Inescapable (10 page)

“Thanks.” I took it but didn't open it.

“You and Noah used to be such good friends,” Cora said, “but you seem to be so uncomfortable around him now. Why is that?”

I cleared my throat and stared down at my shoes. “I don't know. It's just not the same. We're not children anymore.”

“That young man cares deeply for you, Lizzie,” Cora said. “I remember you two runnin' all over this town together. Seems to me it wouldn't be too hard to pick up where you left off.” She didn't look at me, just kept stirring something that looked like gravy.

“I feel like I don't know him anymore,” I said softly. “It's like we're strangers.”

She smiled. “I don't think he sees it that way.” She finally stopped stirring and turned to frown at me. “Maybe I'm wrong, but you don't seem to know how folks feel about you. I wonder if it's because you don't like yourself too much.”

She waited for me to respond, but I was wiped out from making it through my first morning working in the restaurant, almost being smothered by a mattress, and nearly choking to death.

“I have no idea. But regardless, I'm sure he's not the least bit interested in any kind of relationship with me. No man in his right mind would want to spend time with someone who acted as goofy as I did today.”

She shrugged and went back to her gravy. “I'm not tryin' to tell you your business, honey, but I hope you won't shut the door to possibilities. Life is full of 'em, you know.”

Yeah, and so far all of mine have been bad.
“Let's concentrate on tonight's dinner, okay? What do you want me to do?”

She sent me out to the dining room to clean up the tables, stock the condiments, refill the salt and pepper shakers, and make sure every table had sugar. I was about halfway through before I remembered the note from Noah. I pulled it out of my pocket and unfolded it.

Lizzie,

I'm so glad you've come back to Kingdom. If there's anything you need, I'm here for you. When you're not too busy, maybe we could spend some time together.

I've really missed you.
Noah

I reread the note several times before putting it back in my pocket. The idea of spending time with Noah stirred up something inside me I couldn't completely comprehend. But the thought of being near him made me feel happy. Maybe I'd take him up on his offer. I put the note back in my pocket and tried to concentrate on my work. But the rest of the day, I couldn't get Noah's emerald-green eyes out of my mind.

The next few days
passed quickly. Keeping my vow to Cora about not sharing her secrets proved to be one of the easiest things I'd ever done. I learned quickly that listening to her customers was a lot more interesting than talking about them. Exchanges between residents brought me a whole new perspective on Kingdom. Although being Matthew Engel's daughter caused some of Cora's customers to immediately halt their banter when I appeared at their table, most of them weren't quite quick enough. I caught several snatches of conversation before people had a chance to change the subject.

The number one topic of interest in Kingdom was the current upheaval going on in the church. Many of the older members were distressed about it, to say the least, but a majority of folks seemed to be all for it. Little by little, I began to understand that my father and his friends were in the minority, and that the rejection I'd felt when I'd gotten pregnant probably wasn't because people felt unkindly toward me. Most likely it was because they'd been too afraid to speak their minds and cross the elders. Many who had stayed silent back then began reaching out to me.

Except John and Frances Lapp, of course. Frankly, I was surprised they frequented the restaurant at all, seeing how my father felt about the place. Cora finally explained that Frances had been sickly for quite some time, and John couldn't cook. Although several of the women in the church helped them when they could, Frances and John relied on Cora's Corner Café to fill the gap. We didn't see them on Monday, but Tuesday, they walked through the door. Neither one of them seemed surprised to see me working. I was confident that by then news of my arrival and job at Cora's had spread throughout the town. When I started to approach their table, Cora, who had come out of the kitchen to see if I needed help, grabbed my arm.

“I'll take their order, honey,” she said. “You don't need to put yourself through that.”

I shook my head. “No, if I'm going to work here, I need to be able to serve everyone. I'll be fine.”

She grinned at me. “You got guts, girl. But if you change your mind, all you gotta do is let me know. I don't expect you to deal with folks that are just plain rude.”

“Thanks, Cora, but it's okay.”

And it was. I casually walked over to take their order. Talking to me seemed to put them in so much pain they could barely move their mouths, but we got through it. And to my surprise, once when I brought them fresh coffee, Frances even let a thank-you slip out. It may have been accidental, but I told her she was welcome and gave her a smile. Maybe it was only a small victory, but I counted it as a real step forward.

True to her word, my mother came back on Tuesday around eleven. She brought all kinds of towels, sheets, and blankets with her. She also brought an entire tin of butter cookies. Charity clapped her hands when she saw them, but I was mortified. The tin she used was the one I'd taken money from when I left Kingdom. After Charity left with Cora to take the cookies into the kitchen, I confessed to my mother.

