The Scent of Lilacs (10 page)

A
unt Love plopped her purse down on the table beside the stairs and said, “Thirteen. Your sister is thirteen. And you’d better sit down before you faint. I think there was some ham left over at breakfast. Maybe some applesauce. You need something besides potato chips to eat. And who in heaven’s name is this DeeDee you keep talking about? Surely not your mother,” Aunt Love said.

Tabitha looked at Aunt Love as if she’d shaken her out of a dream. “You’re not the same. I don’t remember you at all. Should I?”

Aunt Love stopped in front of her on the way to the kitchen. “I saw you a few times when you were a child. Nothing you’d have any reason to remember. I was never anybody’s favorite aunt.”

“Aunt Love. I knew a girl in California who wanted everybody to call her Love, but her name was actually Edith. Is that really your name—Love?”

“Lovella. I don’t know where my mother came up with it. It’s not a respectable Bible name like yours. Tabitha also called Dorcas.” Aunt Love gently pushed Tabitha toward the couch. “Now sit. You’ve had a long trip, and you can’t tell us everything tonight. You’ll be staying awhile, I’m guessing.”

“Awhile, and I am zonked. From my head bone to my big toe bones.” Tabitha sank down on the couch and kicked off her sandals. The straps had made deep marks across the tops of her feet. She stretched her legs out in front of her and wiggled toes with bright
red toenails. She didn’t bother trying to hide a yawn. “Does the rest of the house look the same too? I mean, is the same rose-covered bedspread on the bed? I used to think I could smell those roses when I lay on it.”

“No, somebody gave us a log cabin patch quilt I use as a bedspread. I sleep there now,” Jocie said. “But your stuff’s still in the closet. The rose bedspread is probably in there somewhere too.”

“What about your old bedroom?”

“Dad’s now,” Jocie said. “Aunt Love’s in the bedroom down here.”

“Oh, of course,” Tabitha said, but she looked disappointed. “Not a problem. I’m used to sleeping on the couch. Most of our apartments only had one bedroom. That’s all DeeDee could afford.”

“There you go with the DeeDee again,” Aunt Love said as she handed Tabitha a plate of ham and biscuits and applesauce. She sat a glass of lemonade on the glass-covered coffee table in front of the couch. “Is that some modern name for mothers in California?”

Tabitha laughed. “You’re funny.”

“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine,” Aunt Love said.

“The Bible again, I presume,” Tabitha said.

“You’ll get used to it,” Jocie said. “But do kids call their mothers DeeDee in California?”

“No, no. That doesn’t have anything to do with California. That happened in Chicago right after we left. DeeDee told everybody we were sisters, so I couldn’t very well keep calling her Mama. She threatened to send me back a hundred times before I got used to it, but I can’t imagine calling DeeDee Mama now.”

“I prayed she’d send you back. Every day. A dozen times a day,” David said.

“Well, I guess your prayers finally got answered.” Tabitha took a sip of lemonade and pinched a crumb off the biscuit as if testing the food to be sure it was safe.

“Mine too,” Jocie said. “I’ve been saying the sister prayer for
years. That and the dog prayer, and now I’ve got Zeb and you both in two days.”

“The sister prayer?” Tabitha laughed again. “You guys are hilarious. DeeDee said I’d need to pack my sense of humor along with me if I was going to survive around here.” She took another nibble of the biscuit and then sat the plate down on the coffee table. “I’m really not very hungry. Too many chips I guess, but the lemonade is delicious. Thank you, Aunt Love.”

“She must have remembered to put sugar in it,” Jocie muttered. David frowned at her, but she was saved by the phone ringing. “That’ll be the church.”

The phone rang again before David stood up to answer it. Maybe it would be better to just let it ring and wait until the next morning to find out the verdict. He didn’t want anything ruining Tabitha’s homecoming, but the rings kept on, demanding he answer it. As he moved slowly toward the phone on the little table by the door, he heard Jocie explaining to Tabitha about the church and the vote for him to be interim pastor.

“You mean Daddy’s actually still preaching?” Tabitha said. “DeeDee didn’t think he’d still be preaching, you know, because of the divorce and all. She said people in Hollyhill aren’t very tolerant. Not like they are in California. Nobody cares how many times you’ve been married or even if you’re married or not out there. Of course, I don’t know about preachers. I’m not sure they even have preachers.”

