After a quiet breakfast with Louise the next morning, Alice spent several hours straightening and organizing the kitchen while Louise made some phone calls. Alice enjoyed the distraction and hoped to get the kitchen whipped into shape before the day became too busy. She remembered how fastidious Jane was about cooking spaces, and Alice feared that she had allowed theirs to get a bit shabby lately. It wasn’t completely her fault, because Father often shooed her off to work in the mornings, assuring her that he would clean up their breakfast things. But his ideas of cleaning weren’t always the same as hers. Still, she had always appreciated his willingness to help out and never would have dreamed of criticizing. It usually turned out that by the time she came home to fix dinner, she was often tired or in a hurry to get to a meeting, and, well, sometimes things just went undone.
She’d been a bit embarrassed yesterday when the first of the women had started slipping food items into their ancient refrigerator. It hadn’t been thoroughly wiped down in ages. She supposed she should have been better prepared, knowing how the women at Grace Chapel always reacted like this whenever someone in their congregation passed away. It was as if they derived a sense of comfort and well-being as they carefully prepared their casseroles, baked goods and gelatin salads for the grieving family. They were probably also relieved not to be the ones on the receiving end. Alice knew that feeling from personal experience. Her standard contribution at times of bereavement was usually macaroni salad. How many times had she concocted that salad, thankful that she had escaped being the recipient of the culinary gifts? Well, no one could escape it forever.
By noon, Alice decided to call it good in the kitchen. She pulled out several of the prepared dishes from the refrigerator and attempted to set the table for a simple lunch.
“Yoo-hoo!” called a shrill voice from the front foyer. “Alice, are you here?”
“I’m in the kitchen, Aunt Ethel,” Alice called out. “Coming.”
Alice met Aunt Ethel in the dining room. Her aunt smiled brightly as she held out a large glass baking dish covered in aluminum foil. “I saw Fred in the hardware store and he asked me to drop this apple cobbler by. Vera baked it early this morning but didn’t have time to bring it by before school started.”
The smell of cinnamon wafted up as Alice took the heavy dish from her aunt. “How sweet of her. Thank you for bringing it by.”
“Is that Louise’s car parked out front?” asked Ethel as she pushed open the swinging doors to the kitchen and peered curiously about.
“Yes, she arrived last night.”
“Oh, goody.” Aunt Ethel clapped her hands like a little girl. “Where is she now?”
“I believe she’s in her room.”
“Well, I’ll just run up and say a quick hello.”
Alice smiled to herself as she wondered if Aunt Ethel had ever said a “quick” hello. She set the cobbler on the butcher-block counter and finished working on her lunch preparations.
“Hello in the house,” called another female voice. This time it came from the back porch.
“Hope,” Alice exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to find you on my back porch.”
Hope Collins smiled sadly. “We heard the news about Pastor Daniel yesterday. We all felt so bad down at the Coffee Shop that we decided to send over his favorite treat.”
Alice nodded. “Blackberry pie.”
Hope handed her the still warm pie. “I’m sure you’ve been deluged with food already.”
“Well, it’s just our way of saying how much we loved that man.” Hope wiped a tear that left a dark mascara smudge on her cheek.
Alice gave Hope’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Father really enjoyed his little visits with you at the Coffee Shop.”
Hope shook her head. “Not nearly as much as I did. I’m sure going to miss him.”
Alice sighed. “I miss him too, Hope. I mean I realize that Father was quite old and I know he was ready to go at anytime, but I still can’t completely believe he’s gone. Even this morning I got up and started to make him a pot of coffee.”
“I know what you mean. Yesterday afternoon, when it got to the time he usually dropped by, I had to remind myself he wasn’t coming in. It’s odd. Just this week he gave me a little book to read about faith growing in times of trial. I was too busy to get to it before, but I’ll make sure I do now.”
Alice remembered how Father had asked her to pray for Hope. He believed she had a genuinely searching heart. “Well, if you ever want to talk about the book with someone …” Alice smiled hopefully. “I’d be happy to do that with you.”
“Oh, that would be so nice. Maybe you could stop in, and we could discuss it.”
“Yes, definitely. I’ll plan on it.”
Hope pushed a stray lock of light brown hair from her eyes. “I better be getting back now. I promised to only be gone a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Hope. For everything.”
Alice could hear Louise and Aunt Ethel talking as she went back into the house. Aunt Ethel was already filling Louise in on all the latest Acorn Hill gossip. “And you remember Lloyd Tynan, don’t you? I think he was a few years ahead of you in school. Well, maybe you hadn’t heard that he’s the mayor now, he retired from his business a few years back and then decided he could do a far better job of running this town than old Billy Thorpe. Billy was a big talker, but lazier than all get out.” Aunt Ethel paused for a breath when Alice walked in.
