I tried to choke out an explanation of my daughter’s fascination with the story of the sleeping princess while feeling the most mortified I’ve ever been in my entire life. Noah seemed to take it well. He just laughed, patted Charity on the head, and left. I could hear him chuckling all the way to the front door.
A family I didn’t know, sitting at a table near us, found the entire episode very entertaining. I, however, did not.
“Charity Lynn, don’t you ever say something like that again,” I whispered to her. “Prince Phillip is a character in your movie. He isn’t real.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” she said, totally unconcerned about my severe humiliation. “But that man looks just like Prince Phillip. I really think it might be him.”
I sighed, wondering how in the world I could explain to my little girl that there weren’t really princes in the world who ride in on white horses and rescue sleeping princesses. But as I stared into her cherubic face, I just couldn’t do it. “Please don’t say that to anyone else, Cherry Bear. Okay? We’ll have to keep that secret between us.”
That seemed to satisfy her—for the time being. My daughter loved secrets. The idea of having one would keep her quiet for a long time. I wondered if Charity’s inappropriate remark had scared Noah away. I longed for the friend I’d had as a girl. The boy I could tell almost anything to. But Noah wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man, and I was a woman with a child. That old friendship was gone, replaced with polite banter. An almost overwhelming sense of sadness overtook me.
Cora brought our food, which was absolutely delicious. My first bite of her fried chicken reminded me how much I’d loved it when I was younger. Her meatball sub forgotten, Charity proclaimed Cora’s cheeseburger to be the best she’d ever eaten. I’d noticed that she seemed much happier since we’d left Kansas City. I’d expected her to be somewhat insecure about leaving her home and her school, but that hadn’t happened. Thinking about school made me realize that I’d need to make a decision about her education before too much time passed. Since I had no idea how long we’d be in town, I had no choice but to wait for circumstances to guide me in an appropriate path.
I glanced up at the clock on the wall as I finished my last bite of chicken. We’d been in the café for over an hour and a half. Where was my mother? As if answering my silent question, the front door of the restaurant swung open, and she came in, her black cape wrapped tightly around her. As she approached our table, I could tell she’d been crying. She sat down next to me, pulling her chair close.
“I am so sorry, Lizzie,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice soft so no one else could hear. “Your father refuses to allow you to come home.”
Cora had come up next to us, probably to see if she could get my mother anything. She frowned at my Mother’s statement.
“Charity,” Cora said, “would you like to come and see my kitchen? I can show you where I cook all the food. And I might be able to find a nice piece of chocolate cake if your mother will allow you to have it.”
“Chocolate cake,” Charity said breathlessly. “My favorite food in the whole world.”
I could have pointed out that whatever she was eating at the moment was her favorite food in the whole world, but instead, I just nodded. “That sounds great, Cherry Bear. You go with Cora, and I’ll wait here with Grandma.” I gave Cora a look of gratitude, and she smiled.
I waited until Charity was gone. “He’s never going to forgive me, is he? Doesn’t he even want to see his granddaughter? She was only a baby the last time he laid eyes on her.”
“Oh, Lizzie,” my mother said, wiping her eyes with a napkin she picked up from the table. “He is so embittered. Much worse than he was when you left. Truthfully, it would not be good for either one of you to be in our house right now.”
“Well, that’s great. Now I have nowhere to go.” This turn in the road made it perfectly clear that the voice I’d heard telling me to come back to Kingdom wasn’t God. I felt foolish for believing for a minute that He might be interested in my life.
“I do not know what to say, Daughter, but perhaps we can find somewhere else for you and Charity to lodge.”
I grunted. “There aren’t any hotels in Kingdom, Mother. And if Father won’t take me in, I doubt anyone else will.”
“Actually, they would.”
I jumped, not realizing Cora had returned. She stood on the other side of my chair. “Charity’s in the kitchen with her chocolate cake. She’s fine.” Cora sat down in the chair where my daughter had been only a few minutes earlier. “I overheard you say you have no place to stay.” She patted my shoulder. “I have an offer for you, Lizzie. There’s room for you here. In fact, there’s an entire floor upstairs. Most of it’s used for storage right now, but there’s also space for bedrooms. My sister’s stayed there when she’s come to visit. There’s only one bed up there now, but I have a cot in another room. You and Charity should be very comfortable. And with a little cleanin’ and some additional furniture, we can turn that space into a very nice apartment.”
“I-I don’t have much money,” I said slowly. “I’m not sure I can afford it.”
Cora chuckled. “I’m not chargin’ you anything, dear.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You’re offering us a place to live rent free?”
Cora grinned at me. “And you want to know what the catch is?”
I nodded while the wind rocked the building with its bluster. I had no desire to take Charity out in the middle of a winter storm, but at the same time, a familiar sense of suspicion stirred inside me. It fought tooth and nail against that old saying about not looking a gift horse in the mouth.
