To Thine Own Self Be True (9 page)

He smiled at Lenny and stepped forward with his hand out. “Nick Hathaway,” he said.

Lenny grabbed his hand and shook it. “Lenny Spruce. Nice to meet you.” He looked like he was going to say more, but Lucy gently elbowed him, and he grinned, instead.

“You ready to go?” I asked Nick.

“Yup.”

“You know you don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”

“I want to go.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Why don’t we take my car?” Lucy said quickly. “If you don’t mind squishing a bit.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Lenny doesn’t fit too well in your Civic even if he’s the only one in it.”

Lenny grunted. “Fine. I’ll sit in the trunk.”

“You won’t fit in there, either,” Lucy said, handing him the keys. “You drive. I’ll sit in the back with Stella and Tess.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Nick look so good got me back to feeling uncomfortable. At least in the car I wouldn’t have to spend the whole ride avoiding close contact with him.

We pulled into the parking lot at Sellersville Mennonite Church in good time, and made our way through the falling snow to the foyer, where we shook the flakes off our hair and clothes. Nick and I squeezed our coats onto the full coat rack while Lucy hurried toward the fellowship hall to drop off a plate of her candy cane cookies. I took a deep breath, saying a small prayer for Wolf now that I was in the church, and hoping I could get through the evening.

“Thank goodness you’re here.” Zach Granger, my off-and-on fourteen-year-old farm helper, appeared at my side, grabbing my elbow. “Grandma’s been asking every two seconds if you made it yet. You’d think the service would be canceled if you didn’t come.”

I sighed. Ma never lost an opportunity to get me to church, and she knew the special services were her best bet. The Christmas Eve one had always been my favorite, since it didn’t start till nine, after milking was done. Little did she know how close I’d come to skipping it that night.

Zach stopped short at the sight of Nick, looking from his face to mine.

“Hi, Zach,” Nick said. “Don’t know if you remember me. I worked for Stella a few days this summer. Name’s Nick.”

“Sure. I remember.” Zach’s body was tight with tension. “You’re back?”

Nick smiled. “Just visiting for a few days.”

“So, Ma have seats saved for us?” I asked Zach.

“Uh, yeah. Come on.” Zach walked toward the sanctuary, the five of us following, receiving small white candles from the usher as we entered. I only had to take one step inside to see why Zach was acting so bizarre.

Abe Granger was sitting next to Ma.

Oh, damn. I’d completely forgotten about calling him back to set up a time to see him, and now here he was, and Nick was with me. Never mind that Abe and I had decided several months ago to be “just friends,” I still felt awkward as hell.

Nick stopped beside me, silent. He recognized Abe, I was sure, but had no way of knowing how I felt about him. As far as Nick knew, I could’ve still been struggling to figure out if Abe was the one for me. I took a deep breath.

“Stella,” Lucy whispered behind me. “People are staring.”

I forced my feet to move and by-passed Zach to slide in beside Ma. Nick sat next to me while Lucy, Lenny, and Tess scooted into the row behind us, with Zach and his family.

“Hi, Ma,” I said quietly.

She patted my knee. “Glad you’re here.”

I hesitated, closing my eyes for a moment, then leaned forward and looked across her. “Hey, Abe.”

He was already looking at me, and from a flick of his eyes, I knew he’d noticed Nick. He smiled, and my heart felt a bit lighter. Not much, but a little.

The sanctuary was beautiful and serene, lit only with candles—on the window sills, the piano, the railings, and, of course, the advent wreath. Only the thick white candle in the middle of the wreath remained to be lit. I couldn’t help but think about where Wolf was that night. Most likely somewhere far, far from the soothing atmosphere of candles and the spirit of Christmas. Unless, of course, he was with Mandy.

The service was a quiet affair, with Isaiah’s prophetic passages and the New Testament Christmas story interspersed with carols, sung mostly from memory. The unaccompanied singing wrapped around me in the worshipful atmosphere, and I almost forgot the events of the last few days, as well as who was sitting next to me, until we had to open the hymnal for a song and my finger touched Nick’s. I quickly withdrew my hand, and he held the book open to “’Twas in the Moon of Wintertime” while I attempted to clear the frog from my throat.

