Light From Heaven (24 page)
Authors: Jan Karon
She put her head in her hands. “Ugh.”
“Willie gave me the name of the company that insures all the buildings on the place, I’ll call them as soon as their office opens. When they come out,Willie can show them around if I’m not here. And, of course, I’ll need to talk with Hal, let him know...”
“I don’t want to trouble Marge about cleaning the house,” she said. “We’re adults, we need to figure out what to do. It’s all over the place; it’s on everything, even the furniture and windowsills upstairs. And there’s no way I can ask Puny to come out and help do this.”
“Didn’t Marge give you the name of a cleaning service when you talked last time?”
“The Flower Girls!” His wife’s face was instantly brighter. “She said to look in her red phone book.”
Cynthia flew to the bookcase, and hauled the book down. “D, E, F ... Fagan, Flanagan, Flemming ... Flower! Flower Girls, Pansy. What time is it?” She coughed mightily.
“May be a tad early. It’s only six-thirty.”
“Working women are up at six-thirty!” she announced, snatching the handset from the hook.
He had to get to Mitford today. Agnes and Clarence weren’t, after all, some ecclesiastical retail complex in which he might find all that was needed for the Easter service. According to Agnes, she was down to a few candle stubs, and not a drop of communion wine on hand.
He would check Mitford Blossoms for Easter lilies, dash to The Local for wine and candles, then swoop by the yellow house and pick up his Easter vestments.
He made a hasty list and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He also needed to visit Uncle Billy, Esther Bolick, and Louella. He would run up and see Louella after he met with Pauline. He phoned Hope House and asked them to tell Pauline, now their dining room manager, that he hoped to see her before the big push at noon.
Puny and the twins ... that visit would have to wait ’til after Easter.
He rubbed his sandpapered eyes and checked his watch. If he played his cards right, he’d have a half hour to noodle with the Turkey Club, and hit the vending machine for nourishment.
The wind had died down, thanks be to God. But he felt like a heel for running out on his wife. Though they’d cleaned up the floor and wiped off the table, the kitchen was a disaster. Fortunately, her work on the easel had been draped with a cloth that she put on each evening like a cover on a birdcage.
“Don’t worry about me,” she had said. “You have your work to do and I have mine. I’ll manage the inside if you and Willie will take care of the outside.” She sneezed mightily. “Do not, I repeat, do not, expect me to manage a crew of brick masons.”
“You have my word.”
He had wiped her forehead with his handkerchief and made the sign. She signed back, and he gave her a heartfelt, albeit guilt-stricken, hug.
He’d talked to Buck last night; they had prayed together on the phone that Sammy would turn up, safe and sound. Buck said Lon Burtie had been to the Barlowe trailer and looked in the windows. Nothing appeared suspicious.
Lon had asked around about Clyde Barlowe’s whereabouts and a couple of people claimed he’d gone off with Cate Turner, who was Lace Harper’s father and Clyde’s long-time drinking buddy.
In the end, the question was the same: Should the police be notified?
Father Tim, Cynthia, Agnes, and Clarence would be working at the church on Saturday, giving it a complete cleaning, and readying it for Sunday morning. Thus the only time he could get down to Holding with Buck was tomorrow, Friday. They agreed they’d meet at eight o’clock at Lew Boyd’s Exxon, and head down the mountain to the Holding police station.
He and Cynthia had further agreed to have their own Maundy Thursday service this evening in the ash-blasted kitchen—a fitting setting.
As for the paperwork on the adoption/name change, he’d be in touch with his attorney next week, and by the time Dooley came home for the summer, he would walk in the door as a Kavanagh.
Esther wasn’t at home, but he left a note at the patio door, and a box of chocolates that he’d picked up at the pharmacy.
It was a pathetic offering; his heart was wrenched for Gene and Esther, whom he’d known as friends and parishioners for twenty years. He looked at the patio and thought how many steaks had been grilled and song birds fed and geraniums watered, and no one, not even once, thinking of inoperable brain tumors.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
“I think it’s wonderful,” said Pauline Leeper. “I know he’ll feel proud to carry your name.”
“He’ll always spend time with you and Buck and Poo and Jessie when he comes home; you’ll always be his family.”
“Yes, sir.” She took a Kleenex from her uniform pocket and wiped her eyes. “I’ll be lookin’ a mess,” she said, laughing.
He felt awkward and disconsolate. “Thank you for your understanding. You’re a fine and caring soul, Pauline.”
“By th’ grace of God is th’ only way that could happen,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“What you doin’ ’bout Miss Sadie’s money?”
Clearly, he’d been mistaken to think Louella forgetful.
“I’m waiting for the owner of the car to come home so we can talk about it. I can’t search the Plymouth without his permission.”
Louella looked skeptical of this modus operandi, and returned her attention to the box of sugar-free candy he’d toted along.
“What’s that? I cain’t half see. I’m lookin’ for somethin’ wit’ nuts.”
“Nougat.”
“No nougat. What’s that ’un right there?”
“Umm.” He was salivating. “Dark chocolate.”
“Here, honey,” she said, holding forth the box. “Fin’ me somethin’ wit’ nuts.”
He took the sugar-free dark chocolate for himself. Not bad. But not good, either. “What do you think Miss Sadie would have us do with the money if we find it?”
“Give it to th’ Lord!”
“We’ll definitely do that. But do you think she’d like something specific? The Lord’s Chapel roof is perfectly fine, thanks to her. The expansion was paid for long ago. Hope House is running in the black....”
“I think we should pray about it. That’s what Miss Sadie an’ I always do when she givin’ money. I ‘member how we prayed ’bout th’ money she give your boy. Whew, law! When Miss Sadie wrote that down, that was more aughts than I ever seen behind a number! What’s he doin’ with it, anyway?”
“He doesn’t know he has it. I haven’t told him.”
“What you waitin’ for? Th’ creek t’ rise?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Child, I’m glad nobody ever give me a million dollars; it would’ve been my ruination.”
“You think so?”
“This ’un an’ that ’un would have took it off of me like takin’ candy from a baby. No, honey, I never liked to fool with money.”
“Here,” he said. “This whole row has nuts.”
Louella gave him a fond look. “Ever’ time you come t’ see me, I feel like Miss Sadie in th’ room.You an’ her was
close,
honey.”
close,
honey.”
“I dreamed about her the other night.”
“How’d she look?”
“She looked young! I was amazed to see her looking so well!” He remembered the dream as if it had been a visit.
Louella winced.
“What is it?”
“This ol’ shoulder be actin’ up ag‘in. Hurtin’ me all night.”
“Let me have a go at it,” he said.
He got off the low stool where he always sat when he visited, and touched her shoulder. “Here?”
“No, honey, that ain’t th’ place. Move up a little to th’ lef’.... That’s right. On up a little more.”
“Right here?”
“Right there! Oh, mercy, that’s sore as a boil, don’t rub too hard.”
Nurse Herman stuck her head in the door.
“I’m next in line after Miss Louella!” she said, grinning.
He stepped along the hall to Ben Isaac Berman’s comfortable room.
Ben Isaac nearly always kept his door open, and was nearly always listening to classical music. The offering of the moment was definitely Mozart... possibly the Divertimento no. 10 in F Major, but only possibly.
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