“Yes, but mine wasn't the only
surprise arrival.
Darling, tell them
about little Emily.”
But Emily looked into the two
questioning faces and blushed furiously.
“You tell them.
I'm hungry.”
Tucking her head, she emphatically dug her
fork into her pasta.
Stani regaled them with the
story of the previous night, leaving out no detail until the moment they'd
arrived at the farm.
“She was absolutely
heroic, and we learned today that the parents plan to name the baby Emily.
It was a Christmas Eve I'm sure we'll all
remember the rest of our lives.
I was
certain one of us, Jack or Bobby or myself, was going to pass out.
Birth is a very messy business!”
He was relieved when even Emily laughed at
his telling of the drama.
When Angela declared herself
on cleanup, Stani lingered in the kitchen.
He was somehow drawn to this dynamic woman, and sensed having her as an
ally would prove essential to the success of his plan.
Within minutes, the opening strains of Aaron
Copland's Appalachian Spring drifted from the front of the house, announcing
that Lil had presented Emily with her Christmas gift.
“She had a bad night, I take
it?”
Angela's black brows rose with the
question, and she leaned against the counter as if preparing for a lengthy
conversation.
“How did you know?”
Emily had suggested that at times Angela
could be a mind-reader.
“I could see she didn't want
to talk about it.
I knew she was fragile
today, but that explains it.
Not to mention
your being here as well.
She'll be fine,
don't worry.
She calls it her whirlwind,
this little tidal wave of emotion.
Might
as well get used to it, if you have the kind of plans I think you do.”
She was smiling, but the one sharply arched
brow and the gleam in her eyes made Stani feel sure he was being tested.
There would be no hiding, even if he had
wanted to.
Angela expected straight
answers, even without asking direct questions.
“I want her, for always, if
that's what you mean.
She still seems to
think we're too different, too far apart.
She's had such a normal life, and mine's been nothing of the sort.
But we do have things in common, and I think
we understand each other.”
Again the brows went up, and
she fixed him with a questioning glare.
“Is that what she's led you to believe?
That she had some kind of idyllic childhood?”
He stammered just a
little.
“When she talks about her
parents, their life here, yes, I suppose idyllic is the word that comes to
mind.
She's been happy here, and this is
clearly what she wants for the future.”
Angela glanced at a chair near
the table, as if ordering him to sit.
She ran her hands through the length of her hair and twisted it over her
shoulder, gathering her thoughts.
“Stani,
let me tell you a little about Emily's life here, and then you judge for
yourself how normal, as you call it, things really were.”
Still leaning against the counter, she folded
her arms and began to talk.
Stani found
himself mesmerized by the telling of this story she seemed to know so
well.
Her best friend, falling in love
and starting a new life, determined to have a child.
The two people, well past youth, who poured
all their considerable energies into shaping that child in their own
images.
“They weren't just a
family.
They were everything to each
other.
Emily had friends, but her
parents were the most important people in her life.
They were her teachers, her playmates, her
idols.
Lilianne was never strong, but in
the end, when she was so ill, Emily took over, took care of her father, nursed
her mother, kept the house, cooked the meals.
She was barely fifteen, but she understood how things were, how J.D. was
falling apart after Lilianne died, and she stepped in, held everything together
for him.
He tried to go on for Emily's
sake, but after the stroke, she was left without him, too.”
Staring at a point somewhere over his
shoulder, she seemed to picture the way things had been, and for a moment,
Stani could see she was fighting tears.
“There was nothing normal about Emily's upbringing.
She grew up very quickly.
I think she may have even started out as an
old soul, wise even as a child.
She has
her mother's moods, one minute intensely emotional, the next equally calm.
Lilianne was a brilliant musician, a
passionate teacher, and she brought those things to her family as well.
J.D. was more down-to-earth, slower moving,
but he was a true scholar, and he began teaching Emily before she could
talk.
She learned a lot from him that
has helped her stay grounded.
Emily is unique,
a blend of two such different personalities, and she's held together by a
strength that comes largely from her faith in God.”
Her story winding down, Angela turned to the
sink and started the water running, still taking over her shoulder.
“She's accomplished so much on
her own.
But she needs someone to share
her life.
She's been in love with you,
you know, all this time.
She just couldn't
admit it to herself.
I know she has some
notion of staying here, living alone, but don't be discouraged.”
She turned to him with a wistful smile.
“She's not going to send you away, not the
way she feels now.
She can be stubborn,
don't fool yourself.
But she would never
hurt you.
It's against her nature.
Make your plans, Stani.
She'll be there when the time is right.”
Taking a minute to absorb all
he’d heard, Stani sat in silence.
This
picture of Emily painted in such clear strokes by Angela's story made him long
to rush to her, gather her in his arms.