“Alice,” said Louise with what appeared to be sincere relief, “who was at the door?”
“That was Hope from the Coffee Shop. She dropped by a blackberry pie, Father’s favorite.”
“Did I notice you fixing some lunch?” asked Aunt Ethel.
“Yes.” Alice smiled ruefully at Louise. “Would you like to join us?”
Naturally, Aunt Ethel would like nothing better. After a light lunch, while Aunt Ethel and Louise continued to visit, Alice busied herself by mixing up some hand-squeezed lemonade. Father had always enjoyed a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a hot afternoon, and according to the thermometer, just outside the kitchen window, it was nearly eighty degrees already.
She was just stirring in the sugar when Louise popped into the kitchen.
“Why, Alice Christine, is that homemade lemonade you’ve got there?” asked Louise.
Alice nodded as she proudly held out the pitcher. “Yep. Just what the doctor ordered.”
Aunt Ethel slipped in behind Louise now. “Why, that sounds perfectly lovely, Alice.” Then she took Louise by the arm. “And it’s a perfectly lovely day for it. Why don’t we enjoy it out on the front porch.”
Alice took her time filling the tall glasses with ice cubes and lemonade, arranging them on the tray with dainty pink napkins and a small plate of the sugar cookies that Patsy Ley had dropped by earlier. Patsy’s husband Henry was the associate pastor at Grace Chapel, but why Father had ever hired the soft-spoken man was something of a mystery. Henry had a good heart and was a natural listener, but because of his stammering speech, he found preaching a real trial. As a result, Father had continued fulfilling this role in the pulpit. Now that she thought about it, perhaps that was exactly why Father had hired Henry in the first place. Maybe Father hadn’t really wanted to give up his sermons at all. But who would preach on Sundays now?
“How nice,” exclaimed Louise as Alice set the tray on the white wicker table between the two women. “Alice, you’re just too good to us. Sit down and take a break before you completely wear yourself out.”
Aunt Ethel reached for a glass and smiled. “Daniel and I shared many a glass of lemonade out here over the years. It’s hard to believe that only last week we were sitting here reminiscing about our childhoods. We discovered that even though he was much older and already out of the house by the time I came along, we’d actually had some very similar experiences.” She sighed. “I’ll miss those little chats with him.”
Louise looked out over the still blooming climbing tea roses. “Well, it’s certainly a beautiful place for visiting with family and friends.” She smiled. “I’d almost forgotten how much I love this old porch and having a real yard to look out on.”
Wendell jumped into her lap as Alice settled herself into the porch swing and looked out over the lawn now in need of mowing. “Yes, even though the grounds have been a bit neglected these past few years, the old flowers and shrubs still look pretty good.” As she stroked the cat, she leaned back and listened to the gentle rhythmic squeaking of the swing as she moved back and forth. It had always been such a comforting sound.
“These are good,” said Louise as she reached for her second cookie. “Did you bake them, Alice?”
“No, Patsy Ley brought them by.”
“That’s Pastor Ley’s wife,” said Aunt Ethel. “Have you met her yet?”
Louise shook her head no. “I barely remember Pastor Ley. Wasn’t he a rather soft-spoken fellow?”
Aunt Ethel laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Have you thought about who’s going to take over the Sunday sermons?” asked Alice. Aunt Ethel was on the church board, along with Alice and several other church members. Naturally, she was usually full of ideas for how things should be run at Grace Chapel.
“Well, now, that is a bit of a sticky problem. Tsk-tsk, the good Lord knows that Pastor Ley can’t preach to save his soul.”
Louise chuckled. “Then why on earth is he a pastor?”
“He’s a good man,” Alice explained. “Whenever a parishioner is in need, Pastor Ley is the first one to lend a hand or an ear or whatever. He has a real servant’s heart.”
“And absolutely no skills in public speaking. Tsk-tsk, he could profit from a lesson or two from my Lloyd.”
Louise’s brows rose slightly. “Your Lloyd, Aunt Ethel?”
Aunt Ethel waved her hand. “Oh, did I forget to mention that the mayor and I have been dating lately?”
Louise shook her head. “Going after younger men now?”
“Pish-posh, Louise, he’s not that much younger.” Aunt Ethel patted her stiffly sprayed hair. “Besides, haven’t you heard that age is just a number?” She glanced at Alice. “Isn’t that what you’re always saying, dear?”
Alice shrugged. “Today I’m feeling like I’m pushing about a hundred.”
“You should go take a nap, dear,” suggested Louise. “You do seem tired, and I’m sure you’ve been through a lot today.”