“The catch is that you’ll work for me, Lizzie. Since Julie left I’ve been tryin’ to run this place by myself, and it’s just too much for me. So I’m offerin’ you a job and a place to live. All your meals will be free, and there aren’t any other bills for you to think about. I can’t pay you much, but since you won’t be buyin’ food, payin’ rent, or worryin’ about utility payments, I’m confident you’ll do just fine.” She frowned at me. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any experience workin’ in a restaurant.”
I burst out laughing. “Yes, lots in fact.” I briefly told her about my stint at Betty’s.
Cora clapped her hands together. “How wonderful.” She reached over and grabbed my hand. “It was meant to be, Lizzie. Isn’t God good?”
I nodded dumbly, not knowing what else to say. So God had brought me to Kingdom to be a waitress? Great. That sounded about right.
Then, realizing that Charity and I weren’t going to be thrown out into the snowstorm, I instantly felt ashamed of myself.
“Thank you, Cora. I’ll gladly accept your offer. You have my gratitude.”
She smiled. “And you have mine. I know we’ll become great friends. And it’s actually fun workin’ here. There are still residents in Kingdom who refuse to darken my door . . .” She hesitated a moment. “Like your father,” she said finally. “But for the most part, I’ve been accepted by the entire town. Even those who are a little more strict in their beliefs.”
My mother sighed, looking around the charming, cozy restaurant. “This is the first time I have been inside in all these years. Not quite the den of iniquity my husband made it out to be.”
Cora nodded. “Just families comin’ in to eat. I wish Matthew would give us a chance. He might actually enjoy gatherin’ together with his neighbors.”
My first thought was to ask Cora if she’d ever actually met my father, but I let it go. He certainly wasn’t the “gathering together with his neighbors” type. Not unless someone was being burned at the stake.
“I hope he will do that someday, Cora,” Mother said. “But this is not a good time for him. Or for our church.”
Cora raised one eyebrow. “I have to say I’m hopin’ these changes will actually bring us closer to God. To who God really is.”
Mother shook her head. “I am afraid my husband does not see it that way. He believes the influence of the world will destroy us—that those who are promoting change will ruin Kingdom from the inside out.”
“And what do you believe, Anna?” Cora asked.
Mother’s eyelids fluttered at the question. She wasn’t used to being asked her opinion. Was she already regretting her honesty with me earlier? Would she speak her mind in front of Cora?
Mother stared down at the table, running her fingers, reddened by work and weather, along the grain pattern in the wood. “It is my job to support my husband in whatever he does,” she said softly. “But . . .”
She was silent for a moment, while Cora and I waited for her to continue. When she spoke, her voice trembled with emotion. “I lost my daughter and my granddaughter because of my husband’s beliefs.” She looked up, her eyes shiny with tears. “I must confess that I cannot believe that was God’s will. I have been praying . . .” She gave me a tremulous smile. “I have been asking God for a sign that it isn’t too late to have Elizabeth Lynn and Charity back in my life, and now they are here.” She shook her head. “I must believe this is God’s answer. That He has heard me.”
She covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath. Then she put her hands down and glanced up at the clock on the wall. A look of panic crossed her face, and she quickly rose to her feet. “Matthew will be furious with me if I do not get home and make his dinner.” She rested her small fingers on Cora’s shoulder. “Thank you, my dear friend, for being an answer to prayer. I will never forget your kindness.”
She looked at me, a single tear running slowly down her cheek. “I will find some things from the house to bring to you. Warm blankets, sheets, towels, whatever you might need.” She straightened up to her entire five-foot height, her back ramrod straight, her expression determined. “I cannot come back on Monday because I have promised to work on a quilt with some of the ladies in the church, but I will return on Tuesday, Lizzie, no matter what your father says. And I will spend time with you and my granddaughter. In fact, we will have lunch together in this wonderful place. That is, if you will have me, Cora.”
Cora’s smile almost split her face in two. “I would be honored, Anna. And since your daughter now works for me, all meals for her family are on me.”
My mother looked puzzled.
“‘On me’ means your meals are free,” I explained.
Mother looked aghast. “Oh no. I could not—”
“Now, Anna,” Cora said, standing up and facing her, “your daughter will earn every meal she and Charity eat, as well as yours. Trust me.”
Mother considered this. “I will accept,” she said with hesitation. “You have my thanks. I do not have many funds of my own and know that asking my husband for money to spend here would certainly bring a rebuke.”
A sense of guilt swept through me when Mother spoke of money. I still hadn’t apologized for taking what she’d managed to scrape together when I left. I couldn’t do it now, with Cora listening, but I planned to apologize the first chance I got.
Mother came over and kissed me on the cheek. Then she hugged Charity.
