A Beautiful Fall (17 page)

“Every choice we make has a cost, Em. Yesterday’s choices and today’s.”

His voice was calm, and though the words could have stung, Emma sensed they were spoken out of kindness. She squeezed Michael’s hand, pushing away the lamentable thought that he was part of the price she’d paid.

“I feel like I’m caught between two different worlds. Does that sound funny? And I feel like I’m failing in both of them.”

“Emma,” Michael said. “It’s not that bad. Things will work out. They always do.”

“Then why am I suddenly so conflicted about all this? My life in Boston is everything I wanted. I love it there. And my career—assuming I still have one when I get back—is only getting better. I should be happy about that, right?” she said.

“I think you’ll have to figure that out on your own too. But not tonight; it’s getting late. You need some rest.”

“You’re right. I think maybe you’re right about a lot of things. Another mystery to solve, I suppose.”

Emma pulled open the door. An instant rush of cold air hit her. She grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled it tight around her, waving good-bye with frozen fingers. Then she turned and climbed up the steps to the side porch and vanished inside.

Upstairs in her room, Emma saw her cell phone on the nightstand and picked it up, checking for voice messages before going to bed. There was one—a number she didn’t recognize, 508 area code. Cape Cod. She pushed the message retrieve button and sat on the bed to listen.

“Hello, Emma? It’s Colin. I’m looking out at the Atlantic Ocean from a client’s beach house, and it’s absolutely magnificent. I had to call you to say, wish you were here. It’s relaxing, and I think you’d love it. It’s warm here today and from the terrace I can feel the breeze coming in off the ocean and smell the salt water. I’m just down here for the day on business, but I thought I’d try to reach you … anyway, if you happen to get this message tonight and it’s not too late, call me back at this number. My cell phone’s out of juice and I won’t get the chance to recharge until I’m back in Boston tomorrow. And, Emma …” Colin’s voice reached for the right words. “Come back soon. Ciao.”

She rested the cell phone under her chin and closed her eyes. Life was so like a spinning puzzle cube, only it didn’t matter who spun the corners. It always wound up looking scrambled, a confusing jumble of pieces that never seemed close to falling into place.

~ Thirteen ~

Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

—H
ANK
W
ILLIAMS

“I Saw the Light”

On her first Sunday morning in Juneberry, Emma woke to the sound of her father’s electric razor—a steady hum, then the rhythmic tap of his hard-soled shoes walking across the hardwood floors in the upstairs hall. He had tried to be quiet, but every sound seemed to be amplified on this particular day.

Will Madison was accustomed to regular church attendance every Sunday. He was religious about it, a phrase he often used in conversation just to get a reaction from others. From their response, he could usually gauge their comfort level with church … and sometimes what they felt about faith itself. He wasn’t about to let something as small as a heart attack keep him away from church today.

Will dressed in a blue suit and tie, then set about the routine of combing short, silver-black hair that really didn’t need fixing at all. He didn’t feel comfortable in the ultracasual look so prevalent in many churches. It didn’t bother him if others dressed down, but he preferred to continue practicing the respect and reverence for church he’d experienced as a young boy.

“Emma,” he called from outside her bedroom door. He knocked twice on the wood post and the sound reverberated in the hallway. “Emma, I’m going to go to church this morning. Do you want to go with me?”

He heard nothing, no shuffling feet, no snoring, not even a plea for more sleep. He considered whether Emma was used to a different Sunday-morning routine, a leisurely rise from bed perhaps, hot coffee and bagels with the oversized Sunday-morning paper sprawled out on the floor. He knocked again.

“Emma, are you awake? I didn’t think to ask last night, but would you like to go to church with me this morning? Are you up?”

The door opened and Emma appeared, fully dressed. She was wearing a stylish skirt with an orange and brown pattern and a simple pullover sweater. Her hair was pulled back and held into place with a gold band that matched her necklace.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going to church with you,” she said, fitting a small hoop earring into her ear. “Is that okay?”

