“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 Ps 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 h
e 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.
Things had been going well until today. She couldn’t concentrate, kept fumbling notes and then having trouble finding her place to start again. Frustrated, she raised her hands, fighting the urge to pound her fists on the keys. It wasn’t the piano’s fault she couldn’t make her fingers work today.
Ian put a firm hand on her shoulder. “Enough for today. It’ll take time to get you back to where you were. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
Abra gathered the sheets of music. Instead of walking home, she went to the church office, where Irene Farley greeted her with a hug before peeking into Pastor Zeke’s office. “Go on in. I have to step out for a while.”
Pastor Zeke came around his desk and embraced her. He rubbed his chin gently on the top of her head before releasing her and gesturing to a chair while he took the other, facing her. “I was going to come into the sanctuary and listen to you play. You’re finished with your lesson already?”
“Yes. And a good thing you didn’t listen. I couldn’t seem to play anything without making a dozen mistakes.” She chewed on her lower lip.
“Something on your mind?”
Something had been on her mind for a very long time, a wound that had never healed. “I have to ask you a question.”
“You can ask me anything.”
She had the strangest feeling he knew what she would ask. But even now that the moment had come, she wasn’t sure she could get the words past the heartache, past the constriction tightening her throat. “And please,” she begged, “tell me the truth this time.” She saw hurt flicker in his eyes at that.
“I always have, Abra.”
Had he? Maybe he didn’t even realize. She raised her eyes and looked into his. “Did you blame me for Mama Marianne’s death?” He looked surprised, then distressed. “Don’t answer until you think about it. Please.”
He leaned back, closing his eyes. He sat so long, Abra wondered if she should go. She was ready to rise when he let out a soft sigh and spoke bleakly. “Not consciously.”
He looked into her eyes, hiding nothing. “Though I can see how you might have felt that way. I was so caught up in my own grief, I had trouble thinking of anyone’s needs other than my own.”
He leaned forward, hands loosely clasped between his knees, his gaze fixed upon her. “The greatest trial of my life had to do with you. I didn’t want to give you up. Then God made it clear that’s what He required of me. I was called away at all hours of the day and night, and Joshua was just a boy. I couldn’t leave him responsible. Once before I had rejected God’s plan, and then had to face the cost.”
“You tried to explain it to me.”
“Yes, but what can a child of five understand?” His eyes glistened. “I know I hurt you, but I have more to confess, Abra.”
Hands clenched in her lap, Abra waited.
“When I found you and saved you, I loved you as though you were my own flesh and blood. It wasn’t just Marianne who wanted to take you home and make you part of our family. I knew we shouldn’t. Marianne had rheumatic fever when she was a child and it weakened her heart. Giving birth to Joshua took a great toll, and the doctor advised us against having any more children. But she’d always dreamed of having a little girl. You were the answer to all her prayers, and an unexpected gift to me, too.”
He leaned back slowly, looking weary. “Had I been stronger—or less selfish—I would have stood firm. We both knew the risk, but I wanted her to be happy. Since then, I have often wished that we had given you to Peter and Priscilla in the first place.”
“What do you mean, in the first place?”
“Peter and Priscilla came to the hospital right after I’d found you. They wanted to adopt you. I didn’t have the heart or courage to take you from Marianne’s arms.”
“They wanted me?”
“Oh, yes. Right from the beginning, Abra. I didn’t think about the possible ramifications of my decision until Marianne died and I faced the truth. I couldn’t take proper care of you by myself. I didn’t have the money to hire someone to watch over you. And I was gone so often. You were barely five and grieving for the only mother you’d ever known, and I couldn’t be there for you. Peter and Priscilla were so helpful with you after Marianne died—Penny already loved you like a sister—and I knew what God wanted. It broke my heart to take you to their house and leave you there. I saw that you didn’t understand. I heard how you withdrew. You weren’t the same child after that. I tried to make it easier on you by coming by as often as I could. I kept hoping you would make the transition. Peter finally had to ask me to stay away. My frequent visits were only making everything worse.” His mouth curved in a sad smile. “How could you bond with them if I was always around? I realized my selfishness and stayed away.”
Pieces of the past came together. “That’s why we went to another church.”
“Yes. We all agreed that would be best.” Pastor Zeke shook his head, his expression filled with regret. “Or hoped it would be. It helped Penny become more outgoing, but you closed yourself off even more. Every change seemed to do more harm than good. You strove to be perfect, to please everyone. It hurt to watch. I felt helpless. All I could do was pray. There hasn’t been a day in your life when I haven’t prayed for you, not once, but many times.”
She felt the tight fist of her heart opening wide to him. “I saw you standing at the gate, night after night. I wanted you to come and ring the bell and take me home.”
His eyes filled. “You were home, Abra. You are home.” He held his hands out, palms up. “I ask for your forgiveness.”
She put her hands in his. “As you have forgiven me, so I forgive you.” She remembered how much he had grieved over Marianne, and knew in the years that followed, her coldness had wounded him even more. “It’s true. Marianne might have lived longer had I not come into your lives?”
“No. I struggled with that thought and blamed myself until God reminded me He knows the number of hairs on our heads. He knows the days He has allotted us. Those five years you spent with us were a joy to Marianne.” He kissed her right hand. “And to me.” He kissed her left. “And Joshua.” When he raised his head, his expression softened with an expectant smile. “God holds the future in His hands.” He put her hands together between his. “Any other questions?”
She could breathe again. “Probably, but none come to me right now.” When he let go of her, she stood with a deep sigh. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He put his arm around her shoulders as he walked with her. “My door is always open.”
Turning, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I love you. Daddy.”
“I have not heard those words from you in a very long time.?
?? His eyes grew moist. “I love you, too.”
She opened the door and almost collided with Susan Wells, who stepped back abruptly, her eyes going wide with surprise. She stammered a quick apology. Flustered, she looked past Abra to Pastor Zeke and blushed.
Abra’s brows rose slightly as she brushed off the apology, stepped around Susan, and went out the door. Susan hadn’t just looked surprised. She’d looked guilty. Abra kept walking, a smile tugging at her lips.
So that’s why Pastor Zeke had spent so much time at Bessie’s Corner Café over the years!
Pastor Zeke and Susan. Now that she thought about it, they would make a nice couple.
CHAPTER 19
You can make many plans,
but the Lord’s purpose will prevail.
PROVERBS 19:21
1959
Abra finished her morning shift at Dorothea’s and sat on a bench in the square, soaking in the peace as early spring sunlight descended through the towering redwoods. She lifted her face and felt the caressing warmth. Rising, she walked past the bandstand and crossed the street to Bessie’s. Sometimes Pastor Zeke went there for lunch, and she might be able to sit and talk with him for a while. She hadn’t seen Joshua for a few days and missed him. He said he was working late on a project, but wouldn’t say what it was.
Susan glanced up, looking surprised. “Nice to see you, Abra.”
“And you.” Abra sat at the counter instead of in a booth, wondering again if something was going on between the waitress and Pastor Zeke. Marianne had been gone a long time. Susan was a nice woman, though she’d always been something of an enigma.
Susan gave her a warm smile. “What can I get you?”
“I think I’ll live dangerously and have a root beer float.”
“Seems like you’re usually with Joshua when you come in.” Susan spoke over her shoulder as she scooped vanilla ice cream into a tall glass.
“He’s my best friend.”
Susan pulled a lever, and root beer hissed over the ice cream. She poked a straw into the drink and set it on the counter. “Joshua is a special guy.”