Woodlands (21 page)

“He was.” Leah swallowed. With Franklin’s passing she had lost a major connection to her childhood. Since she was already in the midst of an identity crisis these past few weeks, this loss added to her awareness that she was on her own. Not all alone, since God had made his presence so evident in her life, but fewer and fewer people were defining who she was and how others perceived her.

Seth reached over and began to massage Leah’s neck with his left hand. “You sure you’re doing okay? You were much closer to Franklin than I was.”

“I’m going to miss him.”

Seth pulled away his hand. She glanced at him and realized that the motion of stretching his arm out like that must have made him aware of how sore he was.

“What would be easiest for you?” Leah asked. “Would you like to go to Franklin’s house or to the hospital to pick up your car?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure what I should do. I’ve never gone through this before.”

Leah explained that Mavis was making phone calls. Arrangements needed to be decided on, and people needed to be met with, such as the funeral home director and the pastor. She offered to help in any way she could.

“If you have the time, could you stick with me and walk me through all this?” Seth asked.

“Of course.” The last thing she wanted to do was go home to her domestic disaster, and besides, this would help her to grapple with Franklin being gone.

One of the great things about the people in Glenbrooke was that they knew how to gather around and support one another in tough times. Everyone they talked to offered to help in one way or another. Leah told all of them there was nothing to do. She and Seth had it taken care of, and no, no one needed
to bring food to the house because Mavis was fine, and she and Seth were just leaving.

By the time Leah drove to the hospital to pick up Seth’s car, it was nearly seven o’clock. They said an awkward good-bye to each other. Seth looked exhausted and in pain. He was going home to a rowdy puppy and hopefully, somehow, a good night’s sleep. Leah was going home to a mess. She wanted to be angry about it, but she wasn’t sure whom to blame. Bungee, for getting out? Herself, for volunteering to take Bungee home and for not making the barricade more durable? Or Seth, for having the puppy in the first place?

When she came up with that accusation, Leah knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. She needed to tackle the mess, clean it up, and forget about it. However, it took Leah almost three hours to return her house to normal. She fell into bed exhausted.

The next morning she went through her Sunday school time with the toddlers in a fog. She wished she were in the service instead. It had been a long time since she had gone to the worship service. She hadn’t missed it before, but now she did.

She did have a chance to sit in a pew at church that week. It was at Franklin’s memorial service on Wednesday.

Collin Radcliffe called Leah that morning at work and asked if she would like him to escort her to the memorial service.

“No, thanks,” Leah told him.

“I wanted to express my condolences. I know you and Franklin were close. It would mean a lot to me if I could help in any way. If you don’t need a ride to the service, then please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

“Thanks, Collin, but I’m fine.”

He sounded sincere. Leah couldn’t figure out why Collin was suddenly being so attentive. When she saw him at the church, he was standing by the front door. He solemnly
walked in with her as if they had arranged to meet there and sit together.

The pastor gave a wonderful tribute to Franklin Madison, a man who had lived nearly a century in Glenbrooke and who had quietly, steadfastly trusted God through many seasons.

The church was packed. Seth sat in the aisle in front of Leah, next to his parents, who had come from Boulder. After the service, Collin followed Leah out of the church. She turned to him and said, “Thanks for showing support to me, Collin, but really, I’m fine. I don’t need anything. At all.” The edge in her voice made it clear she wanted him to stop following her around.

Collin looked a little hurt yet he controlled his emotions well. Leah couldn’t help but feel a twinge of victory as she thought,
There! How do you like having your sincere effort torn in two and the spirit of “love” crossed out?

As soon as she thought that, she felt guilty. It was her habit to encourage people and give to them, not hurt them and take away their dignity.

Collin mumbled good-bye and turned to go. Leah reached out and stopped him with a brief touch on his arm. “I apologize for sounding so abrupt. I appreciate your concern, Collin. Thank you.”

His eyes met hers, and a look of confidence washed across his face. “It’s my pleasure, Leah. And please know that my expression of concern is genuine.”

Leah nodded. She didn’t know what to say. He had such a calming voice and such a commanding presence. She felt guilty all over again for doubting his sincerity. After all, this was Glenbrooke. Glenbrooke people stuck together in hard times. It didn’t matter that he had been gone for so long. He had Glenbrooke ways in his blood. Leah knew she should trust Collin, but trusting anyone had always been a challenge for her.

Collin reached over and gave Leah’s elbow a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you around, Leah.”

She nodded again. “See you around, Collin.”

Collin headed for his Mercedes with another glance at Leah over his shoulder and a friendly wave. She waved back and thought,
Why couldn’t Collin, or any guy, have been that nice to me in high school? Does it take an extra decade to turn these local boys into men? Or was I as off-putting and porcupine-like in high school as my sisters kept telling me I was?

Seth exited the church with his mother and father. He came over to Leah and introduced her to his parents as “this is the one I told you about.”

His mother appeared to be an outgoing woman, even in the somberness of the occasion. His father resembled Seth in many ways, including his engaging smile.

“Seth tells us he would have been lost without you these past few weeks,” Mr. Edwards said, as he shook Leah’s hand.

She felt herself blushing and shrugged off the comment. “I didn’t do much.”

“You’re coming to the house, aren’t you?” Seth’s mom asked.

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

Leah had arranged for all the food at the family gathering in Franklin’s house. She had expected around fifty people, but nearly seventy guests came. Collin wasn’t among them, which didn’t surprise Leah. The invitation had circulated among close friends and family. She didn’t know how close Franklin was to his lawyer. Leah did notice that Franklin’s physician came as well as several home care nurses who had tended to Franklin over the years.

