Saints Among Us (19 page)

At home that evening, Alice took the bracelet display to the kitchen for Jane to see. Louise was giving a piano lesson with the parlor door open, and Alice could hear a student dutifully hammering out a tune.

“They are beautiful!” Jane ran a gentle finger over them. “And see how professional the handiwork looks. No one will believe twelve- and thirteen-year-old girls made these. These will sell in a heartbeat, Alice.”

“Oh, good. I’ll tell the girls.” Alice pulled out one that had a small tag dangling from it. “They would like to give this one to the raffle.”

“Wow! This is pretty,” Jane said, noting the soft shades of pink and lavender in the design. “Just between you and me, I think the raffle could end up being our biggest moneymaker. We have received some beautiful things.”

“You’re doing such a good job with this, Jane. Aunt Ethel was wise to choose you to head up the committee.”

“Honestly,” said Jane, “I couldn’t have done it without Sylvia and Florence. Sylvia volunteered, of course, but Florence has been such a surprise. She really has pulled out all the stops to find crafters, both to display and to donate.”

“She isn’t about to let Aunt Ethel get all the credit for the success of this show,” Alice said, chuckling. “For once their competitive natures are complementing each other.”

There was a reflective silence in the kitchen, broken by a sigh from Jane. “I do wish Aunt Ethel could see how much she has hurt Louise. I believe she really thinks Louise owes her an apology.”

“But I thought Louise said she did apologize that day.” Alice’s tone was a bit less mild than normal.

“She did, but Aunt Ethel doesn’t recall that. All she remembers is that Louise walked away and would not talk to her. She seems to have conveniently forgotten the hurtful things she said. I know Louise has tried to forgive her, but matters still aren’t right between them.”

Alice sighed. “Oh for heaven’s sake. I’m tempted to put them together in a small room and not let them come out until they are friends again.”

“The idea has merit.” Jane grinned. “But only if I get to watch. And listen.” Then she set aside the bracelet board and covered one of Alice’s hands with her own. “How are you doing? You seem…I don’t know…so sad a lot of the time.”

“I’m not sad…it’s just that…” Alice turned her hand over and clasped Jane’s hand in return, grateful for the small act of comfort. “It’s hard to leap back into one’s life without a care in the world after seeing such suffering. Despite all the hardships, I wonder if I need to be back down there.”

“Have you talked to June?”

Alice shook her head. “She went to visit her son and daughter since she missed Thanksgiving. I think she’s due back this weekend.”

“Maybe you could get together. Or maybe”—Jane’s face lit up’“you should call Shelby, the woman you talked to before you went. I bet she could relate to how you feel.”

Alice regarded her sister in surprise. “That’s a terrific idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I would love to see her.”

“She called here once while you were gone. She laughed when I told her you were staying another week. She said she would still be there if she could be.”

Alice rose quickly and picked up the phone. “I’m going to call her right now.” Then she stopped, a rather sheepish expression crossing her face. “Except that I don’t know what I did with her telephone number.”

“The phone book is beneath the desk,” Jane said helpfully, though she knew full well Alice could find it.

It was silly to be so excited, Alice thought as she looked up Riverly in the telephone book and punched the buttons of Shelby’s number.

The veterinarian’s receptionist called Thursday afternoon to remind Alice not to feed the cocker any breakfast Friday.

Miracle was less than happy when Alice did not appear to notice her hunger pangs the next morning. The little dog followed Alice from room to room, looking woebegone.

During breakfast, Miracle sat hopefully by Alice’s chair for a while. Finally, realizing she was getting nowhere, the cocker spaniel went over to the rug in front of the back door and flopped down with a huge groan.

“What on earth is wrong with that poor dog?” Louise asked.

“She goes in for surgery today,” Alice said, “and she is not allowed to have anything to eat this morning. I feel like a criminal.”

“You’d feel even worse if she faced a nastier fate,” Louise said.

Alice bobbed her head in acknowledgment. “Trust you to put it in perspective.”

“Have you made any progress in looking for a home for her?” Louise looked over at the little dog with an expression that actually appeared to reveal fondness.

“Not that we’re anxious to get rid of her,” Jane said. “She’s really been very pleasant. At times I forget she’s here.”

“I made a flyer concerning her,” Alice said. “Jane, could you help me produce it on the computer so it looks nice?”

“Sure,” Jane said. “We can use Publisher.”

“Of course, I’ll want to wait until after this surgery to see what her prognosis is.”

“If it’s…poor,” Louise said, “what will you do?”

