Love Finds You in Hershey, Pennsylvania (34 page)

Sadie wrapped her throw tightly around her, mentally reviewing her dream of the night before and unintentionally wondering if Jasper was watching the sky tonight. She pictured him with her, picking out constellations and wrapping stories around them that had nothing to do with Greek myths. The memory made her smile sadly.

“Penny for your thoughts, sugar?” Belva spoke up.

Sadie sighed, not inclined to admit where her mind had drifted. “It’s just such a beautiful night,” she offered instead.

“That it is, sugar. That it is.” Belva paused. “But are you sure that’s all you’re thinking of, darlin’?”

Sadie loved Belva, but she didn’t appreciate it when she pried. She wasn’t about to admit how much she missed Jasper. Such a thing would have indicated a level of weakness that Sadie wasn’t about to own up to possessing.

“On nights like this, it’s better to
not
think about anything else.” She felt as though this were a sage piece of wisdom. She’d spent many nights this past year thinking on things she had no control over— Dmitri Velichko and his upcoming restaurant…her ineptitude with desserts…Mac’s reappearance…Jasper…. She stifled a sigh and indulged in a moment of feeling very old and wise.

Well, very old at least. She was almost thirty. That was old enough for all life had thrown at her, wasn’t it?

She came to herself after a moment and realized Belva was staring at her. She looked back at her for a moment and then blinked.

“What?”

Belva shook her head, her silvery white hair flashing elegantly in the starlight.

“You really don’t know why I’m here, do you, Sadie? All these weeks, and you still haven’t figured it out.” She looked away, back up at the sky. “Or maybe you haven’t even thought about it.”

Sadie frowned. “You just said you wanted to visit. You haven’t seen us in a while.”

Belva didn’t say anything. Sadie waited but finally realized Belva had no intention of filling her in.

“I don’t understand,” Sadie spoke honestly.

Belva tore her eyes from the magnificence of the night sky and looked at her. “No, sugar, I really don’t think you do.”

Sadie found herself shrinking before Belva’s stare. What had she done now? She didn’t have a clue.

“Have I done something to…to offend you, Belva?” she asked.

Belva gave a most unladylike snort. “Not necessarily, darlin’. ” She and Sadie locked eyes for several moments.

Sadie was desperately trying to discern why Belva was looking at her with that odd glitter in her eyes. After a while, the coldness of it softened until Belva’s stare was filled with nothing more than pity and sadness.

“What day is it today, Sadie?”

“Wednesday,” Sadie immediately offered.

Belva shook her head. “No. What
day
is it?”

“August 5.”

For a minute, Sadie thought Belva was going to shake her. Instead, the older woman simply stared as though Sadie had announced that she’d forgotten which way was up.

And then she remembered.

“August 5,” she repeated.

Belva nodded.

“It’s been five years today since Ned died.”

Something in her chest sank with this realization, and she immediately began thinking about all the things she’d done today. She awoke from another dream about Jasper, fixed Kylie breakfast, ran off to work but spent at least thirty minutes glaring at the remodeling of Dmitri’s restaurant across the street, went through a perfectly normal workday, returned home for dinner and a movie with Kylie and Belva, read Kylie a story, put her to bed, and escaped to the porch to relax.

Had she thought about Ned today? Had she missed him? What was wrong with her? What kind of horrible person was she? Could she sink much lower than this?

Belva’s expression was filled with such pure, undiluted sympathy that Sadie found tears pricking her eyes.

“It’s not that you forgot, sugar. It’s
why
you forgot.”

“I’m a bad person,” Sadie immediately offered.

Belva took her hand. “You’re
not
a bad person, darlin’. But you’re certainly a misguided one, that’s for sure.”

To her horror, Sadie began to cry. She hadn’t meant to break down in front of Belva—she hadn’t done that since the night she’d had to call and give her the news of Ned’s death. But now she found herself wracked by sobs she couldn’t control.

