The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (6 page)

“
That makes sense. I’ll
have to work on ways to keep the chorus involved in the entire
show.” She frowned. “And I’ll talk to the boys’
grandmother.”

“
No, you leave Martha to
me. Martha isn’t going to listen to a young girl like you. She
might not listen to me, either, but I have an idea. Just plan your
practice and I’ll be at the church before your rehearsal
starts.”

~~~~

By the following
Wednesday, Sophie had found ways to incorporate
the entire group in more of the show, thanks to suggestions from
Joey’s music teacher. She couldn’t wait to see what Mrs. VanMeter
had planned.

At exactly five fifty-seven, the twins
entered the building. If their double stomping footsteps hadn’t
signaled her, the high-pitched screeches would have. She heard
their grandmother admonishing them to be quiet and hang their coats
up. Sophie had seen the way they hung their coats — on the floor
beneath the pegs.

At five fifty-nine, the stampede entered the
choir room. She heard a pinging noise just before the candle
arrangement on top of the piano toppled to the floor. Another ping
sounded, followed by a crack as a tiny missile hit the music stand,
sending several sheets of music to the floor.

Sophie took a deep breath, preparing for
another confrontation with the twin tornadoes. But before she could
say a thing, a stern voice rang out.

“
Joshua Longton, come here
this instant!”

She turned. Martha Longton stood in the
doorway. Sophie spotted Agnes VanMeter behind her. The twins’
grandmother had her hands at her hips and a no-nonsense expression.
Josh actually froze. And then the child started walking to his
grandma. Slowly. Sniffling. He knew he was in trouble. His brother,
who had started running up the side aisle with his own slingshot,
watched his twin with a mixture of fear and relief that it wasn’t
him walking the plank toward his judge and jury. Sophie noticed he
slowly, carefully slid his slingshot into his back pants pocket
before walking to his seat in the chorus. But he didn’t quite reach
his place.

“
Jordan! Bring your
slingshot over here. You’ll get it back when I see you can behave
yourself.”

With a groan, Jordan returned to the
doorway. Grandma took both slingshots and put them in her purse.
Then she and Agnes sat in the back of the room.

Sophie couldn’t believe her
eyes. Grandma Longton
and
Mrs. VanMeter were staying?
She began the rehearsal, thankful for the extra sets of eyes
and ears. Even if they only stayed for part of the rehearsal, she
could get something done. The kids sang, adding the motions Sophie
had taught them at the previous rehearsal. But when they got to the
speaking parts, things fell apart. The narrator forgot to bring her
script and couldn’t remember what she was going to say. Sophie
tried coaching her, but a scream from the front row stopped
everything.

“
Jordan poked me!” a little
redhead cried.

The towhead turned wide, innocent eyes
toward Sophie. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

“
Yes, you did. You poked
me.”

“
I saw it. He did poke
her,” added an older girl from behind them.

“
Nu-uh. I didn’t do
it.”

“
You’re the only one on
that side of me. It must’a been you,” the redhead
insisted.

“
Nope. It was my
finger.”

Before she could say or do anything, Jordan
was lifted off his seat and dragged away.

“
Jordan Michael Longton,
I’m ashamed of you,” Martha Longton exclaimed as she ushered her
grandson toward the door. “Poking girls and then lying about it.
Everyone could see you were doing it. You don’t deserve to be here
with the rest of the children.”

“
But it wasn’t me, it was
my finger!” Jordan’s voice had a little less confidence behind it
than it had earlier.

“
Don’t give me that
nonsense. Your father used the same excuse when he was your age.
Did he teach you that?” Martha’s scolding continued as she took her
grandson out into the hallway and shut the door.

Sophie breathed a sigh of
relief. Bringing Martha had been a great idea.
Thanks, Mrs. VanMeter
.
She wondered about Jordan’s brother. But a glance
at him told her he wouldn’t be a problem. At least not anytime
soon. Josh sat quietly in his spot, staring straight ahead.
Apparently he wanted to avoid his brother’s fate.

She wondered what it would take to get
Martha Longton to attend all the rehearsals.