“I knew you took the money, Daughter. It was saved for emergencies, and you had an emergency. My only regret is that it wasn't more.”

“Thank you, Mother,” I said, my voice catching. “I've felt guilty about it all these years. You were always good to me, and I took it without asking.”

She was silent for a moment before saying, “I was not a good parent, Lizzie. If I had been better, I probably would have gone with you.” She shook her head slowly. “The way your father treated you broke my heart. I challenged him about it more than once and asked him repeatedly to show you some compassion. I even went to Pastor Mendenhall, and he spoke to your father too. Our pastor believes in strict discipline, but he believes even more in love. However, our words fell on deaf ears.”

I was surprised by the revelation that my mother had tried to help me. “I thought you turned a blind eye to his treatment of me.”

She shook her head so violently, her bonnet almost slipped off. She reached up to adjust it. “Absolutely not. But I was raised to believe that married people should not air their disagreements in front of their children. It can cause confusion. This is why I confronted your father privately.”

“But he continued to treat me like dirt, Mother. I never felt a moment's love from that man.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and the anger I'd felt toward her turned to pity. My mother had been just as trapped as I'd been. She'd tried to find a way to protect me without being disobedient to her husband, but it had been a war she couldn't win. Her visit today was in direct rebellion to my father. He'd clearly told us we were not to step foot inside Cora's restaurant, and Mother was purposely ignoring his mandate. I could only surmise that he'd also commanded her to stay away from me, but I had no intention of asking her if that was true. No sense in stirring up something best left alone. For the first time, it seemed that my mother had chosen me over my father. It made me feel wonderful and guilty all at the same time.

“Elizabeth Lynn,” she suddenly blurted out, “I am going to say something that you may not believe, but I cannot keep silent about it.” She clasped her small hands together as if she were preparing to pray. “Daughter, your father
does
love you. He loves you very much.”

My mouth dropped open at her comment. “You've got to be kidding. He's never cared about me one day in his life.”

She wiped her eyes with her napkin and daintily blew her nose. “Matthew was brought up by a very stern father himself. You never met your grandfather Engel because he died before you were born, but he was the hardest man I have ever encountered. He drove a spirit of severity into your father, and he has not been able to rid himself of it. I never heard your grandfather say a kind word to his son. Not one.” She sighed. “It is sad, Daughter, but Matthew believes to this day that he has been a good parent. He has a difficult time understanding why you rebelled against him.”

I was dumbstruck—but only momentarily. “He told me more than once that I was going to hell, Mother. What parent tells their child something like that? There's no excuse . . .”

She put a hand to her heart, as if she felt pain there. “You are not going to hell, Elizabeth Lynn Engel. You are loved by God and loved beyond description by your mother. I am so proud of you.”

Her words, meant to comfort, only caused anguish. “How can you say that? I got pregnant, Mother. I knew better. I had a child out of wedlock. You can't be proud of that.”

“Yes, you sinned, Daughter. But God still loves you. Do you not see this when you look at Charity? Is she not a blessing from Him? Our heavenly Father gives us beauty for our ashes, Lizzie.”

I stared at her without responding. My daughter
was
the greatest blessing of my life. Why would God give her to me if He had rejected me?

The question rolled over and over in my mind the rest of the day. And that night before going to bed, I didn't actually offer another prayer, but I did manage to whisper, “Thank you for Charity,” before I drifted off to sleep.

My first few days at the restaurant also brought some wonderful surprises. On Tuesday Ruth Fisher ate at the café. She and I tried to talk, but the restaurant was very busy. She invited Charity and me to her house Thursday night for dinner, so we could catch up without interruption. Cora quickly gave me permission to go, since Thursday night was always slow and she usually closed early. I could hardly wait to spend some time with my old friend and found that I'd missed her even more than I'd realized. She was a lovely substitute for my grandmother.

Wednesday morning, Noah came in for breakfast. We were so busy, there was no time to visit, but I gave him a note I'd written in response to his. I didn't want to seem too eager to accept his invitation, but at the same time, I really wanted to convey feelings that were a little stronger than just a casual friendship. I must have accomplished my goal, because when he read it, he smiled. Although we didn't have a chance to plan a time to meet outside work, the anticipation excited me.

Hope slipped in the door Wednesday afternoon. I was so happy to see her I almost spilled the coffee I was pouring for Harold Eberly, who owns the local hardware store and comes in for lunch every day. Thank goodness he caught my attention seconds before his coffee cup ran over. I apologized profusely, set the pot on his table, and hurried over to where Hope stood, just inside the door.

