36

Kelli walked into City Center Church on Sunday morning, wondering why she continued to come here, now that she had another excuse to see Beth and Alison. It had become something of a habit, she supposed, and it had the potential to raise too many questions if she suddenly stopped. Best to keep going through the motions.

Alison was nowhere to be seen, so Kelli took a seat near the back. She stuffed her purse up under the seat in front of her, crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, and tried to leaf through the bulletin a middle-aged woman had handed her when she’d entered. Someone stirred to her left, and she turned in time to see Alison sliding in beside her. Since this was quite a bit further back than Alison normally sat, there could be no question that she was sitting here to be with Kelli. Her mother was choosing to be with her, even having no idea who she was.

Kelli managed a quick hello.

Alison squeezed her arm. “Good morning.”

The first song was “Amazing Grace.” Although Kelli and Alison had not sung this one yesterday, Kelli figured anyone who had grown up in America knew at least a little bit of this song. Kelli took a deep breath and steeled her nerves but found that she couldn’t open her mouth. At all. Maybe she should just listen to the first verse, get the rhythm, and then she could join in with the second.

“’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fear relieved . . .” Once again Kelli took a deep breath, but based on the nerves that had built up inside her chest, she could have been singing a solo in front of the entire church. This was crazy. She was simply trying to join in with a large group singing the same song—a group where her voice would not even be differentiated from anyone else’s. Her mouth would not open.

Two songs later, they began singing the song Kelli and Alison had practiced yesterday. By this point, tears had started spilling down her cheeks, and she had given up all hope of actually participating. She looked sideways toward Alison, who was facing the front and singing. Kelli knew that she was being discreet, but that she was listening and watching expectantly, waiting to see the results from yesterday. Except there were none.

She took another breath, opened her mouth, and . . . failed. Again. She could not force out a single sound. She sat through the rest of the service with one thought and one thought only in her mind.

I think I hate my dad.

Beth drank the last of her milk and looked at the clock on the bedside table for what seemed like the thousandth time. What was taking so long? Rand came into the room. “How’s my favorite patient?”

“Not very patient. Shouldn’t church be out by now?”

He didn’t bother to look at the clock. “I imagine so.” He picked up the empty glass, then sat down on the side of the bed. “I wish I knew why you are obsessing about this so much. I know Kelli told you she would stop by on her way home, but you’ve been watching the clock all morning.”

Beth shook her head. “I wish I could tell you. I don’t understand it myself. I just have the strangest sense that there is some deep, dark hurt in Kelli, and somehow that beginning to sing again will be the beginning of her healing. I know”—she adjusted the sheet around her legs—“it’s weird, even for me.”

He brushed the hair back from her forehead and smiled. “Nothing you do surprises me, but it does seem that you get especially worked up about Kelli.”

“I know, and I can’t seem to help myself. I think she showed up exactly when my hormones were at their wildest, plus I was lonely, and I don’t know . . . Oh, Rand, I’m going to shove her away by being so pushy, aren’t I? That’s what I always seem to do. I just can’t seem to stop myself sometimes.” She felt tears well up in her eyes but blinked them back, determined to maintain something like control.

“If someone can be driven away because you’re trying so hard to be such a good friend, then it’s just as well. Most people would kill for a friend who loves them that much.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“I’m glad I have you to be my mega-best-friend for life.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and realized just how much she meant that.

The doorbell rang. “Aha.” Rand stood up and smiled. “Bet I know who that is.”

Beth heard Kelli’s voice, and she waited expectantly to hear all about her first foray into public singing. “How’d it go? Did you belt it out?” She hollered the question down the hall before Kelli even made it to her room. When she saw Kelli’s face, she would have given anything if she could take back the words.

“Hey.” She came to sit on the edge of the bed, having the good grace to pretend she hadn’t heard Beth’s questions. “How you feeling?”

“I’m all right. How about you?”

Kelli shrugged. “Okay.” She looked at the ceiling for a minute. She swallowed hard, as if she was about to say something she didn’t want to say, but then shook her head and reached down for a small gift bag she had set beside her purse. “I brought you something.” She handed the bag to Beth.

Beth pulled out the tissue paper and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “It’s amazing.” She lifted it out of the bag and turned the wooden horse figurine around in her hands. The mane was so detailed that she could see individual strands of hair, and the dark brown wood was polished and gleaming. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I thought it would work for your nursery, whether you use carousel or rocking horses.”

“Where did you get it?”

“It’s something I’ve had for a long time. My father carved it for me when I was a little girl. I had my friend ship it to me so I could give it to you.”

“Your father did this? By hand?”

“Yes. That’s what he did. He was a carpenter and artist—he could do anything with wood.”

“Wow. That is so amazing, but I can’t take this. Your father made it for you.” Beth held it out.

“I have other things he made.” Kelli pushed it back toward her. “He would be glad if he knew I was giving it to a friend like you. It would make him really happy for you to have it.”

Beth couldn’t help but notice that Kelli’s voice caught on the last few words, but she pretended that she didn’t. She held the figurine to her chest. “I will treasure this. Always.”

“Thanks.” Kelli stood up. “I’m going to run by the store for a little while. I’ll text you when I get home, and maybe stop by again.”

“Okay.” Beth watched her walk out the door, her heart sick that she couldn’t do more to help her friend. She waited until she heard the door close before she picked up the phone. “Mom, what happened with Kelli in church today?”

“I’m not sure,” her mom answered, “but I’d say you are more right than I first believed. There are some deep hurts between that girl and her singing. I could see her standing over there, taking deep breaths, trying to get started, but she just didn’t seem to be able to do it.”

“Mom, we’ve got to figure out a way to help her.”