Bridge to Haven (60 page)

“And you’re the most cantankerous patient I’ve ever had.” Frieda winked at Abra.

Mitzi glowered. “Would you kindly roll me up so I’m not laid out like a corpse?”

Frieda laughed. The two needled each other as Frieda cranked the handle at the end of the bed. Mitzi raised a hand when she was in a sitting position. “Whoa! That’ll do it, unless you want me touching my toes and kissing my knees.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She headed for the kitchen. “I’ll fix you some tea and your guest some cocoa.”

Mitzi gave Abra a stern look. “So. You took off with Romeo and ended up with King Lear.” When Abra dipped her chin, Mitzi raised it, her gaze full of tenderness. “Don’t worry, sweetie pie. I’m not going to beat you up about it. I think you’ve probably done more than enough of that on your own time. I don’t want to waste mine.” She gripped Abra’s hand firmly. “It’s a new day the Lord has made. What do you plan to do with it?”

“Finish high school, get a job, and try to rebuild the bridges I burned.”

“Plenty of people willing to help with that.”

“So I’ve discovered.”

“Ah, the girl is growing up.” Mitzi started coughing. She let go of Abra’s hand, covering her mouth with one hand and waving at a box of tissue with the other. Abra pulled out two or three and handed them to her. Mitzi kept coughing and fighting for breath. Frieda appeared and took over, encouraging Mitzi to get the stuff out of her lungs. She braced Mitzi and rubbed her back, then took the tissues and deposited them in a covered waste bin.

Mitzi leaned back, pale and weak. “I had pneumonia. Just can’t seem to bounce back.”

“Takes time, Mitzi.” Frieda picked up a stethoscope and put in the earpieces before listening to Mitzi’s chest.

“Is there a heart in there?”

“Stop talking. I’m trying to find it.” She gave Mitzi a teasing smirk. “There it is.”

“Now that you know I’m alive, how about that tea?”

“In a minute.”

Clearly the two women had been through this drill before. Frieda removed the stethoscope and picked up a clipboard with a pen tied to it. She jotted a few notes. “Steady improvement.” She went back into the kitchen.

Abra sat on the edge of the bed again. “You look exhausted, Mitzi.”

“All that coughing and breathing does take more than phlegm out of me.”

Frieda delivered tea and cocoa and a plate of homemade macaroons, and said she was going to be in the kitchen for a while getting dinner started.

“She’s trying to fatten me up.”

“Well, please let her.”

“Don’t you start in on me.” Mitzi picked up a macaroon. “Now, what about your music?”

Abra shrugged. “I’ve probably forgotten everything you ever taught me.”

“I doubt that. But let’s see, shall we?” She nodded toward the piano. “Play me ‘In the Sweet By and By.’”

Abra winced. “Can I finish my cocoa and cookies first?” She’d always associated that hymn with Marianne Freeman’s memorial service.

“Make it fast. I’m not getting any younger.” Mitzi sucked macaroon crumbs off her fingers with gusto. “I’m making a list of songs I want played at my funeral.”

Abra barely managed to swallow. “That’s not funny!”

Mitzi chortled. “Oh, you should see your face!”

“I should dump cocoa on your head!”

“At least you don’t look like you’re here for a viewing. Now get your backside on that bench. It’s been five long years. I want to hear you play again.”

Abra set the mug aside and went to the piano. Positioning the bench, she ran her hands reverently over the keys. She started with scales to warm up, her fingers racing from one end of the keyboard to the other. She played chords and resolutions.

And then the songs came from memory, one after another. “Amazing Grace.” “O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus.” “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise.” “Holy, Holy, Holy.” “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name.” One ran into another with easy transitions. Mitzi’s clock chimed and Abra lifted her hands away from the keyboard.

“I knew you’d never forget, sweetie pie. I counted on it.”

Abra closed the piano, running her hand across the polished wood. “Lines of hymns used to come to me at the oddest times.”

“Probably when God knew you needed them most. Have you thought about writing any music of your own?”

“Me?” Abra laughed. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

Mitzi studied her. “You don’t just look different. You play differently. There’s more Abra coming through those nice long fingers of yours. You should play around and see what comes to you. You never know what’ll happen unless you step out in faith.”

Abra sat on the side of the bed. “What about you, Mitzi? Do you have some original compositions tucked away? Something you poured your heart and soul into?”

Mitzi took Abra’s hand and smiled into her eyes. “Just you, sweetie pie. Just you.”

Joshua called and asked Abra to dinner. When he pulled up, she came out the door in a pretty yellow sundress, her hair now burnished
brown rather than ebony, neatly trimmed into a soft cap that framed her face. He got out of his truck, but she came down the steps and out the gate before he reached the sidewalk. “Wait a minute!”

“What for?” She opened the passenger door and slid in.

Annoyed, Joshua went around and got back into the truck. “Next time, wait until I ring the bell.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what a lady does, and I want to usher you to my chariot like a gentleman.”

She laughed at him. “Oh, just start the truck, Joshua. I can’t wait to go to Bessie’s.”

Joshua turned the ignition key, but his engine was already revving. “I thought I’d take you to the new steak house out on—”

“Oh, no. Please. I haven’t had a good hamburger, fries, and a chocolate shake in ages.”

So much for his plans for a quiet, private dinner in a nice restaurant. Joshua hoped this wasn’t an indication that Abra expected them to go back to being good buddies. He had something more than a platonic relationship in mind.