“Hope,” I said, “I'm so glad to see you. I was going visit the quilt shop if you didn't make the first move.”

“Oh, Lizzie,” she said, “I heard you were back, and I could hardly believe it. Should I be glad or sad that you have returned to us?”

I smiled and gave her a quick hug. “Long story. Why don't you come over and sit down? As soon as I take care of Ebenezer Miller's egg salad sandwich, we can visit.”

Hope's eyes darted nervously around the almost empty room. “My father doesn't know I'm here, and I'm not sure how much time we'll have.”

“It will only take me a minute.” I grabbed her hand. “Please. Just sit down and wait. I'll be right back.”

She smiled and allowed me to lead her to a nearby table. I hurried to the kitchen, where Cora had just finished putting Ebbie's sandwich on a plate.

“Hope's here,” I told her. “Do you mind if I take a few minutes to visit with her? After delivering Ebbie's sandwich, everyone will have been served.”

“You go on,” Cora said with a smile. “You're doing great and deserve a break. Charity and I are thinking about taking an apple pie break ourselves.”

I smiled at my daughter, who was having a wonderful time learning how a restaurant kitchen runs. “Just a small piece, Cherry Bear. Okay?”

“Sure, Mama,” she said, returning my smile. “But it's gotta have ice cream.”

“Okay, but just a little bit.”

She grinned happily. “Just a little bit.”

I picked up Ebbie's plate and had just started to open the kitchen door when Charity called out for me.

I stopped and turned around. “Yes, sweetie?”

She stared solemnly at me. “I like it here, Mama. And Miss Cora really, really needs our help. I think we might have to live here forever.”

“We'll talk about it later, honey. Okay?”

She nodded, not satisfied by my answer but willing to put the subject on hold while she ate her pie.

As I left the kitchen, I had to fight emotions that swung wildly back and forth between joy and fear. I knew she was as serious as a six-year-old child could possibly be, but I couldn't make her any promises yet. I was thrilled she was happy, but until I knew for certain we would be safe in Kingdom, I couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear.

I gave Ebbie his sandwich, checked his coffee, and hurried over to where Hope waited for me. As I sat down next to her, I noticed Ebbie watching us closely. Hope smiled shyly at him once before turning her attention to me.

“How about some coffee, Hope? Or a piece of pie?”

She shook her head. “I don't have much time, Lizzie, but thank you.”

I marveled at how little she had changed. Her alabaster skin was still flawless, and her violet-blue eyes just as striking as I remembered. She looked a little paler, but it was winter and that could certainly account for it. Her blond hair, so light it was almost white, was wrapped in a bun and stuffed under her black bonnet. Wisps of hair that had escaped captivity framed her lovely face.

“Hope, I never got the chance to thank you for helping me leave Kingdom. I hope you didn't get in trouble over it.”

“Papa wasn't very happy, Lizzie. Nor was your father. But I've never regretted my decision.” Her eyes kept darting toward the front door. Hope's father was strict, but unlike mine, he was a just man. Why was she so nervous?

“How did the church react?”

She smiled. “Well, I was reprimanded by the elders, but I guess it could have been worse.”

“I'm sorry, Hope. I didn't mean to cause you problems.”

“Lizzie, if I had it to do all over again, I would do exactly the same thing. You were so unhappy.” Her forehead creased in a frown. “I truly believe most of our residents wanted to support you—to comfort you. But many were too afraid of retribution. I regret we weren't braver.”

I shook my head. “You were very brave. You have nothing to regret. And I'm learning that there is more love and understanding in this town than I realized. It's too bad we were all too timid to communicate better.”

“I completely agree.”

“So you and your father still run the quilt shop together?”

She nodded. “Yes, but since Papa has become more and more involved with church business, I'm usually alone in the store.”

“Church business? I understand my father and some of his friends are challenging the leadership.”

“Yes, and I'm worried about it. My father has been friends with Pastor Mendenhall for many years, yet like your father, he also fears that if we relax our standards our way of life may suffer.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Papa is meeting with your father and Pastor Mendenhall right now to try to bring some peace to our church. Even moments before he left, he still wasn't certain just where he stood on the issues being discussed.”

I frowned at her. “And what's your view, Hope?”

Her eyes widened at my question. Were there any women in Kingdom besides Cora who had a mind of their own? I was beginning to wonder.

“I . . . I honestly don't know. I see both sides.” She sighed and shook her head. “I have felt for a long time that we should show more love and forgiveness to the people in our congregation. Your situation is a perfect example. I'm still distressed that you felt you had to leave town to find peace.”