Everything had fallen apart. Everything. And for the first time in her life, she was willing to admit that most of it had been due to her own selfish stubbornness.

She began mumbling explanations, dragging her sins through the mud behind her as she tried to work her way out of the mire. Dmitri Velichko and her wicked judgment of him. Trying to compete with Dmitri and others out of vanity and nothing else. Her near-murder of Aunt Matilda, not to mention sending Dmitri to the hospital at Kylie’s birthday party. Her inability to forgive her father. Her neglect of her daughter. And the icing on the cake she could never make— her rejection of Jasper even after his attempts at reconciliation.

Belva let her sputter and stumble for a while before she disappeared inside and returned some minutes later with a steaming mug of tea.

“No wonder you’re so worked up, sugar,” she lightly chastised. “I couldn’t find a drop of chamomile in the entire house. What would your mother say to that?”

The mention of her mother sent Sadie off into self-recriminations and blubbering once more. Belva soothed and encouraged her to take a sip of tea—Lemon Ginger—to calm herself.

After blowing repeatedly on the top to cool the beverage, she was able to gulp down a swallow. Belva was right. The warmth settled her stomach and caused her to take a few sniffling breaths.

“There,” Belva declared triumphantly. “That’s better. Now why don’t you start from the beginning, sugar—first with this Dmitri character.”

So with a deep breath and another fortifying sip of tea, Sadie did.

By the time she’d finished, Belva had covered them both with another throw against the night wind, and the moon looked down on them from high in its lofty perch. As Sadie wrapped things up with her final description of her and Jasper’s last conversation, Belva drew her near and wrapped an ample, loving arm around her.

“Well, sugar, I’ll certainly say, that explains quite a lot.”

Sadie wiped her nose with a well-shredded tissue. “I’m hopeless, Mama Belva. There’s nothing that can be done for me.”

Belva clucked her tongue in disapproval. “I hardly think you’re beyond redemption, Sadie. After all, look at what humanity has given the good Lord to work with over the years. I don’t think you’re the first lump of clay He’s had to start over and work into something worthwhile. Besides, I think He’s got a pretty good head start on you.”

Sadie scoffed and leaned into Belva’s warmth. It felt good to be wrapped in someone’s arms. It made her feel anchored, safe, loved. It gave her hope, and she began to realize she’d been lacking that important attribute for quite some time.

“I’ve been very proud,” she whispered, to herself as much as to Belva.

The older woman didn’t disagree. “Yes, you have, sugar. But pride can be broken. You just take one step of humility, and you’ll see what I mean.”

“I’ve been selfish too.”

“Start giving to other people. Start small and work your way up to the people you like the least. Like those two old harpies you mentioned—what were their names?”

“Smith and Jones.”

“Not very original. But see if you can get yourself to give something, really
give
something, to those two. It may take some time, but I think you can get there.”

Sadie was silent for a while, thinking things through. “What about Mac? How do I learn to forgive him?”

“Start by letting yourself love him. I know it’s in there, sugar, even though it may be buried a little deep. Let yourself remember the things you’ve always liked about him, and then give him a chance to prove that he’s changed. And maybe try loving yourself a little too. That might just help it all along.”

Sadie absorbed this before Belva continued.

“You can’t have everything, sugar, and sometimes just when you’ve got your hands on what you’ve always wanted, life takes it away and won’t give it back.”

Sadie thought of Ned and how much pain Belva must have been in today. Ned was her youngest, her baby. His death had taken something Belva could never get back. And yet she hadn’t lost faith. She was thankful for her son’s salvation and looked forward to the day she could see him again. She hadn’t resented that Sadie had forgotten the anniversary of his death.

Sadie wondered if she could ever cultivate such grace in herself. Grace like Belva’s. Grace like her mother had possessed. Grace like Mac had learned. Grace like Jasper had tried to teach her.