Alice felt a lump rise in her throat. “I’m not sure,” she said. “Any foster home would have to be very special to take her in knowing they might have her only a short time.”

There was a glum silence around the table.

Then Jane said, “If that’s the case, would you have to give her away?”

“It wouldn’t seem right,” Louise said. “If she is not going to live long, Alice, you should keep her here with you, where she is already comfortable and settled in.”

Alice was stunned. “You wouldn’t mind that?”

“Of course not,” Louise and Jane said in unison.

“I don’t know what to say. I promised you I wouldn’t bring any animals home, and I broke my promise. I appreciate your forbearance.”

Jane grinned. “And do you think we believed for one minute that old softhearted Alice would come home from caring for a bunch of rescued animals empty-handed?”

Louise laughed.

Alice felt sheepish. “You know me too well, I suppose.” She glanced back over at the dog. “I did get one bit of good news when the vet called. They took blood and did several tests on her. Everything looked normal for an older animal and she tested negative for heartworm, which is a particularly nasty parasite.”

“How old does the vet think she is?”

“She couldn’t tell me exactly, but she thinks Miracle is between seven and nine or so.”

“So in dog years,” Jane said, “she’s about our age.”

Louise’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed. That’s fitting.”

Alice spent an anxious day wondering how Miracle’s surgery had gone. In late afternoon, the inn’s telephone rang. Jane started to say, “I’ll get it,” but Alice was rushing across the room already.

“Hello?”

“Alice, this is Sallie at Dr. Spence’s office. We won’t have the results of the biopsy for a few days, but I wanted to let you know Miracle did just fine with her surgery.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news. When can I take her home?”

“Why don’t you wait until close to six before you pick her up?” the assistant suggested. “She’s still pretty groggy from the anesthesia, and we’re going to want to get some pain meds into her before she leaves.”

“Will I need to give her more at home?”

“Probably for the first day or so, but you’ll be able to sneak them into her food, I suspect. Is she a good eater?”

Alice laughed. “My sister Jane says her nickname should be Hoover. She inhales her food.”

The girl laughed. “Good. She probably won’t even notice there’s a pill in there!”

The next day, Louise and Alice both helped Jane serve breakfast, because they had a full house over the weekend. But shortly before nine, she said, “I have to excuse myself now and get over to the chapel. Today is the final dress rehearsal for the Lucia pageant.”

“Are you ready?” Jane looked up from the fruit salad on which she was putting the final touches.

“I think so.” Louise smiled. “No one threw up at the last rehearsal, so we got a lot done. Today is just a matter of putting it all together.”

“I can’t wait to see it. I’m planning to make the
Lussekatters
this afternoon. I think it’s a wonderful idea to share a different cultural experience with our congregation.”

“I agree. I am so glad Karin Lindars suggested it. I have enjoyed getting to know her too. Marit, the daughter who is going to be the Lucia, plays piano. Karin asked me if I would consider taking her on as a student.”

“Do you have a space in your schedule?”

“Yes, I can fit her in.” Louise rose. “I will see you after the rehearsal. If you need any help with the saffron buns, I shall be available this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” Jane said. “The recipe looks simple and won’t take very long at all, but I might enlist you to help me decorate boxes for the raffle tickets if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d be happy to help.”

“So would I,” Alice said as she came through the swinging door that led from the kitchen into the dining room. She was carrying stacks of dirty plates in both hands. “Breakfast was a success,” she told her sisters. “Jane, they loved the egg casserole.”

“I did too,” Louise said. “Where did you find that recipe, Jane?”

“In a Lancaster paper. I altered it a little bit, though.”

“And I bet it is better now than the original,” Louise said knowingly.

Chapter Seventeen

S
aturday’s rehearsal was in the sanctuary, where the service would take place the following afternoon. All the children were excited as they donned their white robes before rehearsal. Some of the girls twirled about, setting the robes flying.

“Oh dear,” said Karin, pointing at Abby Waller. “That robe is going to have to be altered. It’s one of the two smallest ones we had and it’s still too long.” Abby was in first grade, but she was the smallest girl in the group.

Karin bustled over to the child and spoke for a moment, then lifted the little girl onto the closest pew and knelt before her. Karin had arrived with long chains of safety pins attached to the front of her sweatshirt. Louise was not sure about the fashion statement that made, but now she saw how practical it was. Karin efficiently turned up the hem of the robe, pinning it in place in just a few minutes so Abby would not trip over it.