“Oh, I’m fine—”
“Now, Alice, I’m not your older sister for nothing. Listen to me. You need to go have a little rest. Then you can freshen up after your cleaning campaign on the kitchen. Really, I insist. Ethel and I are perfectly capable of handling things down here.”
Alice slowly stood. “Okay, I suppose I could at least shower and change.”
“Yes.” Louise nodded firmly. “You’ll feel much better if you do.”
Alice obediently went to her room, feeling very much like a dismissed child, but she was unable to fall asleep. She’d never been much of a napper. Instead she took a cool shower and, after standing for a long time before the embarrassingly sparse selection of clothes in her closet, she finally selected a lightweight cotton dress. Father had always liked it, saying its shade of periwinkle looked well on her. She didn’t normally wear dresses, other than to church, but decided that perhaps she should make a special effort for the first evening with her two sisters. Oh, if only Father could be here too.
She sat down in her easy chair by the window and picked up her old Bible. The cover had once been white but was now aged to a mellow creamy color. She wanted to read for a bit, to experience a little solace and comfort, but for some reason she just held the soft leather book in her lap. She remembered the day her father had given her that Bible, just shortly after Mother had died. He had presented both Louise and Alice with new Bibles then, along with a tender speech about how they were the “women of the house now.” She had felt as if she’d aged by a decade during that brief period of time, as if her childhood had been laid aside from that day on. She and Louise had done their best to keep their household running smoothly. It wasn’t long before they became like a pair of “mothers” to their new sister Jane. That’s what women in the church liked to call the Howard girls, “the two little mothers.”
“Alice!” yelled a familiar female voice from downstairs.
Alice hurried to the landing. “Jane?” she called back.
“Yes! I’m here, at last. You coming down?”
The next thing Alice knew, she and her sisters were hugging and talking at once.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” exclaimed Alice as she stepped back to get a better look at her younger sister. Jane looked wan and tired with dark circles beneath her normally sparkling blue eyes. She also looked as if she’d lost weight.
“How was your flight?” asked Louise.
“Long and boring.” Jane pushed a silver and turquoise bracelet up her thin wrist and sighed.
“Boring’s better than being tossed around in turbulence,” quipped Aunt Ethel. “It was so bumpy the last time I flew that a glass of juice went right in my lap.”
“You look simply exhausted, Jane,” said Louise. “Are you all right?”
“Just tired, I guess. I haven’t been sleeping that well lately.”
“Well, that’s about to change,” announced Alice. “It’s much quieter here than in San Francisco. Just wait until you get into your old bed. You’ll be sleeping like a log in no time.”
Jane attempted a feeble smile. “Hope so.”
“Are you hungry?” asked Aunt Ethel. “The church ladies have been stocking the refrigerator since yesterday. I’m sure that Alice has something yummy planned for dinner.” She glanced at Alice expectantly.
Alice knew she was outflanked. She invited their aunt to join them for another meal.
“Oh, if it’s no trouble. I’d love to stay.” Aunt Ethel took Jane by the arm now. “And now I can tell Jane all about Acorn Hill’s latest—”
“I, for one, would like to hear about Jane’s latest,” interrupted Louise, taking Jane by the other arm. “Let’s go put your bags in your room while Alice starts getting things out for dinner.” She glanced at Alice. “Is that okay, dear? You’ve been such a trooper today. Perhaps Aunt Ethel would like to give you a hand—”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“I don’t mind,” offered Ethel. “How about if I set the table? Did you plan on eating in the formal dining room tonight?”
Alice really would have preferred the coziness of the kitchen, not to mention the company of her two sisters without any more “auntly” influence. Yet she knew Aunt Ethel was probably lonely, and they were, after all, family.
“The dining room is fine,” said Alice as she removed a baking dish of ham and scalloped potatoes from the refrigerator and turned on the oven.
She poked around the refrigerator until she found a large stoneware bowl of coleslaw that Viola Reed had dropped by this afternoon. Viola wasn’t a chapel member, but a good-hearted woman who ran the local bookstore. Alice paused to look out the kitchen window in time to see the sky growing pink—the same conch-shell color her skin had turned at the beach a few months ago when she and Father had taken an unexpected excursion one weekend. It had been a sunny June Saturday, and Father had suddenly set down his coffee cup and said, “I’d love to see the ocean today.” Although Alice had already made arrangements with Vera, she hadn’t minded canceling them. Then she drove them the four hours to the beach. It was a lovely day, and Father was so happy to see the ocean that he removed his shoes and waded right in. Alice sighed with relief. Thank God she had taken the time to go. She looked back up at the colorful sky and wondered how it could really be that late in the day already. Then she remembered that despite the unseasonable heat, it was September and the sun was going down earlier and earlier these days. It would soon be autumn. How Father had loved that time of year. She shook her head. Oh, what would she do without him?