~~~~

Mitch leaned over
his computer keyboard and checked the copy on his
advertisement for the local paper. Satisfied with his wording, he
clicked to submit it. After having coffee with Sophie the previous
week, he’d done some research on mini-sessions and had decided to
give it a try. His first ad had appeared in Monday’s paper, and
he’d already fielded at least half dozen calls about it. Four had
resulted in bookings, enough to make it worth running a second ad.
He could devote two evenings a week to doing mini-sessions from now
through November and make a healthy profit. But he needed to stay
away from Wednesday evenings. There was no way he’d chance showing
up late to pick up Angie again. He double-checked his phone to make
sure his reminder alarm was set. If his mother-in-law wanted to
accuse him of being an unfit parent, he had no intention of giving
her any ammunition.

It had taken almost three months, but he was
finally starting to feel comfortable in Zutphen. When he took Angie
to the church, the people there had greeted him with welcoming
smiles, especially those who’d had contact with his daughter. And
it seemed each time he went into Zylstra’s, someone would recognize
and greet him. Coming to rural west Michigan, his thought had been
to escape the pain of his previous life. But now it seemed he’d
found a home. A safe haven for him and his daughter.

The thought made him smile. He’d never been
one for homespun sentiments, but maybe it was time for him to
embrace them.

Mitch tightened the
knot on his tie. The action seemed symbolic of
tightening a noose around his own throat. He had never thought he’d
be going to another church service. Sending his daughter to Sunday
School with the VandenBerg family was one thing, but attending a
service with her was quite another. But for his little girl, he’d
do almost anything, and she wanted to go to the Big Church with him
on Sunday, so he’d agreed to go.

Angie sat on his bed, dressed in a new
outfit his mother had helped her pick out. Her hair was neatly
combed, though he noticed the curls were somewhat uneven. She
opened and closed her little purse to make sure she had everything
she needed. He wasn’t sure what a six-year-old would need for a
church service, but he knew her two grandmas would have instructed
her.

“
Are you almost ready,
Daddy?” she asked. “Jennie says it starts at nine
o’clock.”

“
I’m almost ready,
sweetheart, and we’re not going to be late. The church is only ten
minutes away.”

“
Sunday School is after
church. There’s four other girls from my class at school. And
there’s no boys, so it’s more fun.”

Mitch held in his laughter. Her views on
boys would change soon enough. For now, her distaste for boys was
good.

“
Miss Sophie is going to
work on our Christmas Pageant songs with us during the first part
of Sunday School. She’s so pretty. I think she’s the prettiest lady
in the whole world.”

“
Mmm.” He wasn’t inclined
to disagree.

“
Daddy?”

“
What,
sweetheart?”

“
Your tie looks
funny.”

