Hidden History (7 page)

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Authors: Melody Carlson

BOOK: Hidden History
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“Do you think he really does it?” asked Jane. “Did he actually run away from home with his mother?”

“Not that I know of,” said Louise. “But I am sure that we will find out.”

Alice paused to sip some tea. “That’s the end of the first entry. Do you think we should save the next one for tomorrow?”

“Is it very long?” asked Jane. “I feel as if that wasn’t enough.”

Alice thumbed through the next entry. “It’s only a couple of pages.”

“Do you want to read it?” asked Louise.

Alice nodded, then continued.

November 5, 1925.

This is nearly a month later.

Today is a happy day for this Englishtown farm boy. Unbeknownst to me, Mr. Dolton entered an essay I had written for English class in a statewide contest. It was only an essay on fishing and not very special. If I had known it was to be entered in a statewide contest I might have chosen a more impressive subject, but Mr. Dolton assured me that it was a perfectly fine paper. So fine, in fact, that this afternoon, Mr. Dolton announced to the entire school that my essay had won. For a prize, I will receive twenty dollars. I have never had that much money in my entire life. Mr. Dolton had already notified the newspaper where I work part-time, and they came over to the school and took a photo of me and will compose a short article about my good fortune. They will even print a copy of my essay in the newspaper after the contest people return it to me. This is all very good news, and I am most thankful to Mr. Dolton, but I wish there was some way to keep my father from learning about the prize money. Twenty dollars would go a long way in helping Mother and me to get away from here, but I am afraid that my father will find out about my windfall and insist that I contribute it to the farm. Harvest has not been good this year, partially because
of him and partially because of the inconsistency of the elements, not to mention the falling price of corn. I suppose I should be willing to share, and perhaps I will. But I wish I could save it. I feel quite optimistic to think that my essay was good enough to win. Mr. Dolton says that if I keep up this kind of work, I may even win a scholarship to college, but in order to do so, he reminds me that I must stay in school and keep my marks up. I am not sure what lies ahead, but today I feel hopeful. I think I shall go fishing to celebrate.

“Ah,” said Louise. “Good for him.”

“Thank God for Mr. Dolton,” cheered Jane.

Alice closed the book. “It reminds me of how important it is to encourage young people,” she said.

“Like the girls in your ANGELs group?” said Jane.

“Yes, and Louise’s piano students,” added Alice.

“And Jane’s work with Josie,” said Louise, referring to a lonesome little girl whom Jane had befriended.

Alice smiled. “I think Father would approve.”

“I wonder if there’s anything more we should be doing,” said Jane.

Alice considered that for a moment. “You know, one of the most impressive things that Father used to do was simply
talk with kids. He’d ask them questions about their lives or about what they were thinking or feeling.”

“And did they actually tell him?” asked Louise.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at how much they opened up.” Alice used a napkin to blot a spot of tea from the surface of the desk. “Kids really responded well to Father. I think it’s because he never talked down to them. And he never seemed to judge them either. I think they sensed this and respected him for it.”

“Well, it’s something to aim for.” Jane stood up and began gathering the teacups.

“And to pray about,” added Louise.

Alice nodded. “Yes, we should be praying for these kids. I’m sure there were people praying for Father when he was growing up.”

“God only knows what kind of difference that made,” said Louise as they turned off the lights and closed the library door.

Chapter Six

S
unday was such a busy day that the three sisters opted not to read from their father’s journal in the evening. The next day Alice found herself thinking about her father’s boyhood days as she made her rounds in the hospital. She was on her way down to the lab to pick up some blood test results when she saw Vera sitting in the waiting area.

“Vera,” said Alice. “What are you doing here?”

Vera gave her a weak wave. “Waiting.”

Alice sat down beside her. “How are you feeling?”

Vera just shook her head. “Not so good.”

“Is Fred here?”

“No, I didn’t want to bother him. I went to the doctor again this morning and insisted he find out what’s wrong with me. I didn’t know he was going to send me over here. I hated to make Fred leave work, and I figured I could at least drive myself.” She sighed. “But now I’m exhausted.”

Alice studied her friend’s pale face and the dark circles
under her eyes. “You look exhausted. How long have you been waiting?”

Vera checked her watch. “About thirty minutes.”

“When did you last eat?”

Vera shrugged. “Breakfast.”

“Okay.” Alice stood up. “You stay right here.”

Vera made a half smile. “Where do you think I’d go?”

Alice patted her shoulder. “I’m going to find out what the holdup is.”

Alice spoke to the lab nurse and managed to speed things up a little. Then, after delivering the blood test results upstairs, she set off to the cafeteria to get Vera something to eat. It was not long before the lab tests were completed and Vera was munching on a bran muffin and drinking some orange juice that Alice had taken her.

“I wonder if you should have a nap before you try to drive home,” said Alice. “Or maybe I should call Fred.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine.”

Alice studied her friend and shook her head. “You don’t look fine, Vera. You should lie down for a bit.” After Vera finished her snack, Alice took her to an empty room and made her rest.

“I feel like a preschooler,” said Vera as Alice covered her with a blanket.

“That’s just fine,” said Alice. “Better a preschooler
than a wreck on the highway. I don’t want you to leave until I see you again. I’ll try to get the results from your lab tests by then.”

Vera sleepily thanked her, and Alice set off to finish her shift, wondering if she should take Vera home herself. As she checked on patients and gave meds, she prayed for Vera, asking God to give the doctor and lab workers real clarity about what was ailing her dear friend. But when she went back to the lab, they didn’t seem to know any more than they had before.

“Her doctor may come up with something more,” the technician said. “But from what I’ve seen everything looks pretty normal.”

“Well, I guess that’s good,” said Alice. “If nothing else, it should reassure Vera to know that nothing terrible is wrong.”

