Heaven Preserve Us (7 page)

Displays? I eyed the hodgepodge of jars I'd unloaded on the
table and looked around again for my housemate.

Ruth Black, full of energy after her afternoon at Heaven House,
assisted her Uncle Thaddeus with the dark jars of blueberry conserve I'd been hoping for. They were gorgeous next to the deep
purple-maroon beets and brilliant orange pickled carrots. Thaddeus Black, pushing ninety with good-natured verve, leaned on
his gnarled cane and directed her efforts. Next to them stood tall,
lean Bette, a potter and friend who lived down the block from us.
She had a deep voice, didn't seem to own any clothing that had
escaped the clay spatter of her trade, and made a mean batch of
bread and butter pickles. Our neighbor across the alley, Mavis
Gray, had brought brownie, cookie and biscuit mixes, the dry ingredients layered like geological strata visible through the clear
jars; homemade convenience food, at your fingertips.

Jude shuffled from table to table and then seemed to settle in
next to his own arrangement of red, orange, amber and green jellies lit from behind by a string of tiny white Christmas lights. They
were quite beautiful, and I found myself smiling. His eyes flicked up to meet mine for a split second, and he smiled briefly in response before returning to an examination of the floor someplace
in front of his shoes.

He was a rather good-looking guy, with thick blonde hair,
green eyes and a round face. His light tan accented noticeably nice
skin. Still, he always came across as painfully shy and awkward. He
was supposed to be in charge of the preserves exchange, but it
looked like Maryjake had steamrolled right over him. I resolved to
spend some time coaxing him out of his shell this evening.

I was surprised to see Luke Chase walk out of one of the empty
rooms at the rear of the building. Philip had made some noises
about making it into a small daycare area, but like the meeting
room it had no furniture and no real purpose as of yet. Evidently,
from Luke's telltale paint-spattered T-shirt, it now had gray-blue
paint on the walls. That was a start-though the start of what, I
had no idea.

Luke walked over and spoke to Maryjake, who responded in a
distracted manner. He seemed to repeat something, and this time
she turned on him and pointed to the door. Seemed an odd thank
you for painting well into the evening like that, especially as I knew
he and Seth had been working on our chicken coop most of the
day before coming over here. Of course, Maryjake was obviously
still upset about what had happened that afternoon with Philip, so
I needed to cut her a break. I considered going over and rescuing
Luke from her mood, but then Seth came out, lugging a big plastic
bucket of painting equipment in one hand and a can of paint in
the other. He joined his brother, and together they pushed out of
the swinging glass door to the sidewalk out front.

Ah-there was Meghan. Standing by the back door with a guy
I'd never seen before. I waved in her direction, but she didn't notice. All her attention was focused on the man next to her. He was
about seven inches taller than her five-foot frame, with longish
black hair and an olive complexion. He looked older than Meghan,
perhaps in his early forties.

I remembered her hesitant question about whether I'd seen
someone this morning. And her offhand comment when she'd
learned Barr couldn't-or wouldn't-help with loading up the
jars of preserves. Something about calling someone else to come
help. Was this the guy she'd had in mind?

Erin had forsaken Nardella and her Treasures for the time being
and wandered around looking bored. I caught her eye and waved
her over.

"Who's that? The guy your mom's talking to?"

"That's Kelly. They're going to the movies on Friday."

"They are?"

"I heard them talking. They've been getting around to it for a
while."

I examined the child's pixie face, full of unspoken wry commentary on her mother's love life. But I believed her. How could I
not have known about Meghan's burgeoning interest in this guy? I
felt totally out of the loop.

But instead of asking Erin that question, I asked, "You okay
with that?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

"Yeah" I nodded. "Why not?" Then why did I feel so uncomfortable about this stranger chatting up my best friend?

I thought of Meghan's ex-husband, Richard. He'd been good
looking, too, but in a pretty-boy kind of way. This guy looked rugged and maybe a little worn and ... solid. Richard was far out of
the picture by now, living in California and more or less banished
from Meghan and Erin's life. But he'd always been a problem,
cheating on her and burdening their lives with a serious gambling
problem. It wasn't until they'd split and she'd nearly lost the house
we lived in now that I'd moved in with her and Erin. Newly widowed at the time, I'd needed their support as much as they needed
mine.

But maybe this new guy she was interested in-finally interested in-would be good for her... ? There was no reason on earth
I shouldn't like him.

Was there?

I shook myself. "Do me a favor. Try to arrange these jars a little
better. Make them look nice. We're supposed to have some kind of
display."

"Urn. Okay." Erin started shoving jars around.

I hurried back out to the car for the carton of wine jelly still
remaining in the trunk, keeping an eye on the fringes of the parking lot for shady-looking characters lurking behind bushes.

Instead, I got a brown-eyed handsome man parking next to the
Volvo. Barr Ambrose got out, strode to my side, and pulled me to
him. Long-legged, streaks of gray winding through his wavy chestnut hair, he wore jeans, a tan corduroy sports coat, and one of his
signature string ties-this one a pewter steer's skull-with a white
shirt. He smelled like wood shavings and leather.

"Mmmph," I said into his shoulder, which meant, "Damn, I
love the way you wrap around me like we've fit together for years."

"What?"

"I'm glad you came," I said.

He smiled. "You hung up on me"

"Well..."

"All snitty-like."

I examined the toe of his cowboy boot. "Sorry."

He cocked his head. "I know I don't have a lot of time to spend
with you. It won't be forever, though. I promise."

I licked my lips. "I know. There's no excuse for hanging up on
you. All I can say is that it's been a pretty stressful day."