He looked in the mirror. He’d
triple-knotted, and the resulting knot was twice as large as it
needed to be. He sighed and unwound the fabric so he could start
over.

~~~~

The little church
looked like it belonged on a postcard. Set on the
western edge of Zutphen, it held bragging rights as the highest
point in town, thanks to its gleaming white steeple. The building
was actually much bigger than it looked at first sight, due to
modern additions off to the side and the back of the church, but
they didn’t detract from the storybook impression it made to
passersby.

As Mitch pulled into the parking lot, his
heart beat faster and his throat tightened. The last time he’d been
inside a church had been for Sarah’s funeral service. Aside from
his feelings of grief and loss, there had been the disapproving
stares from his mother-in-law. Though he’d had nothing to do with
his wife’s death, Melinda had blamed him. If he’d been a good
provider, she’d said, Sarah wouldn’t have felt the need to pursue a
career. Never mind the fact that Sarah had never depended on him
for anything. She made her own decisions, and a career was what
she’d wanted. And she’d had it, until that drunk motorist had run
her down while she’d been filming a segment for the evening
news.

“
Daddy?”

Mitch blinked and realized he’d parked the
car and turned off the ignition but sat staring at the big wooden
doors. Angie regarded him from the back seat with a worried frown.
“Are you okay? If you’re sick we can go home. I’ll learn the songs
next Wednesday.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine, sweetie.
Let’s go.”

Entering the sanctuary reawakened the
butterflies in his stomach. He took deep, calming breaths and told
himself he could do this. Holding his daughter’s hand, he followed
the usher to a pew in the middle and let Angie sit first. Angie
beamed to find herself sitting by a classmate, and Mitch bent to
whisper a reminder to behave and keep her voice down. “Pretend
you’re at Nana Billingsworth’s house at dinnertime,” he murmured.
Angie rewarded him with an understanding nod.

The organist finished playing the prelude,
and a relatively young pastor, identifying himself as the Pastor
Joe, the Youth Director, welcomed everyone and asked the
congregation to rise for the opening hymn.

As he rose, Mitch noted a flash of bright
pink on the other side of the aisle. He glanced over and his gaze
connected with a familiar pair of green eyes. Sophie nodded then
faced the front to join in the singing. She sat next to a tall,
dark-haired man, and a boy about Angie’s age sat on the other side
of the man. Was that her brother-in-law, or was he someone special
in Sophie’s life?

Though the outside of the church presented a
traditional front, the inside spoke of fresh, contemporary design
and modern conveniences. Well-worn Bibles and hymnals sat in the
pockets on the back of the pews, but the words to the songs they
sang were projected on a large retracting screen in front. The
organist who had played the prelude stepped away from the organ to
an electric keyboard, where she joined a trio of singers and a
percussionist. The songs they led were a mixture of contemporary
and traditional, and the entire congregation, young and old, sang
with a gusto he hadn’t experienced since he had photographed a
documentary of a televangelist.

So far, so good.
No one had confronted him about anything he’d
done. Nobody had blamed him for any world catastrophes. He hadn’t
been questioned about his suitability for appearing there. He could
do this. For Angie.

The song service ended, and an older
gentleman identifying himself as Pastor Sikkema rose to give his
sermon. It seemed the man spoke to him, because the lesson was
about finding lost sheep and returning them to the fold. Angie
snuggled into his left side, and he relished the warmth of his baby
girl as he listened to the scripture he’d heard so many times
before, yet it was like hearing them for the first time. He knew
he’d go to any lengths to keep her safe. Maybe that’s what the
pastor was talking about. Maybe that’s what Uncle Eric intended
when he’d offered the house to him. By giving Mitch a place to
settle down, he’d protected him from going bonkers in the big
city.

Afterward, the congregation rose to sing the
closing hymn.

Angie brought him through a hallway to the
choir room. “This is where we have our practice, Daddy.”

“
Okay. Is this where I pick
you up? What time should I be here?”

“
Yes, this would be a good
place to come. We should be finished by noon. And you’re welcome to
stay, if you like.” A statuesque blonde with bright blue eyes and
an equally bright smile came up to him, holding out her hand. “I’m
Patrice Feenstra, Angie’s Sunday School teacher. You must be her
dad, the photographer.”

Mitch took the proffered hand. “Mitch
Carson. I’ll pass for now, if it’s okay. I need to set up my
equipment for a couple of appointments tomorrow. But I’ll be right
here no later than noon.”

He turned to find his way to the exit when
he spied her again. This time she was talking to another tall blond
guy. There certainly was no shortage of men fitting that
description in the predominantly Dutch community. He wondered who
the guy was. They seemed to know each other pretty well. The man
reached for his wallet and pulled out a business card, which Sophie
took with a smile. Mitch felt his stomach clench. Why was he giving
her his phone number? Would she call him?

He shook his head. It was no business of his
whether she called him or not. He really needed to get his head
examined.