We soon reached the part in the service for the lighting of the Christ candle, and I watched as Vera Longacre, the oldest member of the congregation, and her oldest great-grandchild, Liam, together held a flame to the white candle. The wick hissed as it lighted, and burned brightly. Vera and Liam each took a candle that lay on the table, lit it from the Christ candle, and, after Liam made sure his great-grandmother negotiated the stairs safely, went to opposite sides of the congregation. Liam was on our side, and stopped at the end of each row to light that person’s candle. Nick was soon tipping his candle toward the flame, and once it lit, he turned to me. Meeting my eyes, he held out his candle. I touched the tip of my candle to his, and the flame sputtered and came to life. Ma’s candle lit from mine, and soon the whole room was alive with the rows of light. The song leader began singing “Silent Night.” We all joined in, exiting row by row, until everyone was making their way, candles extinguished, to the fellowship hall.

“What now?” Nick asked quietly.

“Cookies. Homemade ones, mostly. With hot chocolate and coffee.”

“Great.”

Lucy and Lenny walked in front of us toward the refreshment line, Tess in the middle, swinging on their hands and singing “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.”

Nick grinned. “At least it’s about Christmas.”

I nodded. “I’m glad. The other day I heard her singing the ‘Got a Peanut’ song, the one where you end up pretending to puke.”

“Hey, Stella.”

Nick and I turned to find Abe in line behind us. Abe put out his arms and I hesitated, aware of what Nick must’ve been feeling. A flicker in Abe’s eyes reminded me of our renewed status of friendship, and I stepped into him, hugging him back. It felt good.

When Abe released me, he turned to Nick, holding out his hand. “Good to see you again, Nick.”

Nick shook Abe’s hand, his face tentative. “You, too.”

“Abe moved back to New York City in August,” I said.

The tightness around Nick’s eyes relaxed a bit. “Really?”

Abe watched Nick’s face with interest. “I found I missed the urban life. This rural setting turned out not to be for me.” What he wasn’t saying was that he and I had found out we weren’t for each other.

We’d made our way to the dessert table, and I eyed the array. Somehow I just wasn’t hungry for the buffet of sugar and chocolate. I scooted ahead of Abe and Nick toward the end of the table, where I picked up a Styrofoam cup of hot water, and made myself some tea. After throwing away my tea bag, I turned to check out the room. Lucy and Tess were planted at one of the long tables talking animatedly with friends, including representatives of the extensive Granger clan. Lenny sat beside Lucy, his face a mixture of fear and defensiveness. I took the chair beside him.

“It’s okay, Len,” I said. “They only bite during a full moon.”

He winced. “It’s just I’m not used to being in a church. Haven’t really been to one since I was a kid. And even then it wasn’t much.”

The chair beside me remained empty, and I looked around to see where Nick and Abe had landed. They stood toward the back of the room, leaning against the wall, their heads bent toward each other in conversation. I wasn’t sure I liked that.

“So tell me about Wolf and Mandy,” Lenny said.

I recounted for him what happened the day I went for my tattoo, and finished with our visit to Gentleman John.

“Don’t know him,” Lenny said. “That’s probably best, if Rusty and Nick feel that strongly about him.”

An image of another guy flashed through my mind. “You know a guy named Tank?” I asked Lenny. “Otherwise known as Matthew Snyder?”

He scrunched up his forehead. “Can’t think of him. Bart might. Who is he?”

“A guy who was one of the last to see Wolf and Mandy, who’s made a habit of preying on tattoo artists.”

He frowned.

“Hi, Lenny. Stella.” Peter Reinford, the pastor of Sellersville Mennonite, stood behind us, hands resting on our chairs.

“Hey, Pete,” I said.

Lenny nodded.

“I’m very sorry to hear about your friend,” Peter said. “Lucy told me about it.”

I looked down at my tea. “Thanks.”

“Have you heard anything more about the husband?”

I shook my head.

“If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. Do they have a church? A minister I could contact?”

I shrugged. One of the many things I didn’t know about the Moores.

“Hey,” I said, looking up, “you know anything about a guy named Matthew Snyder? Goes by the name Tank? He’s supposedly from a Mennonite family.”

Peter frowned. “Can’t think right off, but I could ask around. Who is he?”

“A guy who could very well have something to do with the Moores’…problems. I don’t know anything else about him except he’s been in jail until last year.”

He nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

“Well,” Peter said, “it’s nice to see you both here tonight. Ma drag you in?”

I smiled. “Not really. But it was a good guess.”

Lenny hooked a thumb toward Lucy. “She’s the one dragged me.”

Pete slapped him on the back. “Glad to hear it.” He moved on to the next group of people, and Lenny let out a big breath, rubbing his forehead.

“You ready to go?” Lucy asked, leaning across Lenny. He rested a hand on her back, and she smiled up at him. “I think Tess is about to hit the wall.”

I held up my cup. “Let me finish this.”

“Sure.”

I drained my tea, glancing around to where Abe and Nick were talking. I sat for a moment, watching Nick as he laughed at something Abe was saying. It was disconcerting, but nice, to see him in this familiar place. Nick drank the last of his coffee, and as he turned toward the wastebasket, his eye caught mine. For a long moment we looked at each other, until I broke contact.

“Okay,” I said to my tablemates. “Should we head out?”

I stood up and pushed my chair in, indicating to Nick with a tilt of my chin that we were leaving. He said one last thing to Abe, and they shook hands again. Abe waved to me, and while I wanted to talk with him some more, it just wasn’t the right time.

“Stella!” Peter Reinford came trotting toward me. “I found something out about that man.”

“Already?”

He smiled. “If you have the right resources, it doesn’t take long.” He turned and held a hand out toward an old man, sitting at the end of the far table. “Jonathan Long. Knows most people in the local Mennonite community. Been around a lot longer than most, too. Says you can go over to talk with him, if you want.”

“Great. Thanks.”

He nodded, his lips tight. “Hope it helps.”

“Be right with you,” I said to Lucy.

She smiled. “Take your time. We’re fine.”

Lenny didn’t look so sure.

I made my way across the room toward Mr. Long, squeezing through the folding chairs and trying not to trample the little kids who ran from table to trash can. I finally got to the end of the table and stood in front of the old man.

“Mr. Long?”

He’d been following me the whole way with his eyes, and now he patted the chair next to him. I sat, taking in his thin hair, the folds of skin on his leathery face, and the bright blue eyes sparkling out from sunken sockets.

“Pastor Reinford informs me you can use my help,” he said.

“Sure can. Anything you could tell me about Matthew Snyder’s family or whereabouts is more than I know now.”

He settled back in his chair, his hands relaxed, looped over the head of a cane. “Matthew Snyder’s grandfather was my second cousin. Isaac Snyder. Grew up in Blooming Glen, never moved away. His son, Stan, moved to Dublin, not far, and had seven kids. Matthew was one of the middle ones. Third, I think.”

He reached out a gnarly hand to fumble with his tea. I restrained myself from helping him, even though the cup shook with his effort. The tea made it to his mouth and back without incident, and I let out the breath I was holding.

“Somehow,” Mr. Long continued, “Matthew went bad, started bullying kids already when he was in elementary school. Family about went out of their minds trying to set him straight.”

“And now?”

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there.” He took another sip of tea while I tried not to grind my teeth.

“His poor mother keeps me informed.” He grinned slyly. “Well, I ask to be kept informed. And she let me know when he got out of jail last year. Those years about killed her, having him in prison, although I can’t see how it’s better now he’s out and getting into trouble.”

I glanced up to see Nick leaning against the doors to the foyer. I held up a finger to say I’d be there in a minute, and he nodded, turning and disappearing behind the double doors.

“Do you know where he is now?” I asked. “The cops can’t seem to find him, and his family’s not revealing his whereabouts.”

Long’s eyes crinkled. “Now where does a man go, if he’s not home with his mother at Christmas?”

I understood. Another woman, replacing Mom. “Who is she? And why hasn’t the family told the cops?”

“Name’s Mary Detlor. As for the family not telling, I’d say it has a lot to do with Ms. Detlor herself. It’s kind of the last straw for his folks, and they hate to admit she even exists. You’d understand if you saw her. She isn’t any Sunday School teacher, that’s for sure.”

“And where do I see her?”

He reached again for his tea. “Now that, young lady, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

I squinted at him, not sure if he was being straight with me. He seemed to know everything
else
.

He held up his hand, hitting me in the knee with his cane. “Honest. I’d swear on the Bible if I weren’t a Mennonite.”