“Yes … yes, of course,” Will responded, surprised that she was going, and delighted she was almost ready. “Are you hungry for breakfast?”

“Not really,” she said. “Maybe can we pick up a coffee on the way into town?”

Hope Community Church was the big church a block off Main Street. Its white-planked steeple rose above the elms; it was tall enough that Christina could see it from her place. The building had served Juneberry well for more than 150 years, with only a few modifications—a blacktop drive and parking lot, a community room added in the early 1980s, a modernization of the sound system, and every fifty years or so, a remodeling of the main sanctuary.

Will parked the Cadillac in the back, the recently repainted yellow lines still looking fresh and bright against the blacktop. They entered the church through the community room, passing by the children’s classrooms where groups of preschoolers colored at tables and snacked on Goldfish crackers and apple juice.

The community room was like a modest public-school cafeteria with cream-colored tile flooring, fluorescent overhead lights, and a half dozen windows hidden by colorful floral curtains. A Baldwin upright piano stood against a wall, and a huge bulletin board served the dual role of church information center and children’s art exhibit.

They arrived right at the break between Sunday school and the main worship service. Fellowship time. The smell of hot coffee and promise of doughnuts drew congregation members like a swarm to the community room.

Will turned to Emma. “I guess we found a place that serves coffee on a Sunday after all.”

Emma poured herself a cup of coffee, bypassing the plate of glazed doughnuts. She caught sight of Samantha, Jim, and Noel Connor sitting together at a round table near the bulletin board. Samantha waved from across the room, and Will and Emma set out to join them.

“Good morning! It’s been awhile,” Samantha joked. “Will, you look really good. How are you feeling?”

“I can’t complain, Samantha. I feel pretty good, all things considered.”

It was the first time Emma had seen Noel since their day at the airport and then the hospital. He looked even more grown up, Emma thought, in black dress pants, white dress shirt, and a dark jacket.

“How’s the rest of your week been since we last saw each other?” Emma asked.

“Not nearly as exciting,” he joked.

“Noel got an acceptance letter from SEBTS yesterday,” Samantha said. “He didn’t remember to tell us until this morning. There must be too much going on that boy’s mind.”

“Noel, that’s fantastic! I didn’t know you were thinking of going to seminary.”

“We sent out an application in August to start next fall,” Samantha informed the Madisons. “I was pretty sure he’d get accepted, but we are all thrilled.”

“Do you know what you’d like to do after seminary, Noel?” Will asked.

“I think I’d like to be a minister here in Juneberry.”

Samantha beamed. “He’s so
smart
. That’s exactly the answer a mother wants to hear.”

Emma was once again spellbound by the maturity of Noel’s response. She wasn’t surprised that he knew what he wanted; it was what he wanted that impressed her. How could he be so sure at such a young age?

“You certainly were that to me on Monday.”

“He’s leading worship at the service this morning,” Samantha told them.

“Which reminds me,” Noel said, getting up from the table with his parents. “I need to get inside before the service begins.”

Wooden pews ran along either side of the sanctuary. A caramel-colored carpet covered the floor in the aisles. At the front of the church stood a podium that matched the natural stain of the pews. A green velvet cloth hung over it and a garland of Indian corn and assorted squash decorated a table in the back.

It was quiet in the sanctuary and the stillness granted Emma a degree of peace from all the turmoil she’d described to Michael the night before. Will led Emma and the Connor family to seats midway back on the left side. Beverly Williams, the volunteer Emma had met at Wellman Medical, sat nearby.

“Glad to see you on your feet again, Will,” she said as the worship music began. They all rose to their feet.

The worship that morning was stirring and inspired. Noel and two twentysomething women led the singing, accompanied only by Noel’s guitar. Emma listened as the group sang, marveling as Noel’s rich, full baritone resonated through the sanctuary. She didn’t know the songs, but there was something about the singing that transcended words. Instinctively, she knew this was what worship really meant. They sang about God’s greatness with resolute conviction. The second song was about placing trust in Christ. Emma wondered, What did that feel like? The worship leaders and members of the congregation lifted their hands in the air as they sang, reaching up to touch a heaven that seemed to near in response to the music.