Vera was not reassured. “I know you think that’s good news,” she said as Alice walked her to her car. “But we still don’t know what’s wrong. And if we don’t know what’s wrong, then how do we fix it?”

She paused in front of her car, fiddling with her keys. “You know that my mom and my aunt both died from cancer when they were about my age.”

Alice nodded. “You’ve told me that before. But that doesn’t mean you—”

“It runs in families.”

“The lab tests didn’t show anything abnormal.”

“They missed it in my mom and my aunt too,” said Vera.

“Medicine wasn’t nearly as evolved then,” Alice reassured her. “They missed a lot of things.”

“It still happens,” said Vera. “I’ve read stories in the paper.”

Alice hugged her friend. “Well, it’s not going to happen to you. We’re going to get you through this, Vera. Now, remember what you’re always telling me. Instead of worrying, go to God. Ask Him to lead you through this and to make you well. That’s what I’m doing.”

Vera nodded and opened her car door. “You’re a good friend, Alice.”

“Now, you’re sure you can drive home?”

“Yes, you did a good job of taking care of me. I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.” She smiled. “In fact, I feel better than I’ve felt all day. Maybe the doctors are right. Maybe nothing is wrong.”

Alice was not completely convinced as she walked back toward the hospital. Still, she would take her own advice and keep praying. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she prayed, “please take care of Vera and encourage her heart. Touch her with Your healing hands and show the doctors how best
to help her get well. And show me how to be the best kind of friend to her. Amen.”

Finally it was five o’clock. Alice was relieved to go home. For some reason, Mondays always felt like the longest workday to her. She knew the house would be quiet again since all the guests had checked out, and they were not expecting any more until the middle of the week. Alice and her sisters had learned to appreciate having their house to themselves for a few days at the beginning of the week. But it was never long before they would look forward to sharing their home again, to meeting new friends and to busying themselves with the happy chores that came with running a bed and breakfast.

When Alice got home, she saw a strange car parked in front. Slightly disappointed to think that they had guests, she decided to go in through the back door.

“Who’s here?” she asked Jane as she set down her handbag and peeked into the pot that Jane was stirring. It looked like vegetable soup and smelled deliciously of basil and garlic.

“Unexpected guest.” Jane replaced the lid and turned the gas down. “She just called this morning. Seems she was in need of a quiet break and found us on the Web site and drove on down. She just got here. Louise is showing her to the Sunrise Room.”

Alice smiled. “My room?”

Jane nodded. “Yes, we think that’s the most peaceful room.”

Each sister had chosen the décor for one of the guest bedrooms. Jane had decorated the fourth guest room, the Garden Room, as she imagined her mother would have done it.

Alice reached for one of Jane’s homemade breadsticks. “I must admit I was looking forward to no guests today.”

“Me too.” Jane was now shredding lettuce for a salad. “But she seems nice. Her name is Susan Newby. Apparently her husband’s out of the country on business and her job was making her crazy, plus she has a grown daughter and grandbaby living with her, and she just needed to get away.”

“Poor woman.” Alice finished off the breadstick. “Well, I hope she enjoys her stay.”

“I invited her to have dinner with us.”

“Good. May I help you with anything?”

“No, you go on and change. Put your feet up for a bit. Louise promised to set the table.”

“Thanks, I’m feeling a little tired.”

Jane’s brows lifted. “Too tired to read from Father’s journal tonight?”

Alice smiled. “Actually, that’s one thing I have been looking forward to all day.”

“Oh good. So have I.”

Alice not only put her feet up, but also managed to take a little snooze before dinner. When she went downstairs she was feeling refreshed, and she was eager to meet their unexpected guest.

“Where are you from?” she asked Susan after grace had been said.

“Philadelphia,” said Susan.

“It turns out that Susan grew up in the same neighborhood where Eliot lived as a boy,” explained Louise.

Jane passed the salad to Alice.

“Of course, with a common name like Smith, it is hard to know if her parents would have known Eliot’s folks anyway,” continued Louise. “It is funny, I always thought that when I married it would be to someone with a more exotic name. Something more interesting than Howard—not that I dislike the name Howard.” Louise shook her head. “Then I went and married a man named Smith.”

Jane laughed. “What were you thinking?”

Louise smiled. “That I was in love.”

“It was worth the name?” Jane asked teasingly.

“Very much so.” Louise turned her attention back to Susan. “Not that it matters, since most of Eliot’s family have passed on now, but what was your family’s name?”

“Graves,” said Susan.

Alice felt a ripple of interest go through her. “Graves?” she repeated.

“Yes,” said Susan as she helped herself to another bread-stick. “These are delicious, Jane. Do you give out recipes?”

Jane grinned. “I’m in the process of putting together a Grace Chapel Inn cookbook.”

“What a good idea.” Susan sighed. “I think you women have it all figured out just perfectly.” She glanced around the elegant pale green dining room and at the pretty bouquet on the table. “What a wonderful way to live. I’ve dreamed of running a bed and breakfast someday—after Tom and I retire.” She paused and rolled her eyes. “Believe me, a bed and breakfast sounds especially blissful right now. My daughter Katy is staying with us until her husband comes home from the military and, let me tell you, her little Jamie is really a handful.”

“How old is your grandson?” asked Jane.

“Two and a half.” Susan groaned. “The terrible twos—he’s into absolutely everything. And, naturally, Katy and I don’t agree about how to raise children at all. It’s not that I want her to spank him or anything, but if she could just
contain
him. When he broke a crystal vase that Tom and I received as a wedding present, it was the last straw. I had put it up high, too. I still can’t believe that vase survived
my own three children and thirty-three years of marriage, but in a matter of seconds was destroyed by my only grandson.”

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