His darling girl, brave and strong, had suffered in spite of loving
parents, had lost the very security they had worked to give her.
She had talked of finding her way out of
depression and grief, but now he saw more clearly how much she had overcome.
At last he looked up to meet Angela's waiting
gaze.
“Thank you.
And I have made my plans.
I just haven't had the opportunity to tell
her about them yet.
You really think
she'll be willing to have me?”
Drying her hands on a towel,
she came to stand over him, a genuinely fond smile in her dark eyes.
“She'll have you, Stani.
Have faith, my dear.
She'll have you.”
She patted his shoulder gently, took off her
apron and went toward the front of the house.
Stani had the distinct impression she had just foretold his future, as
surely as if she’d read his palm or gazed onto a crystal ball.
When he joined them in the
front room, the music and the firelight drew him in.
As he sat down at Emily's feet, he sensed
that she was content, finally at peace after the ups and downs of the past
hours.
A serene little smile lit her
face, and with a sigh, she reached down to touch his hair.
“You two were talking for long time.
Anything I should know about?” she asked softly.
“Nothing at all, except that I
love you more and more each hour.”
“Hours.
They're flying by.
Are you sure you won't stay tonight?”
She slid to the floor, curling beside him,
ignoring Lil's wide eyes fixed on them.
When she had drawn his head down and begun to kiss him with considerable
warmth, they heard the whisper from the other side of the room.
“Mom, maybe we should go
upstairs.
I don't think I can sit here
and watch her do that to him.”
Their eyes met, brimming with
laughter.
“It's okay, Lil,” Stani
assured her, “Emily may do whatever she likes.
She's my Christmas present to myself.”
But they were left alone soon
enough, stretched on the rug beside the fire.
“We've been here before, you know?
But you weren't nearly so responsive then.”
“I'll try to make up for it if
you'll let me.
But not tonight.
We've had a busy day, little girl.
Did you get what you wanted for Christmas
this year?”
“Oh, yes.
Exactly what I wanted.
Which reminds me, I want you to hear my gift
from Lil.
Do you know it?”
She got up and started the record playing.
“Appalachian Spring?
Yes.
An appropriate gift.”
They
listened in silence, nestled in each other's arms, to the musical story of a
country bride and her intended bridegroom.
Late in the piece, a solo clarinet
played a snatch of melody.
“That's it,”
she whispered, “it's called 'Simple Gifts.'
That could be the theme song for my life
here.”
She recited softly, “Tis a gift
to come down where we ought to be.
And
when we find ourselves in the place just right, 'twill be in the valley of love
and delight.'”
She looked up, smiling
into his eyes.
“Isn't that perfect, a
simple life in the valley of love and delight?
It has to be harder to achieve than it sounds, but it's something to
dream of, to work for.”
Before he left that night,
Stani took up the old violin and played the melody, loving the way it sounded
in the room.
And most of all, loving the
look on her face as she listened.
He had
indeed come down in just the right place, a place he might finally call home.
Chapter Forty-six
They had stood together in
church, sung the hymns and said the prayers, their voices blending.
Emily had felt both proud and a little
self-conscious.
In his elegantly
tailored black suit, with his handsome features and long auburn hair, Stani had
attracted the whispered attention of these people who had known her all her
life.
She had worn her best dress, last
year's Christmas dress, wine red wool with white lace at the collar and
cuffs.
She hoped she at least complemented
his good looks.
She told herself it
wasn't that she was vain, but no woman liked to pale in comparison to her man.
As they sat together, she
could sense how intently Stani focused on every word of scripture and on the
message of the sermon.
He had reached
for her hand with a little smile at the words from Colossians describing “love
which binds all things in harmony.”
She
had never shared so intimately in worship with another person.
As their voices joined in the closing prayer
she was filled with a new kind of joyful assurance.
It was one thing to know the comfort of her
own faith, but to see the man she loved finding his way to this longed-for
knowledge was an even greater gift.
After the service, they were
surrounded by those who had heard the news of the Christmas Eve delivery.
Emily wondered if it were not also in some
cases an excuse to get closer to Stani, to shake his hand and let him know that
she was one of them, not as a warning, but a claim of kinship.
He would be the subject of a number of Sunday
dinner conversations, she felt sure.
Stani was gracious and polite to these strangers, but Emily thought he
seemed anxious to leave.
To her
surprise, when they reached the narthex, Pastor Mike greeted him warmly and
they exchanged a few quiet words.
She
was sure she heard Mike say “. . .two, just as we planned.”
“Two?” she asked, taking his
arm as they slowly descended the steps to the sidewalk.
“Two?
Oh, just a little something I have to take
care of tomorrow.
Where did Jack get off
to?
Aren't you starving?”
“Don't change the
subject.
What, at two tomorrow?”