“I guess you could say,” Sadie reflected ruefully, thinking on what she had lost the past few weeks, “that I’ve gotten my just desserts.”

Belva chuckled, and the vibration of it shook Sadie’s cheek as it rested against her mother-in-law’s shoulder.

“Not hardly, sugar—more like a slice of humble pie. If we always got what we deserved, we wouldn’t have much. That’s where grace comes in.”

“True,” Sadie admitted.

They studied the night sky once more, and Sadie felt the first real peace she’d known in quite some time sneak up on her and fill her with light.

“I’m glad God is so forgiving. And I’m glad He’s got patience, too. I think I’d have given up on me some time ago.”

Belva reached a hand around to pat Sadie’s cheek affectionately. “It’s a good thing,” she agreed, “or He might have gotten so weary of you, He’d have thrown you down Kylie’s volcano.”

Sadie laughed.

“How
did
that Ken lose his leg?” Belva questioned.

Sadie was still laughing softly. “I don’t know, but I’m beginning to suspect that it wasn’t an accident.”

Knowing her granddaughter so well, Belva was inclined to agree. The two women sat in contented silence for some time until Sadie felt her eyelids growing heavy. Soon she’d have to head up to bed. But she wasn’t dreading it as she had been all week. She didn’t think she’d have any confusing dreams tonight.

As fatigue weighed on her eyelids, she sighed with relief. “I’m glad God sent you, Mama Belva.”

Belva kept her eyes on the sky, the green in her gaze glittering with unshed tears. She held Sadie’s hand tightly in hers, warm beneath the weight of the blankets.

“So am I, sugar. So am I.”

Sadie faced the next morning with mixed emotions. A part of her felt cleansed, renewed. Just as she had always viewed autumn, she felt as though she had shed something old and was preparing for the new.

But being armed with this knowledge didn’t make the steps she had to take any easier. She had to swallow her pride, like Belva had said. And that meant she had to stop trying to best Dmitri Velichko. She had to accept him as inevitable competition and let the chips fall where they may. But more than that, she had to apologize to him.

It would be easier if he had acted poorly toward her, she reflected. She had to admit, Dmitri Velichko had been nothing but a gentleman, no matter what she’d done. He had performed with perfect grace. In many ways, she envied that in him. But that was her goal—to start acting with grace. Heaven knew enough had been doled out on her. Now she had to learn how to return the favor.

She went through the motions at the restaurant, barely aware of what she was doing; she was too focused on her plans for after work. She turned things over to Glynda with relief, glad she was finally free to get this over with.

She exited Suncatchers through the front, which was uncharacteristic of her—but she wanted to look at it again.

Dmitri’s restaurant. Right there on the corner, across from hers. Remodeling was wrapping up, and she had to admit, the place looked classy. Chocolate brown awnings jutted out over large windows flanking the gold-trimmed entrance door. Bronze light fixtures were spaced evenly along the exterior with antique scrollwork decorating the mounts. Everything was polished to an impressive gleam, but there was still no sign in place. She sighed.

It was hard to think what this could do to her business. But that was free enterprise, and railing against it wasn’t going to change things. She would do what she’d always done—her very best. And this time around, she wouldn’t flagellate herself for what she couldn’t do. If Dmitri’s restaurant beat out hers, so be it. It was out of her hands.

The thought felt wildly liberating, and with an intoxicating mixture of freedom and trepidation weighing on her shoulders, she started to walk toward her neighborhood. But instead of taking the road to the left, leading toward home, she veered to the right and headed for Dmitri’s house.

She had thought to catch him at his restaurant, but the work had obviously closed up for the day. She couldn’t think where else to look for him but at his home, and she could only pray he was there. She didn’t much feel like waiting any longer to do this.

As she walked along, she drew her collar up higher against the sudden breeze. It seemed the seasons would turn quickly this year, with the promise of a long winter. She sighed, wondering how she’d make the walk to the restaurant each morning through ice and snow.