In Search of a Memory (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (23 page)

“You’re sure, after all I told you, that you still want me—”

Her words were cut off by his passionate kiss. A long time later he lifted his head, his dark eyes softened. “Does that answer your question?”

She nodded in breathless wonder, unable to speak.

“The truth is, my darling, I have never stopped wanting you.”

They were married a week later, with her grandfather officiating and her mother acting as witness, along with a shy neighbor named Rose, whom Angel had met the previous week and welcomed to share in her joy. The private ceremony was all Angel desired, and she and Roland pledged unrehearsed vows, giving God the glory for the bizarre coincidences that had brought them together—events that perhaps were not coincidences at all—and for their blessed union, promising always to love, honor, and protect. Their vows were possibly unconventional, Angel thought, as she moved eagerly into her husband’s arms for his kiss….

But then, her dear family including herself, could hardly be considered typical.

Nor could her new husband who, in his delight to hear Angel pronounced his wife, firmly embraced her, lifting her off her feet and kissing her most soundly. Remembering the others, he abashedly broke the kiss and thanked them for their help, while letting Angel slide, breathless, back to the ground. Amid amused chuckles, the trio moved to the next room, to give them a moment’s privacy. Eager to continue where they’d left off, Angel cradled Roland’s head, lifting herself on her toes to press her mouth to his.

His arms fastened around her back, lifting her against his solid form, and she decided that
typical
was highly overrated. She wanted Roland Piccoli no other way.

“Roland!”

Angel waved a letter and ran toward her husband as he walked home from the field. She threw herself into his arms, and he held her against him.

“What has you so excited, darling?”

“Cassie and Chester are coming! Oh, can you believe it? We’ll get to see them again! The carnival train is coming east—to our town!” She pulled away and laughed, waving the letter. “If they can, I’d like them to come here to the farm and visit, but I do so want to go see them. To see everyone! Mama and Posey and Rita—and, oh, everyone!”

“Of course.” He grinned at her exuberance.

“I cannot wait for the day to arrive!”

“I would never have guessed it.”

“Oh you!” She slapped his shoulder then reached up to kiss him.

One afternoon later that week her mother received her own guest, sharpening Angel’s curiosity when they immediately shut themselves up in her bedroom. She had yet to meet the woman from New York, and when Roland and her grandfather came in for supper, Mama and her guest were still behind the closed door. Angel knocked but found it locked. Her mother announced she wouldn’t be coming to dinner, a strange note in her voice.

Concerned, Angel joined Roland and her grandfather for their meal of corn and bread with milk. Afterward her grandfather excused himself to do some reading.

“Roland, I’m worried.” She cleared the dishes from the table. “Mama’s been acting odd lately.”

“How so?”

“Anxious… distant.”

He pulled her willingly into his lap, his arms linking around her waist. “You think it has something to do with her visitor?”

“That or the carnival. She hasn’t seen them for years, and though only Mama, Cassie, and Chester will be coming, I’m sure it brings back bad memories.”

His fingertips went beneath her chin. “What was it Nettie told you in her last letter? Not to borrow worry because there’s more than enough to go around?”

“As if someone would actually want it?”

He chuckled and kissed her. Her heart so in love with this man, Angel pressed her hand to his cheek, eagerly deepening their kiss.

The sound of the door creaking open vaguely reached her ears.

“Angel? Roland? Could you come here a moment, please?”

Startled, Angel moved away, and Roland lifted her off his lap. She took his hand, and he squeezed it, helping to steady her nerves as they went to her mother’s door.

They looked in shock at the visitor, and then at Lila, whose jaw, delicate as the rest of her bone structure, was now clean-shaven. A faint white scar the length of a few inches lay visible on her jaw line; despite the flaw, she was easily one of the most beautiful women Roland had ever seen. He saw the lingering fear in her eyes and knew the process had been an ordeal.

“Why, Mama?” Angel didn’t sound pleased. “Why’d you do it?”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you. For myself I don’t care. I’ve learned to accept this cross.”

“Oh, Mama.” Angel moved forward to give her a hug. “I don’t care either! Don’t feel you have to change for me. But Mama Philena and Cassie have seen you, right? I still don’t understand.”

“Faye hasn’t.”

“Faye?” Angel squeaked. “Why should Faye come here?”

“She wrote a letter of apology, though I don’t think her mother knows. She said she feels horrible for what her family did to you and me. Of course she was just a child then, and I certainly don’t blame her. She’s coming for a visit this weekend. Strangely the letter came the same day my friend from New York did.” Lila smiled up at the woman who stood by her chair.

“But… I still don’t understand. Although…” Angel grew pensive. “I remember she didn’t approve of Rosemary’s decision to tell me the truth. She tried to stop it.” She sighed. “I always thought that maybe without Rosemary’s influence Faye could have been a better person. Of all of them she’s the nicest. Still…” Her eyes grew fierce with loyalty. “If she can’t accept you as you are, she shouldn’t be welcome here.”

Roland silently agreed. He thought about what Lila had said regarding crosses. They each had one to bear—Angel’s being her harsh upbringing and knowledge of her conception; Roland, his gangster family and the blood he could never eradicate; and Lila’s cross was living with a man’s beard. Oddly enough he realized that, through those crosses, they each had found their strength.

