When Mercy Rains (19 page)

“Daddy!”

The happy, childish voice reminded Abigail of her Sandra as a five-year-old greeting Cecil when he returned from his work in the fields. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Cecil amble across the yard, a wide grin on his tanned face, and little Sandra with yellow braids bouncing on her skinny shoulders race to leap into his arms. A square-jawed man approached, and a golden-haired child went running, but reality crowded out the tender remembrance. Cecil was gone. Sandra was grown. And she was a foolish old woman, pining for something that could never be.

Clete caught Jana’s hand, and the corners of his lips even tipped up in a smile as he led her back to the quilt, but deep lines marched across his forehead, speaking of an inner torment. Questions rolled through Abigail’s mind, but she kept them to herself as Clete sank down on the quilt next to his wife.

Tanya handed him a filled plate. “I’m sorry we didn’t wait for you. The children were hungry.”

“It’s all right. I didn’t expect you to wait.” Clete extended one leg off the quilt into the grass and balanced the plate on his thigh. He held a fork in his hand, but he didn’t dip into the food. “By the way, I asked Paul and Danny to join us. I figured we’d have enough to share with them, too.”

Abigail stifled a groan. Wasn’t it enough to bear Suzy’s presence? Did she have to be subjected to the other one from whom she’d stolen something irreplaceable?

Jay waved his fists in the air. “Woohoo! I get to eat with Danny!”

“You won’t have anything left to eat if you don’t settle down,” Tanya chided. “You almost dumped your plate. Please be careful.”

Jay whisked a sheepish look at this mother. “Sorry.” He hunkered over his food.

Alexa frowned at Clete. “Where’s Mom? She needs to eat, too.”

He barely glanced at his niece. “She’ll come when she’s ready.” Clete
appeared to want to say something more, but then he jammed his fork into the potato salad and carried a large bite to his mouth.

Alexa set her plate aside and rose. “I’m going to find her. Sometimes she gets so busy she forgets to eat.” She started around the blanket, but then she stopped. A smile lit her face. “Oh, here she comes. And Mr. Aldrich and his son are with her. I’ll get them some plates.”

Abigail wanted to ignore Suzy, the way she’d been doing all day. But something—maybe her reflections of past days or maybe something undefined—pulled her gaze in the direction of her daughter’s approach. Suzy, the Aldrich boy, and Aldrich himself moved across the thick, greening grass. Soft, early evening sunlight bathed them in a gentle glow and combined their shadows into one large undulating form. The boy, who walked between them, was jabbering, his hands flying in wild gestures, his face turning to his father and then to Suzy. The adults laughed softly, and the man curled his hand around his son’s neck while sending a smile at Suzy.

Abigail’s breath caught in her throat as an idea formed. She’d thought it impossible to regain what she’d lost. But might there be a way to redeem at least some of her former happiness? She’d sent Suzy away from the one she’d claimed to love. If she brought them together again, might some of this heavy burden of guilt be lifted?

Although she’d vowed to scare Suzy back to Indiana as quickly as possible, a second plan now took shape in her mind. Suzy had taken a two-month leave of absence. Six weeks still remained of that time. Six weeks to rekindle what Paul and Suzy had once felt for each other. Six weeks to restore a portion of what she’d stolen from them.

Paul and Danny dropped onto the quilt next to Jay while Suzy sat next to Alexa. On opposite sides from each other. Abigail tightened her jaw in frustration. Six weeks … would it be enough? She’d better start
now
.

“Mr. Aldrich?”

Abigail didn’t realize she’d screeched his name until all conversation around the quilt stopped and everyone stared at her in surprise. Heat filled her face,
but she covered her embarrassment with a frown and a harsh command. “I was speaking to Mr. Aldrich only. The rest of you pay attention to your plates.”

A grin toyed on the edges of the carpenter’s mouth while the others ducked their heads and flicked glances at one another from the corners of their eyes. Satisfied she’d cowed them, she addressed Paul again.

“I don’t know what Clete is paying you to work out here, but it probably isn’t enough.”

“What? Mother!”

She chose to ignore her son’s disgruntled outburst. “So from now until the work is done, I want you to be our guest for meals on working days and also on Sunday noon. And of course, your son is welcome, too.”

Tanya bounced a panicked look at Abigail. “Mother Zimmerman, tomorrow after service we’re going to Shelley’s. She might need more notice if—”

Abigail waved her hand, dismissing Tanya’s concern. “Shelley always fixes enough for a small army. There will be plenty. If you’re worried about it, Alexa here can always bake up a couple of cakes to take along, right, Alexa?”

She gave a slow nod, her expression wary. “Well, sure, Grandmother, if that’s what you want.”

“Good.” Abigail smiled at Mr. Aldrich, feeling smug. “You just consider my family your family for the duration of your job.”
And possibly beyond …
 She plucked a piece of meat from the half-eaten chicken wing and stuck it in her mouth, hoping the others would follow her example and return to eating. After a few uncertain moments, they picked up their forks and soon conversation resumed, although a bit more restrained than it had been prior to her proclamation.

Abigail, pleased with herself, found a giggle threatening. The desire took her by surprise. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt so giddy and hopeful. Surely she’d stumbled upon the perfect means of making restitution for the harm she’d inflicted on Suzy, Paul, and their daughters so many years ago … and at the same time, restoring her own happiness.

