Reflection (52 page)

She was probably right. Only the day before, Michael had signed a contract to begin teaching theology at the college in Elizabethtown in the fall, and he was joining a pastoral-counseling practice in a few weeks. Rachel would be teaching learning-disabled kids in Lancaster come September, and the two of them would be married in October, once Michael's divorce was final. They would also be the godparents of Lily and Ian Jackson's baby, due in August. And they were building a house on Helen's land, on the other side of the woods from her house.

Michael had been all set to join Rachel in Zaire in January. He'd had his inoculations and was already packed when flooding hit California, and he knew the need was more urgent there. So off he went to Los Angeles with other Mennonite volunteers. Helen knew how anxious he had been to see Rachel, and she admired him immensely for that personal sacrifice. She wrote as much to Rachel.
I could never sacrifice my own desires for others in that way
, she'd written, and Rachel had written back,
You're joking, right?

She supposed she had sacrificed a good deal over the years, but there was no longer any need to. She had all she could ever want now. Hans had arrived and never left, except for a few visits to his wife before Winona's death in early October. He and Helen had been married on Christmas Day. Rachel teasingly complained that they should have waited until her return in February so she could have attended the wedding.

“Sorry,” Hans had said. “We're too old for a long engagement.”

He'd hired someone to rebuild the tree house and surprised Helen with it as a wedding gift. He'd had two rocking chairs set inside the screened-in structure, and a long, curved staircase now led up to the door. Helen knew that the day would come when neither she nor Hans could get up those stairs, but for now it was one of their favorite places to sit and talk.

The conductor walked onto the stage, and the audience applauded. He smiled at his orchestra, then looked down at Helen with a nod before holding his hand out to welcome the pianist.

Hans strode across the stage with that familiar, commanding presence. He dove right into playing the dramatic opening passage of
Reflections
, and Helen played along with him in her mind.

Nearly an hour had passed by the time Hans and the orchestra had finished the piece, and the audience was quick to give the musicians a standing ovation. The conductor asked Helen to rise, and the applause thundered around her as she waved to the crowd. It was the first time she was being acknowledged as something more than the wife of an important man, she thought. The experience was surprisingly gratifying.

Hans joined them in the foyer during the intermission. “I think we should all enjoy a glass of champagne out on the terrace,” he said.

Michael got their champagne—and his club soda—and they headed for the doors to the terrace. Only then did Helen notice the lightning. It flashed against the windows, and she had one moment of panic before she remembered the opine and Saint-John's-wort in her beaded handbag. She'd clipped fresh sprigs just that morning and wrapped them in plastic to bring with her on the trip. Now she clutched the handbag close to her side as she accompanied her husband through the doors.

The broad terrace stretched the entire length of the Kennedy Center, high above the Potomac River. It was not yet raining, but the air was charged with the approaching storm. Thunder grumbled in the distance, rising up in waves, and lightning turned the water of the Potomac silver. Helen felt her breathing sharpen, quicken, and she consciously worked to slow it down. Her palm was perspiring where it pressed against the handbag.

“I want to walk out to the edge,” she said to Hans.

He looked surprised for only a second before nodding and taking her elbow, guiding her toward the far side of the terrace. The lights from a plane moved toward them through the darkness before slipping over their heads, and to their right Georgetown glittered in the sky and the river.

“All right, dear?” Hans asked, and she nodded, drawing in a few long, calming breaths.

Rachel and Michael stood a short distance away from them. Rachel pointed toward Georgetown, and Michael put his head back and laughed, the sound carrying like an echo above the river. Rachel glanced over at them and said something to Michael before walking toward Helen and Hans.

“Are you all right out here, Gram?” she asked. “Would you rather be inside?”

“I'm absolutely fine,” Helen said with an assurance she was beginning to feel in her bones.

Rachel smiled at her. “Good for you,” she said. She walked back to Michael and took his arm, and Helen watched with a sense of contentment as the younger couple began to stroll down the terrace.

The lightning grew fiercer, surrounding her and Hans with arrhythmic splashes of white light, and the thunder settled into a constant, deep-throated rumbling. Helen lifted her face to the sky as the first tentative raindrops fell. As if he knew she needed to take this fearless stand against the storm, Hans waited quietly at her side.,

“It's a beautiful storm,” Helen said, and she meant it. Her love of treacherous weather was being reborn inside her. The river suddenly lit up like a long, sinewy pool of mercury. “Look at that!” she exclaimed with childish delight, and Hans chuckled.

In the next flash of lightning, the buildings and spires of Georgetown were abruptly altered, washed in silver, transformed into something entirely new—the way the lightning had transformed her, transformed all of them.

