Covered Bridge Charm (23 page)

“Nothing of the sort!” Auntie chided. “These are marvelous.”

“I like this one,” Jimmy said, pointing to a design where each square was topped with a ribbon and bow.

Carly tapped a Christmas tree design made from four triangles each tilted playfully.

“This one reminds me of Adam’s tree farm.”

Jimmy gave her a sharp glance.

Miranda tapped her watch. “I should get back to the house. I’m on for dinner duty tonight.” She gave a contrite smile. “The house only has one car, and they dropped me off earlier. I need to call for a ride.”

Scooting his chair, Jimmy jumped to his feet. “I’ll take you home.”

Carly frowned. For a guy used to fending off girls, he was slipping.

Miranda thanked him and then Carly before she told Aunt Fannie, “I’d be happy to help more.” She shrugged. “If you like.”

“Would you like to look at some material with me? I have to send samples along with my pattern.”

“Sure.” Miranda scribbled her phone number on one of the pattern pieces. “It was really fun. Thanks so much.”

When Jimmy was at the door, Auntie called, “Don’t forget to take that pie.” Once they were gone, she turned to Carly. “I like that girl. She’s a real surprise.”

“She certainly is.”

“Inspiring. In fact, I’ve even got an idea for you.”

“Jah?”

“I understand Ann’s good with the children at church. Why don’t you ask her for ideas about incorporating the children.”

Carly’s eyes lit with excitement. “Of course. She loves children. Maybe she’d even head it up for me.”

Later when Carly was alone, she absently stroked Cocoa. She needed to rethink her relationship with Miranda. How quickly the woman had wormed her way into her family’s hearts. Why was her own so cold against Miranda? Her thoughts rambled through the afternoon’s events. She hadn’t even known Miranda was an artist. How easily she’d sketched her ideas. Carly’s favorite was still the tree. A quilt like that would make a great gift for Adam. Someday.

She shook aside the thought. Giving Adam gifts was trouble. Then she remembered his sister Ann also helped out at the tree farm. Would she have enough time to help with the volunteer program? Thinking there was only one way to find out, she picked up her phone.

A large wrench held the door to Sweet Life’s furnace room ajar. Carly hadn’t heard anything was wrong and assumed it was Rocco doing routine maintenance work. She stuck her head inside to give a friendly greeting. It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the dimly lit room. The first thing she saw was a battered red toolbox, a familiar box that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Her gaze shot to Mr. Gadget, who was slumped over in his wheelchair in front of the heating unit. Her worst fear came true. “Sonny!”

Mr. Gadget flinched, and a screwdriver clunked to the floor beside a discarded hammer. Her eyes lifted and she saw dents all along the unit’s protective casing.

“Have it running good as new,” he muttered.

She swallowed, quickly assessing the situation. The unit was partly dismantled and wires were precariously exposed. She had no electrical training but assumed since Sonny was still breathing that they weren’t in imminent danger. She touched his shoulder. “Good. You can finish after lunch. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

He rubbed a hand over his balding head. “Guess I could eat.”

Careful not to touch any of the wiring, she wheeled him out of the room, closing the door behind them. Catching Miranda in the hall, she pawned Sonny off and hurried to the front desk. “Becca, call Rocco. We need him immediately!”

After conferring with Sherie, she put a call through to Sonny’s son, explaining the situation. “It’s time to take his toolbox away.” She listened to the son’s objections. “I know. But it’s one thing to dismantle his bed and another to play with live wires. He could have gotten killed today.” She blushed when he put the blame on the center’s care. “We can’t be with him every second.” After a lengthy discussion, it was finally determined to place the toolbox under lock and key until the weekend when it would be replaced with plastic tools.

“That’s rough,” Becca said. Then she turned a cheery smile toward the lobby. “Good morning.”

A ray of sunshine filled the room as Ann’s four-year-old-daughter, Mary, skipped toward them. “Hi. We’re having a picnic lunch.”

“You are? How wonderful,” Becca replied before turning to answer the phone.

Glancing at the residents gathering for lunch, Ann raised a brow. “Is this a bad time?”

Carly brushed her hand through the air. “No more than usual. Sonny just dismantled the heating element, but Rocco’s putting it back together.” When Ann’s eyes widened, Carly grinned. “I’ll go grab my lunch.” She was anxious to discuss the volunteer program with Ann.

When she returned from the staff room, she waited while Ann finished conversing with some of the residents who had gathered for the noon meal. Martha was questioning little Mary about her age and when she planned to attend school. Smiles all around, the residents loved having Mary visiting them.

After that, they moved outside to the garden patio and sat on a metal bench. “Thanks for meeting me like this.”

“No problem. I feel guilty for not coming more often.”

“One person can’t do everything,” Carly said. “I hear you’re really good with children.”

Ann dimpled and hugged little Mary. “I love children.”

“Did you notice how the residents lit up when Mary entered the room?”

“Jah. It made my heart swell,” Ann replied.

As they spread out their lunch items on a metal side table, Carly explained, “That’s why I invited you to lunch.”

Ann tilted her head. “Really? This isn’t about my brother?”

Carly laughed nervously. “No. Sweet Life is starting a volunteer program called Every Little Bit Helps.”

Ann nodded. “Adam told me you drafted the entire program and that he was appalled at the way Uncle Si treated you.”

“That’s water under the bridge. Sherie’s been letting me help. In fact, she liked my newest idea and asked me to make it happen.” Surprise governed Ann’s expression, and Carly could see the other woman was struggling to understand how she was to be involved. She recognized the instant that Ann understood.

“It has something to do with children, doesn’t it?”