One of the Trimbles and the youngest Dawson were using their star wands for swordplay, which Louise stopped with a firm admonishment. Then she gathered the children around. “It’s time to line up. Does everyone remember whom they stand behind?”

Children scurried back and forth as they dashed to find their places in line. When the bustle abated, one child stood off to one side, looking bewildered.

“Who remembers where Bill belongs?” Louise called.

“Up there,” said Delissa. “He’s the line leader.”

However, the little boy hung back, his thumb in his mouth, when Louise placed a hand on his shoulder and urged him into position. “Doan wanna be the line leader,” he said.

“Well, that’s a first,” Karin commented. “Usually they fight over the chance to lead the class.”

Louise knelt before the child. “You get to be the first one to walk in,” she told him. “It’s an important job and I need someone I can count on to be first.”

But Bill shook his head. “Doan wanna.”

“He’s afraid of all the people that are going to be here,” said his cousin.

“Oh.” Louise knew a moment of doubt. This did not bode well.

“Could he trade places with Abby?” Karin was eyeing the children.

Louise eyed the two children. She had lined them up carefully by ascending height…but did it really matter if the first child was a hair taller than the second one? “That is an excellent idea,” she told Karin. “Abby, would you like to lead the procession?” she asked the little girl.

Abby bounced on her toes. Her hair, tied up in two high ponytails, swung wildly. “Yeth!” she said, grinning and displaying two missing front teeth.

“All right.” Louise guided Bill into the line behind Abby. “This will be better,” she told him. “You just follow her, all right?”

He nodded solemnly, the thumb still tucked firmly into his mouth.

“Boys and girls,” Louise said. “When the program begins, I will be up front at the piano. Mrs. Lindars will tell you when to start. Try to keep an arm’s length between you and the boy or girl in front of you.” Immediately, all the children began to hold an arm up, measuring an arm’s length. “Don’t forget to sing as you walk. Who remembers the first song?”

A child’s hand shot into the air. For the next few minutes, Louise reviewed the words to the songs. When she was satisfied, she went to the piano at the front of the room. “Quiet,” she called. “I’m going to start.”

The rehearsal went well, in Louise’s opinion. She considered herself a strict taskmaster, but still she thought the children had done nicely. They were ready for tomorrow.

Later that afternoon, Alice drove to June’s house.

June had returned from her son’s home the previous evening and was enthusiastic when Alice suggested getting together with Shelby. “Oh, it’s good to see you,” June cried as Alice got out of her car. She rushed down her front walk, her short blonde hair flying around her head, and embraced Alice. “Just look at you! All dressed up with your hair washed and a little touch of lip gloss and
real shoes
.”

Alice was laughing. “I never thought I’d see the day when tan slacks and a heavy navy sweater were dressy.”

June indicated the simple skirt and blouse she was wearing beneath her quilted jacket. “I realized this is the first time in almost three weeks I have worn a skirt. It doesn’t feel right,” she confessed.

“I’ve missed you,” Alice said. “I’ve missed camp. I’ve missed all our friends.”

“Me too,” June said. “I’m afraid I bored my children silly talking about Camp Compassion.”

“My sisters have been good listeners,” Alice told her friend, “but I don’t want to challenge their patience.”

“Hello, you two!” Shelby Riverly climbed out of a small sedan she had parked behind Alice’s car.

“Hello,” June and Alice called together.

“Come on in,” June said, and the three women went up the pretty brick walk and into June’s little house. It was not exactly a cottage, but that was what came to Alice’s mind. June had a green thumb, and all spring and summer the house was surrounded by beautiful swaths of colorful flowers. Even now, in early December, she still had some chrysanthemums and ornamental cabbage lending color to the brown landscape. At one side of the yard stood a lovely juniper. On the other a cypress swayed in a gentle breeze.

A wreath of pretty boughs graced her dark-green front door. It bore clusters of dark-red berries and a huge red bow.

June already had done her Christmas decorating inside as well. She had put up an artificial tree and decorated it in a Victorian motif, with dusty pink, shiny glass spheres and tiny ivory crocheted ornaments. Alice made a mental note to mention the Victorian tree to her sisters. Beneath it, an HO-scale train ran in a circle through a little village. The whole set was nestled on fluffy white cotton that gave the appearance of snow.

When Alice complimented her on her energy in having decorated already, June thanked her, then laughed. “Those trains are not for my entertainment. My grandson is crazy about railroads. He says he wants to be an engineer when he grows up. This set belonged to my grandfather, and someday I’ll pass it on to Paulie. Please,” she added, “have a seat. I made us some hot chocolate and Christmas cookies. They’re low-calorie,” she added solemnly, and both Alice and Shelby chuckled.