It was raining harder. “We should go in, Helen,” Hans said. “I need to get backstage. Can you tear yourself away?”

She nodded, reluctantly turning her back on the storm to walk with him across the terrace. She was a new woman as she crossed the grand foyer, calm and brave and invulnerable as she listened to her husband play a piece she'd written only a year ago. And it wasn't until the end of the piece, when she reached into her handbag for a tissue to blot her tears, that she discovered something she had probably known all along: she had left her herbs at home.

All it took was a drive through the Pennsylvania Dutch Country for me to know I wanted to set a book in that beautiful area. I knew Amish characters wouldn't fit well into the storyline I had in mind, so I did some reading and studying of the culture to learn more about the people I might create. The Mennonites intrigued me with their faith and the lives they lived, half ‘in the world' and half out. I decided to go all the way and make one of my central characters a Mennonite minister and that is how Michael was born.

If I was going to create a character who was a Mennonite minister, I knew I needed more than book research to flesh him out. I needed, at the very least, to visit a Mennonite church, yet living in Northern Virginia didn't give me much of an opportunity. So on one of my research trips to Pennsylvania, I located a Mennonite church and pulled into its parking lot on a Sunday morning. I was uncomfortable and nervous, feeling like an intruder. I sat in my car trying to get up the nerve to go inside when I spotted a young couple walking across the parking lot. I got out of my car and approached them, explaining why I was there and asking if they thought anyone would mind if I attended the service. They took me under their wings, letting me sit with them and encouraging me to introduce myself at the point in the service when visitors could do so. I discovered quickly that Mennonites, at least this church full of them, were a welcoming group. I loved the simplicity of the church as well as the service itself, and Michael really came to life for me as I sat there. I stayed in touch with the woman who'd invited me to sit with her and her husband and she read the complete manuscript for me (she admitted she'd never read “that sort of book” before!). She made a few helpful suggestions. I'll always be grateful to her and her husband for their acceptance and encouragement.

Around the time I started writing Reflection, I read a memoir by a woman who'd been struck by lightning. The book,
A Match to the Heart
by Gretel Ehrlich, examined both the physical and spiritual aspects of such an injury, and it inspired the opening scene of
Reflection
in which Helen is struck by lightning. Her accident gave me good reason to bring Rachel back to the town that had pushed her out long ago. I really enjoyed writing about Helen and her many secrets. I learned so much about musical composition and ciphers! I always enjoy figuring out the twists and turns in a novel and pacing revelations in a way that I hope will keep my readers engrossed, but never more so than in
Reflection
.

On that first drive through the Pennsylvania countryside, I came up with the title of the book. I knew I wanted one word that would describe both the town and the emotion of the story and I believe I found the right title with the word ‘reflection.' I think it's one of my quieter stories, despite the tension and the drama. It's more, well,
reflective
, than my others. I hope you enjoyed it.

I'm grateful to the following people for sharing their expertise and ideas with me during the writing of
Reflection
:

April Adamson, Judy Harrison, David Heagy, Mary Kirk, Don Rebsch, Ed Reed, Joann Scanlon, Cindy Schacte, and Suzanne Schmidt, along with the Mount Vernon Writers' Group and my teatime colleagues, the Online Book Group. Also, I'm forever grateful to the young couple I met in the parking lot of Mennonite church in the Pennsylvania Dutch country, who not only invited me to sit with them during the service but who read this manuscript with open minds and encouragement.

Diane Chamberlain is the author of 21 novels. A former medical social worker and psychotherapist, she lives in North Carolina with photographer John Pagliuca and their two Shelties, Keeper and Jet. You can visit her
website
and her
blog
, and she is active with her readers on her
Facebook page
. Join her there!

I maintain a printable booklist on the
Books Page
of my website to help my readers keep up with both my new and reissued novels. A few of my books are linked and the list can help you read them in order. Also, some books have other titles in the United Kingdom and Australia, and the list will help you keep them straight. UK and Australian readers will find more help on my
International Page
. Here is a list of my novels available both in print and as e-books.

The Good Father (coming in May 2012)

The Midwife's Confession

The Lies We Told

The Shadow Wife (originally Cypress Point)

Secrets She Left Behind

Before the Storm

The Secret Life of CeeCee Wilkes

The Bay at Midnight

Breaking the Silence

Summer's Child

Her Mother's Shadow

Kiss River

Keeper of the Light

The Courage Tree

Backlist Available as e-books

Secret Lives

Reflection

The Escape Artist

Brass Ring

Fire and Rain

Lovers and Strangers (coming in 2012)

Private Relations (coming in 2012)