"Boy, I hear you." He exhaled loudly. "Now give me that." Hefting the heavy box, he preceded me back into Heaven House.

Erin had tidied things up quite a bit, and the three of us arranged wine jelly in record time. Meghan still stood with Kelly,
laughing at whatever he was saying. Oh, brother: it was the complimentary laugh, the one that told a man how brilliant and funny
he was. She had it bad.

"Okay, everyone. I think we're ready." Maryjake's voice was
rough. Usually it filled the room with ease, but tonight I strained
to hear her.

Barr stepped forward and cleared his throat. I frowned, unsure
of what he was doing.

"Before we begin I need to make an announcement," he said.
"This morning Philip Heaven became very ill and was rushed to
the hospital."

No one looked surprised. Anyone who hadn't known before
coming to the exchange had become privy to this information by
now.

"He went immediately into the ICU, but, I'm very sorry to say,
they weren't able to save him."

What?

Barr continued. "Philip Heaven died at four p.m. today. I know
this must be very distressing news to those of you who didn't
know."

Jude's eyes flicked up again, and I knew he'd already been informed. For a moment I felt angry. He should have told us. Then I
felt bad; Philip had been his cousin, after all.

Other faces were blank. Ruth Black's hand went to her mouth.
Thaddeus looked stoic. Meghan's eye's filled with tears. Kelly put
his arm around her and drew her close, his own expression speculative.

And then I wondered why the heck Barr hadn't told me Philip
had died. What was I? Chopped liver? He must have known when
I talked to him on the phone earlier. When he stepped back to my
side I moved away from him. He shot me a look, but I was too
upset to try to interpret it.

From the corner of my eye I saw Maryjake teeter forward, and
as I turned my head, she crumpled in front of Ruth Black's display.
She hit the edge of the table with her shoulder as she went down,
and one of the pint jars of beets teetered and fell onto the painted
concrete floor, impacting with a loud crack! The glass broke and
the pressurized contents burst out, painting the wall and floorand my brand new white sneakers-with chunks and splatters of
deep red goo that would stain forever.

The sound of the breaking glass grabbed the attention of everyone who'd missed Maryjake actually falling, and soon she was surrounded by bewildered participants of the Cadyville preserves
exchange and whomever they'd dragged with them to the event.
The beet juice surrounding her looked like blood.

"Maryjake? Maryjake!" James crouched beside her, shaking her
shoulder. He leaned forward and pressed his ear against her considerable chest. It reminded me of what I had done to Philip only
hours earlier. Surely she wasn't-

She sucked in a sudden, whooping breath, and her eyes popped
open. When she saw her husband's face so close to hers, she recoiled and pushed him away. Hard.

"Leave me alone."

He fell back on his posterior, narrowly missing a piece of broken glass on the floor. A flush infused his cheeks. Not the kind of
response you expect from a loved one in distress whom you're trying to help.

Apparently emergencies brought some things to a head. Interesting.

Maryjake started wailing and shaking. Meghan stepped in and
grabbed her.

"Stop it." Meghan's gaze rose to meet mine as I backed out of
the crowd. She nodded, understanding what I was doing. "Not too
cold." Her words cut through the babble of voices and Maryjake's
high-volume hysteria.

I turned and ran to the bathroom, filling a couple of tiny Dixie
cups with water. Then back to the gawker knot surrounding Maryjake. Her lips had taken on a blue tinge, and she was gasping for
breath. Hyperventilating, big time. I held out both of the little cups
of water to Meghan, who took them and promptly threw them in
Maryjake's face.

Maryjake stopped gasping and stared at Meghan. We all did.
I smiled. So much for breathing into a paper bag.

We milled around, the awkward silence occasionally punctuated
by a whispered comment. James had taken Maryjake home despite
her weak protests. Erin stood with Meghan's arm lightly draped
across her shoulder. Her gray eyes moved from face to face, watching the reactions of everyone in the group. Barr was in the restroom. Jude stood next to his table of jellies looking like he wanted
to cry. Mrs. Gray and Bette silently cleaned up the beets and shards
of glass.

No one seemed to want to take charge.

Standing with all those people, I felt very alone. Was there something more I should have done to help Philip earlier that afternoon?
I had to wonder, but I genuinely couldn't think what it could be. I
regretted giving him a hard time, even though he was so obviously
ill. I regretted my complaining about his inefficiency and boorishness. So he wasn't a genius. So he lacked class. He'd just been a guy, a
regular guy, who wanted to do some good and had a chance to try.
Now he wasn't going to have a chance to try anything ever again.

A heavy curtain of depression settled over me. I wanted to go
home and crawl in bed for several hundred years.

Instead, I spoke to the room. "I hate to say this." My voice
sounded too loud in my skull. "But we should probably finish the
exchange."

Meghan nodded. "Let's just get it over with." Her new beau
stepped to her side-now where had he been?-and I saw her
shoulders automatically shift toward him.

Murmurs throughout the room signaled general agreement,
and people began moving to the tables, almost reluctantly picking
up foodstuffs to take home. Missing was any banter among the
volunteers. I was staring at a jar of sauerkraut with nary a thought
of a Reuben sandwich in my head when Jude came to stand silently beside me.

"You knew," I said in a low voice.

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"You should have told us."
"

I didn't want to ruin the exchange. It was supposed to be for
morale among the volunteers."

I turned and stared at him, amazed. He looked away and
blinked rapidly. Could it be that he hadn't known how to tell us?
That was it, I realized. How very difficult to be Jude Carmichael
on a daily basis.

Barr came out of the restroom and walked to my side.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concern over his appearance overriding my thoughts about Jude.