She felt her cheeks warm in response.
“You go,” she said. “I’ll be at the church at eight tomorrow morning to start my training.”
“Goodbye, then.” He glanced at Tessa. “Thanks again.”
They watched him disappear down the path.
“Sam’s wonderful at what he does, although not everyone thinks so,” Tessa said when he was gone. “He’s definitely controversial.”
“He has many problems in the church?” Elisa thought of George and Leon Jenkins, and wondered what was behind the controversy.
“He has more supporters than enemies. As long as the balance remains that way, he’ll remain as minister. But I wonder sometimes if he’s really happy here. It’s a small country church, and he’s a man with obvious talents. Plus he goes home every night to an empty house, and I think he’s a man with a lot of love to give.”
Elisa wondered why Tessa had chosen to confide that.
She knew better than to ask.
S
am’s parents had hoped he would become a doctor. He often thought of that when he walked through a hospital doorway. No one knew how he had to steel himself to cross the threshold. He hated nearly everything inside. The institutional feel, the smell, the unrelenting clatter, the reminders of his own mortality. He wanted to lay hands on every patient and send them home. He hated suffering and disease, but his was not a healing ministry. He could only comfort with his belief that God was a constant presence. He was always moved when that turned out to be enough.
Dinnertime was near when he arrived at the hospital in Winchester where Newt Rafferty had been taken to die. Newt, a widower, was a former Community Church deacon who had resigned from the board eight months ago when his health took a turn for the worse. Claiming the grandchildren would keep him young, he had moved to Winchester to spend his final months with his oldest daughter and her family. But every time Sam made the trip north to visit, he had seen that Newt was failing.
The call to Newt’s bedside wasn’t a surprise, but Sam was sorry it had come so swiftly. He had prayed that Newt would have more years. Like so many of his prayers, this one hadn’t been answered the way he hoped.
He found his way to the appropriate floor and through the rabbit warren of corridors to Newt’s room. Several people stood outside. He recognized Newt’s daughter Gloria and her husband, and greeted them before he shook hands with some of Newt’s more distant relatives. Newt’s youngest daughter and only son were inside with their father.
Gloria, whose thin face was streaked with tears, looked shaken but resolute. “Last week he refused further treatment. He says he’s ready to die.”
Sam took her hand. “How do you feel about this?”
“He knows what he wants. It would be different if the doctors could really help him. But he’s in pain, and anything else they can do will just prolong it. It’s only…it’s hard to let him go.”
“Newt’s always had good judgment. I think he must have passed that on to you.”
Gloria reached for a tissue in her pocket. She was a striking brunette, but the past months had added worry lines where none had been before. “I know letting him go is the right thing, but it’s good to hear it from an impartial observer.”
“I’m not impartial. I count him among my friends.”
“He feels the same way. I’m so glad you could get here. The hospital chaplain prayed with him, but I know Daddy wanted to see you one more time.”
“He wants to be buried in the church cemetery. Did he tell you?”
She wiped her eyes. “We’ll do the funeral there.”
The door opened, and Newt’s other children came into the hallway. Both were obviously exhausted.
Newt’s son looked much as his father probably had at the same age, tall and scholarly. He shook Sam’s hand. “He’s resting, but you go in and wait until he opens his eyes. He asked if you were here.”
“What does the doctor say?”
“That we should say our goodbyes while we can.”
“Has everyone had a chance to see him?”
“A few old friends are on their way.”
“Then I’ll wait inside.” Sam gave Newt’s youngest daughter a quick hug. Of all his children, she looked the most upset.
Inside, Sam saw that Newt’s bed was one of two, but the other was empty. He hoped it remained that way until Newt was gone. He was relieved to see there were no machines regulating the last hours of his friend’s life. Newt had an IV in his right arm and nothing more. He was not thrashing or moaning. Sam thought he was probably deeply sedated.
He perched on the chair at Newt’s bedside and took his hand. Then he prayed silently that Newt’s death would be easy and his family comforted by the knowledge he was a good man who had led a good life.