Bessie beamed when they came in the door. “Well, if you two aren’t a sight for sore eyes! Susan! Look who the cat dragged in!” She seated them in a booth across from the counter and put her hands on her hips. “Do you two need a menu? Or shall I just bring out the usual?”

Abra grinned. “I don’t need a menu.”

Joshua shrugged in defeat.

A little frown flickered across Abra’s face when Bessie left them alone. “I’m glad you called. I haven’t seen you for a while.”

He could have told her the number of days and hours. “Worried I’d forgotten about you?”

“When I didn’t see you in church, I thought you might’ve changed your mind and gone back to Southern California.”

Not a chance of that happening now that she was back in Haven. “You didn’t see me because your family comes to the second service, and I attend the first.”

“Oh.”

Joshua grinned. “I dare you to say it.”

“Say what?”

“You missed me.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Okay. I missed you.”

Joshua kept looking at her. He let his gaze roam leisurely over her face, lingering on her lips, her throat. She swallowed, and he raised his eyes, watching hers dilate. Color rose into her cheeks, and her lips parted. She looked aware, but uncertain. He smiled. “Your hair looks better.”

“Pris—
Mom
took me to Snips and Clips to repair the damage I did. It’s going to be a while before it’s red again, but at least I look a little more like—” she shrugged—“me.”

He hadn’t missed the new reference to Priscilla, but he didn’t want to make a big thing out of it. “What else have you been doing?”

“Peter is going to tutor me so I can pass the GED test. Dorothea Endicott hired me part-time. I start at her shop on Monday, twenty hours a week. What about you?”

“I got my old job back with Jack Wooding. He’s starting a new subdivision on the northeast end of town. When the model homes are up and ready, I’ll take you by to see them.” He didn’t mention the lot or house plans or how soon the house he wanted would be ready.

“I’d like that.”

“How are you and Penny getting along?”

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together. She’s at the house every morning. The baby’s due anytime now. Penny and Rob were arguing about names last night. Paul or Patrick if it’s a boy, Pauline or Paige if it’s a girl.” Abra’s smile held no reservations. “Either way, there will be four
P
s in the pod.”

“And one
A
,” he reminded her.

She laughed. “I could always change my name to Pandora.” Her expression changed. “I’ve been spending time with Mitzi.”

He’d been by for a visit. “She said you’re playing piano again.”

“She wants me to work with Ian Brubaker. She thinks I should write my own music. I don’t know about that. I wish I’d come home sooner. I’ve wasted so much time.”

He watched the emotions flicker and be battened down, then well up again. “You had things to learn, Abra.”

“Oh, Joshua, some things I wish I didn’t know.” She forced a smile when Bessie delivered their hamburgers and fries.

Susan brought their shakes. “It’s good to have you home, Abra.” Abra said it was good to be back. Joshua noticed she didn’t call Haven her home. Susan looked from Abra to him. “Nice to see you, too, Joshua.” Susan left them alone, but glanced their way several times.

Abra picked up the hamburger and took a bite. Her soft moan of pleasure made his pulse jump. He watched her chew, swallow, and take a sip of chocolate shake. She rolled her eyes. “I’m in heaven.” She looked at his plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m having too much fun watching you.”

“Oliver’s are the best. Franklin wouldn’t let me eat hamburgers or french fries. Or drink sodas.” She took another bite, obviously enjoying the meal. “Bad for my skin, too many calories.” She relaxed again and talked, and he was getting a picture of her years in a penthouse with a man who controlled every facet of her life. “I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“Why not?”

“It bothers you.”

He’d tried hard not to show how much. “Nothing you’re telling me changes how I feel about you, Abra.” That’s as much as he would say for now, knowing it would be enough.

They lingered over their hamburgers and then sat in the square.
Abra had already shared the facts with him in her confession; now she shared feelings. He heard things between the lines, things she didn’t even know to say. The hurt went way back to a time when she would’ve been too young to understand or even remember clearly. She needed to talk to Dad.

The clock tower bonged. Abra turned and looked up. “Midnight! I’ve talked your ear off and you’ve hardly said a word.”

“I’ve been listening.” His arm rested on the back of the bench behind her. “You know, if we stay here long enough, we can have breakfast at Bessie’s. Do you have a curfew?”

“Peter—I mean, Dad—knows I’m with you. He wouldn’t worry if we stayed out all night.”

“Nice to know he thinks I’m safe.”

She scooted closer and rested her head against his shoulder. “Thanks for listening, Joshua.” She straightened abruptly. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Seven.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” She stood, taking his hand and pulling him up. “You need to get home so you can get some sleep.”

“Only if you go out with me again tomorrow night, and let me choose the place.”

“If you’d like.”

“We just got started in Agua Dulce.” He took her by the hand. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Ian Brubaker said the best place for Abra’s lessons was at Haven Community Church because the congregation had unanimously agreed to invest in a grand piano. With Ian’s connections, they had purchased a concert-quality Steinway at a bargain price. No one had objections when Ian asked Pastor Zeke and the board of elders for permission to use the instrument for Abra’s lessons.

Ian proved to be as strict as ever, a hard-driving teacher who reminded her in some ways of Franklin. Franklin had been a perfectionist, and he had drilled her until lines of dialogue became confused with reality. Franklin had been lost before he found her, and he had made Lena Scott the center of his life.
And I helped destroy him, Lord. I can’t say I didn’t know what I was doing.