When worship concluded, a young pastor named Brian Collins walked to the podium. He had short brown hair parted on the side and wore blue jeans and a short-sleeved blue tartan plaid shirt. In the front row directly ahead of him, a lovely woman of about thirty corralled three small children all under the age of eight.

“Is that your pastor?” Emma asked.

“Yes, and that’s his wife and family,” Will said, pointing out the mom and their kids.

“How’s everyone doing this morning?” he asked. There were about two hundred people in the congregation, and a few enthusiastic members answered back they were well.

“I’m glad to hear it, because that’s precisely how I feel when I wake up on a beautiful fall morning in a house with my wife and children and come to church knowing I’m going to spend time with all of you.

“I’m just going to jump right into the sermon today. No lame jokes, for which I’m sure you’re especially thankful.” A quiet ripple of laughter punctuated the pause before he continued. “Do you know what the Bible tells us about heaven? It says heaven is a place where we are
with
God. It tells us for all time, even before the earth was created that God the Father, Jesus Christ the Son, and the mysterious Holy Spirit were all together alive in community. Can you picture that?

“Consider this—throughout the Bible we’re taught that
we’re
to come together for one another, to love one another. And then, right there in the last book of the Bible, we see a description of all those who believe and trust Jesus Christ coming
together
to live forever with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Us together with God. That’s the way God’s Word describes His creation when it’s running the way He designed it.”

Emma listened intently, distracted only by wondering when was the last time she’d been in church and heard a sermon? Eighth grade?

“The end. Well, not really, but you’ve just heard the shortest sermon I’ll ever bring to this pulpit because there’s really nothing more I can add to it—except to summarize!” Pastor Brian said, his right finger going up in the air along with a smile on his face.

“Community, community, community. It’s
all
about community. That’s the explanation of why it
pains
us when we find ourselves isolated from others. That’s the reason
why
it hurts to say good-bye to those we love. That’s the answer to the question, ‘Why do people crave intimacy?’ It’s the reason sin is so destructive, because sin separates us from God, and from each other—sin destroys community.”

Pastor Brian spoke in such a casual style she felt as if she were just listening to someone reason through the cultural issue of loneliness.

“Nothing you purchase can replace community with your friends, family, or God. No position at work can fill the void. Wealth can’t take its place, and fame won’t make any difference.”

Emma saw pictures inside her mind of the person she was, but they were incomplete pictures, half-sketched like a child’s unshaded coloring book. Just black and white outlines.

“In church we talk about a relationship with Christ, because relationships are an essential part of community. To have a relationship with someone, first you have to meet that person.”

“I’m as attached to the people in Juneberry as an oak tree is rooted to the earth,”
Michael had told her at breakfast.
“You’re more like a leaf––the wind picks you up and carries you far away.”

“Have you ever really been a part of a community?” Pastor Brian asked. This time, no one replied.

“Anyone can be a visitor, people can even be long-time residents, or citizens, but that’s not the same as living in community.

“Community takes commitment. Otherwise, it’s only temporary. If you’re a Christian, you’re part of a community called the church, God’s family, and that doesn’t ever go away.”

When Emma tried later to recall just how the church service ended, her memory was fuzzy and unclear. She remembered her dad putting his arm around her as they walked through the community room, and how she’d rested her head on his shoulder as they walked to the car. She remembered the sun shining gloriously bright and the breeze at noontime blew warm and mild.

“Are you in the afterglow?” Will asked her on their drive to the farm.

“What?”

“The afterglow,” Will said. “You’re so quiet. That’s the way I feel sometimes after church. I just want to enjoy the solitude without getting worked up about anything.”

“Maybe,” Emma said. The entire week had been part of her undoing, and church had only pushed her uncertainties closer to the edge. She felt somehow different than just a week before, something she attributed to being out of her usual groove. She thought of it as a bottle that’s barely balanced, about to fall. She was standing on a point so tiny that she knew she’d have to fall one way or the other before long.