Ten minutes passed before Newt opened his eyes. At first he seemed confused, but after Sam spoke to him a while, he focused.
“Sam?”
“I’m here. I’ve been praying for you.”
“You’re putting in a good word…or two?”
Sam managed a little laugh. “Not much need for it, but every little bit helps.”
“I had…a good run.”
“So you did. A very good one. Fine man, fine family, upstanding member of the church and community. I guess your work is finished.”
“You’ll check on my kids? Give them a call down the road…a piece?”
“I’ll tell them you insisted.”
“I’m not dying right yet. Not quite.”
“You’ve got it planned?”
“I…” Newt was silent for a little while, and Sam thought he might have drifted off again, but when he tried to release Newt’s hand, the old man opened his eyes.
“Jenkins…causing trouble.”
Sam couldn’t have been more surprised if Newt had just come back with eyewitness reports of heavenly hosts. “George? Why are you thinking about him?”
“Called last week. Calling all over.” Newt licked his lips. “Wants you fired. Trying his darnedest.”
“This is not something you should be worried about now.”
“You’ll watch out?”
“I promise.” Sam was deeply touched that in the last hours of his life, Newt was concerned for him. “It’s a good church with good people, Newt. You helped make it that way. That doesn’t mean there’s not an occasional snake in the grass, but I promise I’ll be careful where I step. Maybe I can sit down with George and have a real dialogue.”
“I didn’t know you believed…in miracles.”
Sam squeezed Newt’s hand. “What can I do for you, friend?”
“Will you say a prayer while I’m awake? I want to hear this one.”
On the way back to Adoncia’s house, Elisa took several detours. Having a car again was a heady experience. She hadn’t been able to fully explore the area where she lived and worked, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, she took full advantage. Like one of the many sightseers who came through on their way to and from Skyline Drive, she turned down unfamiliar roads, examining farms and the occasional family business that lay off the beaten path. Kennels and country veterinarians, eggs and handicrafts for sale, vineyards and nurseries.
The vineyards and nurseries interested her most. She knew men from Ella Lane often did day work in the surrounding area. They lined up early in the morning at certain locations, where they were chosen for assignments based on previous work they’d done, the breadth of their shoulders or simply their place in line. Sometimes they were paid under the table; sometimes checks were cut. Some employers paid fairly; some took advantage of the slow economy. Although the system was flawed and sometimes illegal, men who would not work otherwise were in no position to complain.
Near Woodstock, on a scenic side road, she slowed at the sign for Jenkins Landscaping. Diego had mentioned this as one of the places men often went to be hired by the hour. Now she realized the business belonged to George Jenkins, the man she had poured into the front seat of a pickup with this same logo so his son could take him home.
Diego himself had often worked here until he found a steadier job waterproofing basements. In the winter, Jenkins Landscaping employees plowed and removed snow and took down or pruned trees; in the summer, they mowed lawns and planted trees and shrubs. The amount of temporary help Jenkins needed each day depended on the weather and the demand for his services.
Since it was Sunday, no one was working or waiting outside, although several small dump trucks piled high with mulch waited in the driveway. She wondered how badly Jenkins’ head had ached Thursday morning, and if Leon had been forced to bear the brunt of his father’s bad temper.
She stopped once at a service station just outside Woodstock and parked beside a telephone booth she had used before. No one was nearby, exactly the condition she’d hoped for. She inserted the coins she’d gathered for the phone call and dialed a familiar number. When a woman answered, she spoke without preamble.
“It’s Elisa.”
She waited, swallowed disappointment, nodded as if the woman at the other end could see her. “Okay. I’ll talk to you again.” She hung up and stood a while staring across the street at a cow in a field who seemed to feel the phone booth needed to be watched.
She hoped only the cow found it so promising.
By the time she got to Adoncia’s, she was ready to rest, although with Fernando and Maria at home, that was probably not an option. She had not seen Adoncia since leaving with Sam yesterday. The family had gone on their outing with Diego and returned late, and they were already gone when Elisa, who tried to stay out of their way as they prepared for the day, got out of bed.