“Of course they have preachers in California,” Aunt Love said shortly.

“You think so? I never met one if they do,” Tabitha said. “And you’d think I would have. I mean, don’t preachers go around advertising what they do? You know, saying things like ‘Come to my church,’ ‘Believe in God or else,’ ‘Stop doing anything fun,’ that sort of thing.”

“My heavens, child. What a thing to say,” Aunt Love said.

“Oh dear, I’ve shocked you,” Tabitha said. “DeeDee said I’d have to be careful about that too. That my mouth would get me in trouble double-quick in Hollyhill.”

David wanted to let the phone ring, turn around, and get Tabitha out of hot water, but if it was Matt McDermott, he’d think something was wrong if David didn’t answer the phone and like as not would make the trip over here to be sure they hadn’t had car trouble on the way home. Just today he’d told David that prayer was surely all that was keeping the wheels on David’s car rolling. The old car had been making funny noises lately. Even Wes had been on him to get a new car, had told him he needed a dating car now that Leigh Jacobson was giving him the eye.

David pushed that thought away. He didn’t have time to worry about new modes of transportation tonight. Or Leigh Jacobson. It was enough that Adrienne’s memory had walked back into the house along with Tabitha, as sharp and piercing as the day she’d left. What he really needed was to go sit on the rock fence out back, look up at the stars until their sparkle calmed his soul, and let God help him make some sense of what was happening. But the phone kept ringing, surely on the twentieth ring by now. Tabitha was still talking. Aunt Love had started quoting Scripture. And he couldn’t even whisper a prayer before he said, “Hello.”

“Oh, good, you’re there,” Matt McDermott said. “I called earlier without an answer and was about to get afeared you were broke down somewhere.”

David couldn’t read anything in his voice. Matt was such a steady man that good and bad news would probably sound the same, something to be dealt with either way. “We were outside for a while.” He thought about telling him Tabitha had come home, but that would mean too much explaining. Better to just find out the vote and get it over with.

“I guess the girl had to see to her dog. If I’d known she wanted
a dog, I could have rounded one up for her. Somebody’s always trying to get rid of pups.”

“I think she’s happy with the mutt that showed up here. But what about the vote? Am I preaching at Mt. Pleasant next Sunday?”

Matt hesitated before he said, “I’m thinking that might be up to you, Brother David.”

“So I didn’t get the vote.” David tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. How could he be disappointed about anything tonight with the daughter he had feared he might never see again sitting on the couch behind him?

“Well, you the same as did. It turned out eighty-eight point six percent, which is near the same as ninety, and would have been ninety if Stella Hoskins hadn’t got the bug this afternoon. She’s been telling everybody that you’re God’s answer to our prayers here at Mt. Pleasant. Somebody who’d know how to minister to the young and old alike. She called me a little bit ago and asked if she couldn’t register her vote over the phone, but I figured it was too late for it to officially count, you know. Maybe if she’d called before church, but she said she was too busy losing her dinner to call then. Still, unofficially, I think you can be sure you got ninety percent.”

“That’s reaching a little,” David said.

“Maybe, but it’s a reach I hope—that ninety percent of the people at Mt. Pleasant hope—you’ll make.” Matt McDermott emphasized the ninety percent.

“Eighty-eight point six,” David said.

It was suddenly quiet on the couch behind him. And then Jocie was at his elbow, whispering, “That rounds off to ninety.”

He pointed her back to the couch. He couldn’t decide now. But he wouldn’t say no yet either. “I’ll pray about it and let you know tomorrow,” he told Matt.

“Well, I’d rather you just went ahead and said yes now, but a deacon can’t argue with a preacher who wants to pray. Fact of the
matter is, we shouldn’t even have voted on this now. The pulpit committee could’ve just appointed you interim.”

“I requested a vote.”

“I know, and I understood where you were coming from on it. No need arguing that now.” Matt let out a deep breath that whooshed over the phone lines. “So you pray about it, Brother David, and I’ll be praying you decide to let the vote be near enough. It isn’t but a baby step away. But if the good Lord leads you in another direction, you know I won’t cancel my subscription to the
Hollyhill Banner
or anything. And you can still bring your girl out to go fishing in my pond whenever you want.”