“Jah. Michelle Zook asked me if she could read to the residents. They would love it. Children could sing and play games.” Carly leaned close and whispered. “At this stage in life, the residents have much in common with children. They enjoy the same things.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I could bring the church group over.”

Carly bit her lip. Then she continued. “I’m single. I don’t know much about children.”

Ann grinned. “And I do.”

“Jah. I know you’re busy at the Christmas tree farm right now, and I hate to ask, but you’re perfect for the job. Will you head up the children’s volunteer program?”

“Mama! Look!”

Carly watched the child’s delight as a gray squirrel with a bushy tail skittered along the fence wall and finally climbed high into an oak tree.

Mary clapped her hands. “Again! Again!”

“He’s gathering supplies for winter.”

“Does he live in that tree, Mama?”

“Jah, I suppose he does.”

“Can I go look?’”

“Sure.”

They watched the little girl run to the fence and stand gazing up into the tree. The squirrel chattered loudly.

“What’s he saying, Mama?”

“He’s scolding you for interrupting his work.”

“Is he the old people’s squirrel?”

“Jah, honey.” Her voice faded, “I already teach Sunday school. And like you said, it’s November, and I’m busy at the farm. But my main concern is Dad. He’s already jealous about Adam’s time here at the center.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Carly bit her tongue, to keep from saying how unfair and childish it was for Roman to control his adult children and prevent them from helping others. Being the family peacemaker probably made Ann more aware of her dad’s feelings.

“Let me talk it over with Ron, and we’ll pray about it.”

“Of course.” She could understand getting a husband’s approval. But even that grated her at the moment.

Ann watched Mary skip along the fence, where she was gathering leaves, acorns, and seed pods. “Now I know how Adam feels.”

Carly studied her friend.

“Dad’s a good man, but stubborn. He doesn’t like anybody to cross him.”

A catch appeared in Carly’s throat. “And he doesn’t like me.” She fiddled with her napkin. “So he doesn’t want your entire family to have anything to do with Sweet Life?”

Ann’s hand shot out. “Oh no. No, it’s not that. It’s Simon. He says he doesn’t want us to be led astray by his brother who broke away from our church.”

Carly’s thoughts drifted. When they’d dated, Dale had attended a more progressive church. When he’d proposed marriage, he told her it wasn’t an issue so she’d assumed they’d go to the Conservative Church. Assumptions. In the end, he suggested finding a new church in Indiana, one that would fit both their needs.

“But Adam and I know it’s more than that.” Carly blinked. Met Ann’s gaze.

“He’s jealous of Uncle Si. It’s just a delicate situation. With nothing to do with you.”

Carly found that hard to believe.

“Mama!” Mary skipped to the table and pointed back at the tree. “Is heaven up there in that tree?”

“No honey. Why?”

“Because all those old people are ready to go to heaven.”

Ann smiled apologetically.

Carly sighed. “I guess that’s one thing children don’t have in common with the residents.”

“That’s why your idea is so good. They’d bring life to this place.”

Long after Ann had gone, while Carly was looking for the General’s hearing aid, their conversation lingered. It was what Ann hadn’t said that hurt the most. Roman Lapp was stubbornly set against Carly because he didn’t think she was good enough for his son. And even if Adam went against his father’s wishes, would she want to be a part of a family that lived in fear of the dictates of the family head? She didn’t think so.

S
nip. Snip.
November brought death to Carly’s flower garden. As gardening went, it was her least favorite month, and she spent many late afternoons cleaning and mulching. On Saturday, Jimmy promised to come and help rake and compost leaves. Kneeling now, she trimmed her pink coneflowers and chrysanthemums down to four- to six-inch stems and worked the dry heads back into the soil. As her thumb scattered the seeds, little Mary’s words came to mind.
“All the old people are ready to go to heaven.”

Hearing the words from one just starting life had initiated the sadness that enveloped her yesterday. Since then, it’d been easy to allow negative thinking to invade her mind. Working the soil, she understood death was inevitable and even a blessing. Wasn’t heaven a better place? She should be happy for the release the elderly experienced. Free from pain. Reunited with loved ones. She was too earthly minded. She wanted to change. To trust God with her life and find her own release from the pain her job entailed.

“Hello!” Imogene waved two glasses of sweet tea by invitation.

Carly rose, swiping her brow with the sleeve of her black sweater and crossed the street. “Thanks.” She took several satisfying sips of the sweet tea.

“Why so glum? Spring is just around the corner.”

“Hardly.” Only that was negative thinking, and she’d just chastised herself for that. But she could be honest with Imogene. “It’s just that my flowers reflect everything else in my life. Dying.”

“Bah! It’s all of us old people you hang around with. What about that good-looking fellow with the black truck? He even gets my blood a-pumping, and I’m happily married to Baldy.”

Carly laughed. “Adam’s a good friend. He runs a Christmas Tree Farm, and he’s pretty busy this time of year.”

“So that’s the problem.”

“Some people are meant to remain single,” she reminded herself as much as Imogene.

“I probably can’t change your mind about that, but I can give you a cutting of my pink camellias. They’d sure look pretty against your yellow cottage.”

“Really?” Carly squealed. She bit her lip and looked across the street. “Where?”

“Why not back by your stick pile?”

“You tired of looking at that?”

“Just problem solving.”

“I could do more with the back. In fact, it could use a major face-lift.”

“Imogene!” A man’s voice called from her neighbor’s cottage. Imogene sighed. “I’ll see what Baldy wants and bring the cutting over in a little bit.”

“Okay. Give me enough time to take a shower. And thanks for the tea.” Now inspired, Carly set off imagining pink camellia bushes against a short, white picket fence to hide her stick pile.