33

IN AUGUST, ELLA AND LAURA went to Clarksville to do some shopping for the nursery. Will insisted he didn’t care what they did so long as it wasn’t too frilly. They’d opted not to learn the sex of the child, so frills were out anyway.

After several hours of looking at cribs, changing tables, linens, baby clothes, and a dizzying array of supplies that store clerks insisted were indispensable, both women felt frazzled.

“Let’s eat,” Laura suggested. “This child and I are too hungry to think straight.” She patted the baby bump that she could still hide under loose-fitting clothes.

They found a deli that served homemade pepperoni rolls. Once settled at a table near the front, they ordered iced tea and sandwiches with sweet potato chips. They’d get a sack of the rolls to take home.

Laura leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “It’s astonishing to me how tired being pregnant makes you. And while I could barely look at food those first few months, now I’m hungry all the time.”

“Any weird cravings?”

“Not really—I just want to eat every hour of the day. I even dream about food. Last night I dreamt I was at the hospital for the delivery and insisted on going down to the cafeteria where they had pizza and macaroni and cheese and this huge chocolate cake, and I couldn’t find the right line to get into. Every time the line moved, it would suddenly be for the bathroom or the checkout, but I couldn’t find . . . hey.”

“What’s wrong?” Ella asked.

“Isn’t that Pastor Goodwin?” Laura pointed to the back of the restaurant with her chin.

Ella twisted in her seat and saw Richard sitting alone at a table. He was turned away from them, but she could see enough of his profile to be sure it was him.

“So it is,” Ella said. “Should we go say hi or wait until he passes our table on the way out?”

“Maybe we should invite him to join us,” Laura said with a twinkle. “He seems to be alone. Oh.”

“Oh?” Ella started to turn again.

“No, don’t look.” Laura reached across the table to grab Ella’s hand. “I think maybe he isn’t alone.”

“I wonder who it is. The church offices are in town—maybe he’s meeting someone from there.”

“No,” Laura said, shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure that’s Tara from church.”

Ella felt confused. “Tara? Keith’s daughter?”

“Petite. Dark hair that’s never frizzy. Skin like marble.”

Ella thought about the way Keith’s daughter always looked at Richard with admiration and wondered if something might be brewing between them. She couldn’t help it; she dropped her napkin and peeked as she leaned over to pick it up.

Laura twirled a strand of hair as Ella resumed her upright position. “Looks kind of cozy, huh?”

“Yes,” Ella said.

“You were interested in him once, weren’t you?” Laura asked.

Ella considered the question and took a drink of tea. “I guess I was, but seeing him here with Tara makes me think that’s all well behind me.”

Their food arrived, and it was every bit as delicious as they expected. Ella ate with relish. The thought that maybe Richard had found someone made her feel . . . free. Laura, as usual, ate as though she hadn’t seen food in three days.

“I don’t suppose you’re planning a Lenten fast next spring.”

“Nope,” Laura said, sinking her teeth into the thick sandwich. “Maybe I’ll give up something else—like television or using credit cards. Food is nonnegotiable at the moment. Hey, here they come.”

Laura waved and smiled at the approaching couple. Ella turned and smiled, too. Richard’s face was scarlet, and Tara had rosy spots in the centers of her cheeks. Ella found herself thinking no one should look that adorable when embarrassed. She also thought they really didn’t have any reason to be embarrassed.

“Laura, E-Ella,” Richard said, stuttering a little. “How nice to see you.”

“We’re out shopping for the baby,” Laura said, patting her belly. “How about you?”

Ella was surprised and a little amused by her sister-in-law’s direct approach. She’d always thought Laura was a bit on the meek side. Maybe pregnancy had something to do with it.

“Well, I, uh . . .” stammered Richard.

“You probably had some business with the church office,” offered Ella.

“Ah, yes,” Richard said. “Some paper work to drop off. Thought it would be nice for Tara here—” he stopped to clear his throat—“to get out and have some lunch. She’s been . . .” He paused again, seeming to catch himself. “That’s for her to share or not.” Richard looked deeply uncomfortable.

“Richard has been kind enough to talk to me about a personal issue,” Tara said softly, ducking her chin in a way that made Ella want to push her down and put an arm around her all in the same moment. “It was sweet of him to bring me along today.” She peered up at him through what Ella would have to describe as luscious lashes. Richard chuckled in an unnatural way.

“Enjoy your day,” he said. “See you ladies at church.” He hustled Tara toward the door.

Once they were gone, Ella wished she’d been able to put the couple at ease, to reassure them in some way.

Laura looked at Ella’s plate and asked, “You going to finish that?”

The phone rang, and after a moment Gran called to let Ella know it was for her. Ella smiled. Six months ago, Gran couldn’t have answered the phone if she wanted to.

“Ella? Hey, this is Seth. I was wondering if you’d like to go to a square dance with me?”

“A square dance? Really?”

“Sure, they have them over at the college. It’s a mix of locals and students. I’ve been a few times and it’s always fun. Of course, if you’d rather do something else . . .”

“No, a dance sounds like fun. I’d love to go.”

Perla watched her granddaughter going about her daily tasks humming and smiling. Perla smiled, too. Ella hadn’t hummed when she was seeing Mark. Of course, Ella had changed a great deal since then, anyone could see that.