“That’s good to hear,” David said with a smile. “The
Banner
can’t afford to lose any subscribers or me any fishing holes.”

After a few more words, David hung up and turned back toward the couch. Jocie looked nearly ready to explode, but he shook his head at her. “God’s the only one I’m talking to about it tonight. Pray tonight. Think tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Jocie said with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter to me anyway. If you don’t take it, I won’t have to try to be nice to Ronnie Martin.”

“Being nice to people you don’t like is good for your Christian character,” Aunt Love said. “But your father is right. We’re all tired, and poor Tabitha is exhausted. We need to fix her a bed and let her rest.”

Tabitha’s eyes had drooped shut several times while David had been on the phone. “Sorry, crew. I don’t mean to be a wet blanket, but I need some shut-eye,” she said. “Get me a pillow and a blanket and I’ll be set right here.”

“Why don’t you sleep in your old room?” Jocie said. “I can sleep out on the back porch. You know, I’ve been thinking about asking to sleep out there this summer anyway. It’s cooler with the windows open.”

“That’s sweet of you, Jocie.” David figured she planned on sneaking the dog in as soon as she heard the first snore, but he’d feign
ignorance for now. Maybe the bath she’d given the mutt the day before had gotten rid of any fleas. And the fact was, David wasn’t capable of one more decision on this night.

Jocie led Tabitha off to the bathroom and her bedroom. Aunt Love went off to the kitchen to rattle pans. David didn’t know what she was doing. Sometimes he doubted if Aunt Love knew what she was doing. But if it helped her to rattle a pan, then he wasn’t going to complain about a little noise.

David sat on the couch and let his household settle around him. He supposed he should pray, but his soul was too weary. He tried not to even think, but then Tabitha laughed upstairs in the bedroom and it was Adrienne’s laugh. Adrienne laughing at him when he’d talked about having another baby when Tabitha was five. Adrienne saying she’d never go through what she went through with Tabitha again. Then two years later his elation to find out she was expecting followed by the rage when he caught her concocting some poisonous brew she hoped would make her miscarry.

There had been no laughter in the house for a long time after that. For months Adrienne had refused to come out of their bedroom or to let him in. He had slept on the back porch on the cot then and wondered at times if the stars he could see through the tall windows were all that kept him sane. He could have broken down the bedroom door, had considered it at least once every day during the last months before Jocie was born, but his mother, whom Adrienne allowed to carry meals to her, had said she was well physically and would surely regain some emotional stability once the baby came.

When the labor pains had started, she’d refused to go to the hospital. Dr. Markum had made a home delivery with David’s mother’s help. Two days later Adrienne had handed the screaming baby to him and said, “You wanted her. She’s yours. Her name is Jocelyn. It’s not in the Bible. I made sure before I picked it.”

He’d agreed to the terms, all the terms—sleeping on the couch
to better hear Jocie at night, not asking questions when Adrienne was late coming home from Grundy, living separate lives in the same house. A funny thing about hope. Even when there’s not a spot of light in the east, you’re still sure the sun will rise. And hope works like that for the sun, but other things aren’t as sure as the sunrise.

He wondered now if somewhere inside him where he was afraid to look he’d held on to hope that someday not just Tabitha but Adrienne would return. In spite of the long-distance divorce when Adrienne had gotten to Las Vegas. In spite of the boyfriend. In spite of the fact that she’d left him long before she’d gotten in the car and driven away in the middle of the night.

Maybe Wes was right. It was time to move on. But Leigh Jacobson? She was so young. Her face as she’d watched him preach that morning came to mind. Eager. Smiling. Yet somehow anxious too, as though she was already worried about not saying the right thing when she shook his hand on the way out of the church.

He pushed her face away as Jocie came back carrying a pillow and sheets and a blanket for the cot on the porch.

“Are you sure you don’t mind giving up your room?” he asked her.

“No, it’ll be neat out there in the morning when the sun comes up.”

“The stars aren’t bad either,” David said. “I used to sleep out there some years ago. Tabitha okay for the night?”

“Said she was still feeling a little woozy, but she was asleep before I got out of the room. It’s great that she came home, isn’t it, Daddy?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you almost got ninety percent. They do want you, and in another couple of weeks, you’ll probably even get the Martin family to liking you.”