After the initial flurry of small talk and passing around refreshments, Shelby said, “I have something for you two.” She bent and began digging around in the enormous shoulder bag that Alice recalled from the first time they met. “Joe e-mailed me. He said you mentioned that you rarely use e-mail, and he wanted you to have these. I told him I’d print them out for you.” She handed Alice an envelope that felt too thick and heavy to be a sheet or two of paper, then handed a similar package to June.

Alice opened the flap and drew out the contents. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, Shelby, how thoughtful. Thank you so much.”

“This is going to make me cry.” June was as moved as Alice was.

Joe had sent pictures, which Shelby printed. Alice slowly examined them, touched by the gesture. “Look, June! Here we are trying to put up our tent. Thank heavens Mark was there to help us. And this one was taken at intake one night. Let’s see, it’s the little Yorkie, so it must have been my first night there.”

“Here we are at Bible study,” June added, “and we certainly look a little worse for the wear!”

“I have one of those too,” Alice said. “And look at this.” She shook her head as she pointed to the picture, even though she knew Shelby must have seen them already. “I had no idea someone was taking pictures. This was the day Riley fell off the roof.”

“What? That picture is of Riley? Was he hurt?”

The photo showed Alice kneeling on the ground and bending over someone whose face was obscured by the bush that several of the men were cutting away. She was wrapping his arm, which she recalled doing to stabilize him for transport. “He broke his arm,” Alice told her. “He fell into this bush—which is no longer there—and he was really lucky because it broke his fall. He could have been hurt much worse.” She looked at Shelby and smiled. “By the time we left, he was rushing around like he always does.”

“You know,” Shelby said, “it’s so odd to see people I know in these photos interspersed with so many people I don’t know. It is hard to believe how many volunteers keep arriving.”

“It was quite a revolving door,” June agreed.

“I found it so inspiring,” Alice told them. “How often do you see God’s work in the world in such a concrete way? I hope the camp continues to get more volunteers. I spoke with a woman who seemed as if she might commit to making a trip.” She smiled, reaching over and squeezing Shelby’s hand. “I’m spreading the word, just as you did for me.”

“That’s good,” Shelby said. “I wish I could go back. But I can’t leave my children again. My mother-in-law is a saint, but her health isn’t that great, and I can’t ask her to watch two small children for a week or more.”

“I’m struggling with that feeling too,” Alice told her friends. “Part of me recognizes that I’m needed here, both at the hospital and at the inn. However, another part of me feels compelled to go back. It’s almost as if I don’t quite fit here anymore.”

June smiled sadly. “Exactly. An experience like the one we had alters you forever. The only other people who can understand are others who shared it.”

Shelby nodded, her eyes sympathetic.

It was an enormous relief to Alice to hear someone else voice the feelings with which she had been struggling. “Will it get better?” she asked Shelby. “Will I stop feeling tearful and heartbroken soon? I just can’t seem to stop thinking of it.”

“I can’t answer that. Each of us deals with the feelings in a unique way. I have seen this among the friends I’ve stayed in touch with. But I believe that if you follow the pattern most people do, the compulsion to return will fade in a few weeks. It just takes time to find the ‘old you’ again.”

“Thank you, Shelby,” Alice said. “I’ve needed that reassurance.”

“We absolutely need to get more comfortable using e-mail,” June said to Alice. “Ellen and several other people gave me their e-mail addresses. I don’t know about you, but it would make me feel better to be in contact with them.”

Alice nodded. “I suppose I can manage e-mail. I don’t want to lose touch with Ellen, and I know younger people today don’t write letters anymore.”

“Way to be proactive.” Shelby smiled. “So tell me all about your trip now. I want to hear every little detail.”

The following morning, the sisters walked home for Sunday dinner after the morning service drew to a close. All of their guests had checked out, and no more would arrive until Tuesday.

By suppertime, it was obvious that Louise was somewhat uneasy about that evening’s performance. Jane cooked roast beef accompanied by twice-baked potatoes sprinkled with chopped chives for supper, but Louise barely could eat a bite.

“It’s not like you to be nervous before a performance,” Alice said as they put on their coats before heading over to the chapel shortly before seven.

“It’s not my own performing I worry about!” Louise said with a half laugh. “It’s those two dozen unpredictable little people.”

Jane patted her sister’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’s going to go just fine. You said the dress rehearsal yesterday morning went well.”