Now, as expected, when she walked through the door, she was tackled by both children.
“They are spinning like pinwheels,” Adoncia said. “We just got home. Nana Garcia fed them nothing but sugar all day.”
Elisa stooped and hugged them both. “Did you have a good day at work?” she asked her friend.
“If hacking chickens in pieces can be good work.” Adoncia, who looked exhausted, motioned toward the bathroom. “Will you watch them while I shower?”
“Of course.” Adoncia always took a shower when she got home to scrub away the smell of the poultry factory. The job was tiring and dangerous. The fast-moving line, sharp instruments and repetitive motion meant that many careers in poultry processing were short-lived.
Elisa played with the children until her friend came out of the bathroom looking a bit more refreshed. Adoncia fell to the sofa and towel-dried her hair. Fernando crawled up on her lap and laid his head against her chest.
“You had fun with Diego yesterday?” Elisa asked.
“We ate at a restaurant, went to a movie. The children were very good. Now, did you get the job? Is that why the minister was here yesterday?
¡Qué cuero de hombre!”
Elisa smiled at the description. Sam
was
remarkably easy to look at, and of course Adoncia had not failed to notice. “I’ll start training in the morning.”
“But you work at Shadyside tonight, don’t you? When will you sleep?”
“I won’t. But most of the time that won’t be a problem. Once I’m trained, I’ll have Mondays and Tuesdays off at the church, so my Monday night shift at the home won’t compete. And I’ll just have to sleep Friday afternoon after I’ve done whatever is needed at the church.”
“You think you can sleep here, with the children screaming?”
The lead-in was too good to waste. “Donchita, I’ve found a new place to live, with a woman in the church who needs a companion. She needs
me;
you need my room.” She held back her friend’s interruption with her hands. “It’s perfect. And now I have a car to drive, part of my pay for the job at the church.”
“You don’t have to leave. You know you don’t.”
“It’s time I did. Diego wants to move in. You want to marry him.” She watched Adoncia’s expression change. “Don’t you?”
“No, I decided today. He can move in, yes. That I want. But until we can agree about children, I won’t marry him. We’ll live in sin.” She said the last without concern.
“And you’ll practice birth control?”
Adoncia grimaced. “No pills. I won’t take them.”
Elisa knew that Adoncia’s chances of getting Diego to use a condom were about the same as getting him to run for president. “You know, not marrying him isn’t going to keep his sperm from having their own little party.”
“There are other ways.”
Elisa wondered how much reliable information Adoncia knew. This was the friend, after all, who had once rubbed Fernando with an egg to protect him from the
mal de ojo,
or evil eye, of a neighbor. Adoncia was extremely bright, but she covered her bases.
“I won’t have another baby so soon after Nando,” Adoncia said, almost as if she were practicing what she would say to Diego.
Elisa tried to sound casual. “My sister protects herself the way the church suggests. She has only the two children she wanted.”
“Do you know what she does?”
“Her husband wouldn’t approve, although he’s happy enough to have only two children to provide for. So she finds an excuse each month not to make love when she’s fertile.”
“And her husband agrees?”
“It’s always a very good excuse.”
Adoncia laughed. “And how does she know when to be careful?”
“Her periods are regular.” Elisa paused. “Are yours?”
“Like the sun and the moon.”
“Good. Here’s what she told me.” Elisa gave a short explanation of cycles, temperature and ovulation prediction kits. “And once you’ve calculated when you are most likely to be fertile, you don’t have sex five days before and five days afterward.”
“Ten days? Ten whole days?”
“If you want to be very careful and not take chances.”
“Diego will know.”
“I think my sister’s husband knows, as well. But he doesn’t mind.” Unfortunately, Elisa was afraid that Diego was going to mind very much, even if he and Adoncia weren’t yet married.
Adoncia sounded worried. “It will take work.”
“It would be less work to use another more reliable method.”