“Gran, did you ever square dance?”

Perla closed her eyes and remembered. “Yes. Your grandfather carried me home from a barn dance not long after we met.”

“Really? Were you dating?” Ella sat down as though settling in for a long chat.

“No, we didn’t really ‘date’ back then.” She paused, gathering her next words. “That’s the night I told him the truth about Sadie.”

Ella’s voice sounded almost reverent. “And he didn’t mind?”

Perla laughed. “He minded. So much that I was certain there was no . . . future for us. Not that I’d thought there was, but your grandfather was very handsome.” She touched her hair. “And I wasn’t hard to look at, either.”

“So he got over it?”

Perla laughed some more. The way young people talked. “He learned what was important and so did I, thank the good Lord.” She brushed at her slacks to give herself a moment to formulate her thoughts. “If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have had Henry, and he wouldn’t have had you. God has the most wonderful plans.”

“So is it hard?”

Perla had to think a moment before she realized what Ella was asking. “Square dancing? Not at all. You just do what the caller tells you to do.” She squeezed Ella’s hand. “And if you’re dancing with someone you like, there’s nothing better.”

Satisfied, Ella said she was going for a walk. Perla watched her go, grateful to see her granddaughter blossoming. Maybe it was worth having a stroke to draw her family close to her, to learn what really mattered—to her, to Sadie, and to Ella.

She relaxed back in her chair and closed her eyes. Talking was getting easier, but she often felt tired after carrying on a conversation. She smiled, remembering that night when Casewell drove her home from the dance.

She hadn’t wanted to go, feeling like it was inappropriate for a single woman with a child to be seen dancing. Her reputation was already fragile, and she feared one misstep would shatter it completely. Looking back on it, she needn’t have worried since most of the town had judged her already.

Casewell stood tall on the stage with the other musicians, playing his mandolin like he didn’t care who was listening. She’d watched him play at least a thousand times over the years and she never tired of the way he disappeared into another world where he gave every note his full attention.

And then the musicians took a break, and she tried not to watch him as he made his way down the food table to where she stood dispensing drinks. Even now she could remember the way her hands shook as she poured him a glass of sweet tea. As soon as he took the tea, she braced her hands against the edge of the table so he wouldn’t see them quiver.

She only danced once that evening—with her uncle Robert—but she’d wished she could dance with Casewell. She spent far too much time imagining how it would feel. Then he drove her home, and she confessed the truth about Sadie. Early in their marriage she’d offered to tell him the whole story, including Arthur’s name.

A tear streaked Perla’s cheek and wetted her blouse. Casewell said it didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, Christ’s sacrifice on the cross had washed her clean and there was nothing left to confess. He said he’d just as soon not know who the man was, since he preferred to think of little Sadie as his own.

More tears fell, and Perla let them. Casewell had been gone for more than three decades now and there were times when the grief felt as raw as it had that morning when she realized he’d gone from her. She smiled through the tears. Oh, but she’d see him again. She glanced out the window to watch Ella return through the pasture. It looked like she was having a conversation with the birds and the trees. Maybe she was. She always did have a knack for understanding what she loved. And now maybe she was beginning to understand herself.

Perla dried her cheeks and patted her eyes. Yes, she’d see Casewell again, but for now, she had a daughter and a granddaughter who needed her. And although she wasn’t sure she was up to dancing, she was pretty sure she could give Ella a pointer or two before she headed off to her own dance.

When Seth brought Ella back home that evening, she felt as if she were still whirling around the dance floor. She’d worn a full skirt and cowboy boots, and the sensation of fabric swirling and swishing around her legs as Seth spun and do-si-doed her lingered. Not only had it been nice being out with Seth, the dance had been just plain fun. She was trying not to compare Seth to Mark or even Richard, but honestly she couldn’t remember ever having such a good time on a date before.

The September evening had cooled, and the last of the fireflies flickered over the pasture as Seth helped her down from his truck. Before she could go inside, he grabbed her hand and tugged her up the hill out back, where they could see the moon tangling in the branches of a locust tree.

“Locust trees make the best fence posts,” Seth said.

Ella hadn’t been expecting a lesson in farm life. “Do they?”

“Yup. The wood is tough to split by hand, but it lasts a long time. Up to a hundred years without rotting.” Seth fell silent a moment. “The flowers make for good honey, and if you use it for firewood, it burns slow and hot without a lot of smoke.”

“I . . . I didn’t know that,” Ella said.

Seth turned toward her, his eyes almost black in the twilight. “Some things are harder than others and take a lot of time and effort, but it seems like those are usually the ones that end up being most valuable.”

Ella wasn’t sure how to respond. Her breath caught in the back of her throat; she couldn’t get air in or out.

Seth leaned closer, and when his lips brushed hers, Ella gasped—not in surprise, but in wonder. It was like suddenly understanding something that had puzzled her for years. It was like being able to speak a new language.

Seth straightened and tucked a wisp of her hair behind Ella’s ear. “I’ve waited a long time to do that.”

“It was worth it,” whispered Ella.

Seth laughed. “For you, or for me?”

Ella blushed and tucked her chin. “I meant for me.”

“For me, too,” Seth said and kissed her again.