“Bye, Grandma,” Charity said. “Can you bring more butter cookies when you come back?”
Mother laughed. “Yes, I will do that.” She smiled at all of us. “I was so distraught when I first arrived, and I feel so much better now. God’s hand is evident, and I will thank Him for His provision tonight in my prayers. May He bless you all.”
She hurried toward the front door, but the wind made it hard for her to pull it open. A man I didn’t know rose from his table and held the door for her, shutting it after she was safely on the sidewalk.
“I hate to see her drive that buggy all the way home in this weather,” I said to Cora.
“She’ll be fine, child. Besides, there’s no other way for her to reach her destination. You know she won’t accept a ride in your car or mine. Trust me, I’ve offered transportation many times to some of these folks when the weather was bad. People like your parents just won’t take it.”
“So one of those cars outside is yours?”
She nodded. “Yep, that canary yellow job. Bought it from a guy in Washington about a year ago. And don’t think there weren’t some terse statements from folks in the church when I drove it home.”
“Cora, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Sure, honey. You can ask me anything.”
“Do . . . do you still believe in God?”
She chuckled. “Do you think buyin’ a yellow car means I don’t love God anymore?”
“No, of course not. But you’re obviously living your life outside the boundaries of the church.”
She smiled kindly. “Lizzie, I didn’t lose God when I quit livin’ the way a group of men told me to. God is bigger than that. I follow Him now without any help from the elders, and I’ve never been happier.”
“Really?”
“Darlin’, I may not walk into that building at the end of the block on Sundays, but I found out that God is much larger and more gracious than most folks give Him credit for.” She frowned at me. “Look, people can act however they want; I don’t make that my business. But I don’t intend to allow anyone except the Holy Spirit to tell me how to run my life. I’ve discovered that God loves me just the way I am. And He doesn’t care if I drive a car or ride in a buggy. He cares about my heart. You know, John the Baptist wore camel skins. Maybe I oughta serve folks locusts and wild honey while I’m prancin’ around in animal skins. Think that would generate some interest from the elders?” She guffawed like she’d just said the funniest thing in the world.
Charity giggled along with her, although I was certain she had no idea what she was laughing about.
Cora’s jovial expression gradually turned more serious. “Honey, one of these days you’ll figure out that your heavenly Father isn’t much like your earthly father. I’m sorry to say somethin’ harsh about your daddy, but it’s just the plain truth. God loves you, and He’s not judgin’ you.” She reached over and patted my arm. “In fact, I like to think God carries around our pictures in His wallet and shows them to the angels every so often. ‘Why, look at my Lizzie,’ He says to them. ‘Isn’t she the most wonderful daughter any father could ever have?’”
I shook my head. “I doubt that’s what He’d say about me.”
Cora stood to her feet. “And that’s where the problem is, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna pray that one of these days you’ll understand how powerful the love of a good Father really is.”
I didn’t answer her, but her words struck something raw in my heart. More than anything I wanted to believe that God still loved me, but I’d done many wrong things and spoken rebelliously to Him more than once. I had no faith that He would listen to me even if I decided to talk to Him again.
“God is a righteous God, Elizabeth Lynn. He can’t hear the voices of sinners.”
“Looks like someone’s gettin’ sleepy,” Cora said. Sure enough, Charity’s eyelids were drooping, though she was fighting the approach of bedtime for all she was worth. I, for one, couldn’t wait to close my eyes.
“Let me help you clean up,” I said. The last of Cora’s customers had gone, but several tables still held dirty dishes.
“Nonsense,” she huffed. “You two are goin’ to bed. Tomorrow is Sunday and the restaurant is closed, so sleep late. We’ll do some work upstairs after a good night’s rest. You’ve both had a long day.”
I wanted to argue with her, but my tired body won out over my good intentions. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for us, Cora. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to repay you.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’d better wait until the Friday-night dinner rush is over. You may not feel the same way.”
I got up and helped my sleepy daughter out of her chair. “If you had people lined up for a mile, waiting to get in, I’d still feel very fortunate.”
“Oh, Lizzie,” Cora said, putting her arm around my shoulders, “I’m only a vessel. God sent you here for a good reason. And before you leave this place, you’ll know why. I’m just honored to be a part of it.”
Charity and I followed her upstairs. My mind kept playing her words over and over. “God sent you here for a reason. And before you leave this place, you’ll know why.” Was it possible God really hadn’t deserted me? Had He actually led me to Kingdom? I prayed silently as we mounted the stairs to our new home. Please, God. If you’re listening, and if you care anything about me at all, please help me to find my way. I’m not asking just for me. I’m asking for Charity too.
For the first time in years, a small flame of hope ignited deep within my heart. But with it came a warning. Hoping for good things had brought only pain in my life. Would the path I was on lead to even more disappointment?