Despite Leah’s immediate fears when she walked into the house and saw more than fifty people present, there was plenty of food to go around. And typical of Glenbrooke gatherings,
there were even more stories to go around, as old-time folks recounted their favorite memories of Franklin.

“You know,” one of the older gentlemen said, “a little neighbor girl used to bring Franklin flowers every year on May Day. I guess she must have done it for years because he told me once that May Day was his favorite holiday.”

Leah looked down.

“That was Leah,” Ida stated. “Leah Hudson. You know Leah. Why, she’s standing right there in the corner. Tell him, Leah. Tell him how we brought the flowers this year, but it was too late.”

All eyes turned to Leah. “I should have brought the flowers in the morning,” she said quietly. The tears she had so effectively held back for days apparently had reached their limit and suddenly began to spill out. Leah felt an arm around her shoulder, and thinking it was Pastor Mike, she turned and let herself cry on his sports coat.

“Go ahead. Let the windows of your soul have a good cleaning.”

Leah looked up and swallowed her tears. Everyone in the room was watching Seth comfort her. In the past, she would have pulled away from his sympathetic touch. Not this time. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried her eyes out, not caring who was watching or what they thought.

Seth wrapped both his arms around her and tenderly whispered in her ear, “Come on. Let’s go in the other room.”

S
eth led Leah into the kitchen and offered her a napkin to dry her eyes. “You’re not somehow feeling responsible for Franklin’s passing away, are you?” He let go of her and leaned back to give her some space.

“I don’t know. I guess it all caught up with me.”

“Go ahead and cry if it helps. You’re always there for everyone else. This time, let me be there for you.”

“Thanks, Seth.” She looked up at him through bleary eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

“Any time, George,” he said warmly.

George! Does he have any idea how that nickname comforts me?

Leah wasn’t sure she could believe what was happening. Seth wasn’t teasing her. He wasn’t on drugs. He was there, with her, by choice. In front of a crowd of people, he had willingly put his arm around her and drawn her aside to comfort her. He
had called her George. Leah’s tears began to subside.

“You know, you’ve become someone very special to me,” Seth said, reaching over and catching the last of her tears as it coursed down her cheek. “Franklin told me you were the key I was looking for. I think he was right.”

Leah felt her heart pounding. His confession to her in the car on the way home from the hospital hadn’t been a cruel joke. He had meant it, whether he remembered all of it or not. She knew she had to decide whether she believed him. If she believed him, that meant she needed to believe something new about herself. She was of the right frame and frame of mind.

“Do you really mean that, Seth?”

“Yes, I do.”

Just then Ida walked into the kitchen. “Don’t mind me, you two. I’m after some more napkins.”

“Right there on the counter,” Seth said.

“So they are,” Ida said. She seemed to search Leah’s expression, trying to discern what was going on with them. “I’ll just have a look in the refrigerator and see if anything else needs to be put out on the table.”

Leah and Seth waited quietly until Ida was gone.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” Seth asked.

“Where? I mean, I’m supposed to clean up after everyone leaves.”

“Why don’t you let someone else do that for a change?” Seth suggested. “Let’s go for a ride. It’ll give you a chance to clear your thoughts.”

“Okay,” Leah heard herself say. “I’ll go ask Jessica if—”

“I’ll ask her,” Seth volunteered. “And I’m sure my mom will be glad to help, too. You always take care of everyone else. It’s time you let someone take care of you.”

Leah stood in the kitchen, stunned at what was happening
with Seth. He returned after a few minutes and told her everything was set. Then he motioned to the back door and suggested they avoid walking through the crowd.

Fortunately, Seth had parked down the street so he had no problem pulling out of his parking spot. They drove past the house and took the road that led out of town.

“Where are we going?” Leah asked.

“I thought we would just drive. It’s a beautiful afternoon. What happened to all that rain you said would hang around until June?”

“Don’t worry. It will be back. They don’t call this area the ‘Great North-Wet’ for nothing,” Leah joked.

“I like it here,” Seth said.

“You still want to stay even though you don’t need to be here to be treated by Dr. Norton?”

Seth glanced at her and then back at the road. “Yes, of course I want to stay here. This is where I want to settle. Why, did you think I’d leave now that I’ve been given a clean bill of health?”

“Well …” Leah stalled. That was exactly what she had been thinking. More precisely, it was what she feared. She thought Seth would announce he was going back to Costa Rica. “The thought did cross my mind.”

“No,” Seth said decidedly. “This is where I want to be. I told my parents that last night when they tried to convince me I should go back to Boulder with them.”

“Why did they want you to go to Boulder?”

Seth shrugged. “My dad thought I could find a better job there. My mom thinks the doctors are better there. I told them about the melanoma. They were pretty upset that I hadn’t told them sooner. You know how it is when you’re the youngest. It doesn’t matter how old you are, they still think they have to take care of you.”

“Not always,” Leah said softy. She was the youngest, but her experience had been the opposite of Seth’s.

“That’s right, your situation was a little different, wasn’t it?”

“But I know what you mean. Even though I was the responsible one toward the end, I still felt my parents didn’t trust me to figure things out or to do things the right way. The day before my mother passed away, she asked me if I had filed my income taxes yet because April 15 was just around the corner.”

“And had you worked on your taxes yet?”

Leah nodded. “I had done mine and theirs by February 15.”

“My mom would have been impressed. As a matter of fact, I’m impressed. It’s taken me a while to feel independent of my parents.”