Paul

He shouldn’t have come. Paul leaned into the sofa cushions and cringed as Shelley slapped two more plates on the table. He couldn’t recall ever feeling as out of place as he did at this moment. Her husband, Harper, had welcomed Paul and Danny exuberantly, giving no indication he viewed them as an intrusion, but Shelley’s actions screamed otherwise. Yep, he should have refused Mrs. Zimmerman’s bold invitation. Everyone in the fellowship knew not to disrupt Shelley Unruh’s regimented schedule.

The women—except for Mrs. Zimmerman, of course—buzzed back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room like bees zipping between a flower bed and the hive. They carried bowls of vegetables and salads, platters of ham and baked pork chops, baskets of rolls, and so many relish plates Paul lost count.

Danny sat as still as a mouse beside him, his wide eyes watching as the center of the extended table became crowded with the bounty of food. Was Danny thinking of Sundays when he was small, when Karina was alive and healthy and able to host dinners in their home?

Back before Karina got sick, they’d enjoyed Sundays with lots of food and lots of guests. Paul had bantered with the men in the living room, just as Clete did now with his brothers-in-law, while Karina and the women prepared the table and the children chased in and out, earning reprimands from every direction. Although Shelley’s behavior raised a prickle of unease, the remembrances were sweet. And the smells drifting from the dining room were wonderful. His stomach growled in anticipation. He wanted to enjoy the meal, to fellowship with this big, boisterous family. But he wouldn’t linger. As soon as they’d finished eating, he’d leave.

Finally Shelley stepped into the wide doorway and sent an unsmiling look at her husband. “Harper, we need the piano bench. Everyone, gather around. Hurry now before the food is cold.”

The men leaped to action as if given an order from an army sergeant. Clete pushed Mrs. Zimmerman’s chair to the table while the others all slid into chairs without a moment’s pause. Paul, his hand on Danny’s shoulder, waited until the others were settled so he didn’t accidentally take someone else’s assigned spot.

Harper carried in the piano bench and placed it at the end of the table. Shelley pointed at the leather-upholstered bench. “Paul and Danny, have a seat.”

“Shelley …” Harper grimaced. “They aren’t going to fit on that thing together.”

“Where else can I put them? We’ve used up everything including the rickety folding chairs putting everyone else around the table.” Shelley lowered her voice to a raspy whisper, but it still carried clearly across the room.

Mrs. Zimmerman spoke up. “Put Ruby and Pearl on the bench. They’re small enough to fit.”

Shelley scowled. “I have Ruby and Pearl near me so I can help them with their plates.”

“I’m right here close. I’ll help them.”

A collective, startled gasp rose from half of the adults. Paul gawked in surprise at Mrs. Zimmerman, too. Normally she was telling the youngsters to go somewhere else—they were grating on her nerves.

“Ruby and Pearl, come sit by Grandma,” Mrs. Zimmerman went on, seemingly oblivious to Shelley’s seething and the others’ shock. “Shelley, you can sit there next to Harper now, and Danny and Paul can take the remaining two chairs. Danny, sit next to Mrs. Unruh so she and your father aren’t bumping elbows. She’s left-handed and tends to swing her elbow out too far sometimes.”

Harper coughed—if Paul wasn’t mistaken, the man was covering up a laugh. Shelley set her lips in a tight line and glared at her mother for several tense seconds while the people around the table from Sandra and Derek’s three-year-old son all the way up to Clete sat like stone posts, waiting.

Then Harper moved to the chairs where his twins perched side by side. “C’mon, girls, go sit by your grandmother. Paul, Danny, have a seat.”

The girls, Danny, and Paul followed Harper’s directions while Shelley remained rooted in place, irritation pulsating from her stiff frame and steely expression. Harper took his wife by the elbow and guided her to the empty chairs at the head of the table. He seated her in one, his hand resting briefly on her shoulder in silent communication, before sliding into the last open chair. A stiff smile formed on his lips. “Shelley, do you want me to say grace, or should we ask our guest?”

She shrugged, her movement jerky. “Whatever you prefer.”

Harper’s smile seemed a bit more relaxed when he turned it on Paul. “Do you mind?”

Although right then Paul would have rather been burned at a stake than deliver a prayer with Shelley listening, he said, “Not at all.”

Without a word of instruction, the Zimmerman family members joined hands. Danny grabbed his father’s right hand, and Paul automatically reached for the hand of the person on his left. And he found himself—for the first time since he was eighteen years old—holding hands with Suzy Zimmerman.

Abigail

It was improper and even irreverent to keep one’s eyes open during a prayer, but Abigail remained wide-eyed and watchful as Paul Aldrich delivered a prayer of gratitude. She’d inwardly cheered the serendipitous seating arrangement that put Paul and Suzy next to each other. When they linked hands, she’d hoped for some glimmer of reaction—of rekindling—between her daughter and her one-time beau, but to her disappointment the pair only seemed uncomfortable. A worry struck. Had too much time passed for them to remember the deep affection they’d shared?

“Amen.”

As bowls and platters were passed around the table and conversation began to flow, Abigail contemplated how to ignite the old spark. She recalled some of the activities Suzy and Paul enjoyed with the other young people in the community, but she couldn’t just blurt out a random topic that held significance only to the two of them. It had to occur naturally. So she cut up slices of ham for Ruby and Pearl, poured gravy over their potatoes, and buttered their rolls, all the while keeping her ear tuned for an opportunity to interject some snippet that would take Suzy and Paul back to the days of courtship.

After waiting nearly fifteen minutes, she nearly wiggled out of her wheelchair in delight when Sandra created an opening. “Derek and I took Ian fishing at Heidebrecht’s pond yesterday, and Ian caught his first fish—a little sunfish.”