“See there, what did I tell you?” the stranger exclaimed, her accent British with a slight twang. Laugh lines graced her mouth and the corners of her eyes, which were a dark blue and twinkled as they regarded Lila. “You had no cause to fret so.”

She set down the foamy straight razor she held, wiped her hand on her skirt, and struck it out toward Angel. “Name’s Darcy. Darcy Thomas. And you’re Angel.” Her smile was as effusive and outgoing as her manner. “I took care of you when you were just a babe in nappies.”

Angel laughed at this, shaking the woman’s hand. “This is my husband, Roland.”

“A pleasure.” Darcy shook Roland’s hand.

“Likewise.”

“Darcy is my oldest and dearest friend,” Lila explained. “She gave me a home when I first left the carnival, when Angel was still a baby, and she helped me find my way to God.”

“You’re the one?” Angel’s eyes widened.

“Aye, luv, that I am.”

“Oh, we must talk! I have so much I want to know. About Lyons’ Refuge that Mother told me so much about, and about how you and she met….”

The gathering moved to the parlor. Over the next hour the women excitedly conversed.

Roland excused himself to take refuge on the porch—women’s talk was too hard to follow with their fluttering changes into home, children, husbands, fashion, church, the economy, and whatever else existed under the sun… although he never got tired of conversing with Angel.

As the sun set beyond a fringe of distant beech trees, he entered the house for a glass of water. A protesting cry came from the bedroom.

“Oh, that’s our boy. Wait till you see him, Darcy!” Angel hurried past Roland with a gentle brush of her hand along his arm, and Darcy beckoned him farther inside.

“You have that hunted animal look my Brent gets when the women sit down for a nice cozy chat.” She chuckled in understanding and patted the cushion beside her. “Come, don’t be shy. I won’t bite. Tell me about the farm and what you do here.”

Roland warmed to Darcy’s carefree, no-nonsense manner. In a way, she reminded him of Mama Philena, and he found himself opening to her. While he assumed Angel fed the baby, he spoke of his worries—the farm was failing, what with the Depression, and Everett couldn’t handle the workload, though he insisted on it. Lila sadly agreed. Roland felt concerned about the health of the man he’d come to consider as both a father and grandfather. “I do all I can, but things are bad. We want to try and keep the farm and not give up on it, as so many other farmers have done. But if we’re ever going to manage, we need another hand.” He shook his head helplessly.

Darcy got a pensive gleam in her eye. “Well now, guvner, I might be able to help at that. There’s a boy at the refuge—well, a man now—been there since I came. Tommy’s got a wanderer’s spirit, but his clubfoot keeps him homebound. What he doesn’t have in stride, he makes up for elsewhere. The boy’s as strong as an ox with sturdy arms and build. What would you say if I talked to him and see if he’d be interested in helpin’ out?”

“I’d say that would be swell, but I’d have to talk it over with Everett. And…” Roland hesitated. “We couldn’t pay him. Not with the way things are right now.”

“Oh, I imagine he’d be happy enough just for the change of scenery. His two best friends have moved on—Herbert now lives here in Connecticut—that’s why I’m here. I was visiting. The other, Joel, well, we’ve lost track of him I’m afraid, and Tommy’s become somewhat restless.”

“We have that back storage room we could make up for him,” Lila said. “Do ask him, Darcy. I remember Tommy—such a nice boy.”

“Now he’s a man.” Darcy sighed. “Time flies away so fast.”

“And here’s our little man,” Angel announced from behind. “May I introduce you to Everett Roland Piccoli.”

She bounced their son in her arms and approached Darcy, who clucked over him. Everett gurgled in contentment, allowing Darcy to hold him.

“Oh, he looks just like his daddy!” Darcy cooed. “What a peach!”

Angel grinned and moved to stand beside Roland’s chair; out of habit he slipped his arm about her waist. They shared a look of loving contentment, and Roland wished the room were empty so he could pull her onto his lap and kiss her like he wanted. Their earlier embrace had only whetted his appetite for more.

By the time Darcy left, she and Angel were fast friends. Excited about the prospect of Tommy soon joining them, Lila excused herself to talk to her father. The baby again slept in his bassinet, and Roland did what he’d wanted to do for hours.

He cornered Angel in the kitchen, advancing toward her until he had her back pressed to the wall and his hands around her waist. She gave a soft intake of breath at the unexpected move and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.

“Roland?”

He kissed her long and thoroughly, amazed that after more than a year of marriage, she still affected his senses as if it was their first time. She clung to him as if she might fall if she were to let go.

He broke away to look into her eyes.

“I don’t suppose you really want me to put the coffeepot on?” she whispered.

He smiled at the hopeful note in her voice, his every nerve ending awakened. “I think we should skip that tonight and retire early.”

She reached up to brush her lips against his. “I like the way you think, Mr. Piccoli.”

“I love everything about you, Mrs. Piccoli.”

She gave a contented sigh. “Roland, darling, you can shadow me forever.”

He chuckled at her reference to their first days together and kissed her again, thanking God above that his Angel had finally stopped running.

To all those searching who have lost something special and to all those wishing to find a better way and the truth, this is for you. Many thanks to my critique partners, Theo, Therese, and my mother. Without you guys, I would be lost. And to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who found this lost lamb and brought her home, to Him I owe everything.