Wisdom Tree (13 page)

“Maybe you should have brought Rachelle here to your wisdom tree more often, and she might have grown to know you better, and learned to love what you do, as well.”

“I…never brought her here.”

“No?” The admission startled Carin. “Why?”

“I’m not sure. I guess somewhere deep inside I just sensed it wasn’t the right thing to do, to share this with her.” Jake shook off the idea. “That sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

“Depends on your definition of crazy, I guess.”

“It’s a special place to me, kind of sacred, something of my own, untouched by the daily lives of others. It was selfish, wasn’t it—to keep something so important from someone I was planning to share my life with?”

“There’s nothing selfish about you, Jake.” Carin wrapped a thread from the quilt around her finger, tugging to dispel the tension that gnawed her belly. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“I’m not hurt…not anymore. Dealing with the whole situation taught me something important—to cherish what really matters.”

“And what really matters is…?”

“My family…the church…my friends, and keeping Corey on the right path. He’s my responsibility, and I owe it to my parents to do things right. I want to be like them and like my grandparents. I want to build a legacy of the simplest kind that will stand strong long after I’m gone.”

“Hmmm…” Carin noted the determination in his gaze. It punched a hole right through the wall that eclipsed her heart. “That’s very wise.”

“Yeah…my wisdom tree.” Jake took her hand, drew her closer. “How about you, Carin? Have you ever been serious with anyone?”

A chill washed over her. Trusting Phillip…naïvely believing he was nothing but sincere in his feelings for her, had been the worst mistake of her life.
Oh, how could she have been so foolish?

“That’s a story for another day. Maybe we should head back to the church. It’s getting late.” Carin wiggled from his touch and leaned against the tree trunk to balance as she found her footing.

“Nice move.” Jake watched as she brushed grass from the seat of her jeans. “Very smooth change of subject. But I’ll respect your desire not to share right now, OK?”

“Thanks. I don’t want to…spoil all this.” Carin swept a hand across the cloud-wisped expanse of sky.

“That bad, huh?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I could definitely get used to sharing time with you here at the wisdom tree.”

Carin’s breath hitched. She swallowed hard to force back the lump that filled her throat. “That’s the nicest, sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Jake.” She hid her tears as she helped him gather the quilt. “And, for the record, I could definitely get used to it, too.”

“How about we stop for some lunch on the way back?” Jake bundled the quilt in one arm and reached for her hand. “It’s way past noon, and we worked hard on the garden this morning.”

“OK.” Carin swiped her eyes and attempted a smile. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want to show you something—someone, I mean—who can use a bit of company and a nice, warm meal, too.”

****

“Lilly, we brought you lunch.” Carin set the bucket of fried chicken on the table beside bowls of mashed potatoes smothered in gravy and buttered green beans. Warm, fluffy biscuits, and sweet tea rounded out the meal. “It’s your favorite again.”

“We?” Lilly gazed up from the rocking chair with crisp, gray eyes and squinted. “Who’s that with you?”

“This is Jake Samuels. And he brought a friend from next door—Pastor Julian.”

“Pastor Jake, from East Ridge Church?” Lilly leaned forward in the chair and set her crochet hook on her lap. “Come closer. I can’t see you.”

Jake removed his ball cap, took a few steps, and knelt beside the chair. The scent of spearmint gave the room a fresh feel, and he suddenly understood why Pastor Julian, whose room was just next door, often insisted his wife was close by. The spearmint scent must travel down the hall. “Here I am. Is this better?”

“Oh, much better.” Lilly turned to Pastor Julian. “Now, it’s your turn.”

Jake eased Pastor Julian closer, and he and Lilly gaped at each other. “So, you’re the lady who grows spearmint?” Pastor Julian asked.

“Sure.” Lilly nodded. “You want a sprig?”

“Nothing finer. Sure, I’ll have one. You got any sweet tea to go with that?”

“Right here.” Carin poured a round of glasses from the jug she and Jake had brought. She handed one to Pastor Julian. “Here you go.”

“What are you making?” Jake touched the tightly-stitched loops of soft pink yarn nestled on Lilly’s lap and admired the handiwork. “It looks complicated.”

“Nothing in life is too complicated when you take it one step at a time,” Lilly assured him.

“It’s a baby cap,” Carin explained. “Lilly makes them for the preemies in the NICU at Children’s Hospital.”

“So, you’re the one…I’ve seen the babies wearing them when I’ve gone to visit. I always wondered where they came from.”

“Mystery solved.” Lilly squinted again and placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Do you think you and Carin can drop them by the hospital on your way home? The lady who usually picks them up is under the weather this week, so she didn’t come to get them this morning.”

“Of course,” Jake agreed. “We drive right by there. It’s no problem at all.”

“Thank you.”

Carin set the dinette table with paper plates and plastic forks. “Where are your eyeglasses, Lilly? You’ll need them to stitch the caps.”

“I don’t know. I thought I set them on the table with my Bible, but…”

“I’ll mount a search,” Jake offered, standing to make a round of the room. “They can’t have gone too far.”

“Check the trash can,” Pastor Julian instructed. “I’ve found my fair share of lost things in the trash can.”

“Come on over to the table while Jake hunts, Lilly.” Carin placed the skein of yarn in the knitting bag beside the rocker and helped her from the chair. “You can drink your tea there.”

Lilly tilted her head, pausing to gaze at Carin as she eased herself from the chair. “You know what I like to drink, Elise, just like your father always did. He had to go away on business again, but he’ll be home Friday.”

“Where did he go, Lilly?” Carin asked. Jake heard the catch in her voice and glanced over to see a shadow of sadness cross her eyes as she helped Lilly settle in at the table.

“To Nashville, of course. He always had to go to Nashville.” Lilly spooned potatoes into her mouth. “We should save a piece of chicken for him, and a scoop of potatoes. He’ll be home in a few days.”

Carin was slow to respond. But when she did, her tone was light and even. “Of course we should. Maybe he’d like a biscuit, too?”

“Oh, yes. Biscuits are his favorite.”

Jake found a trash can beside Lilly’s desk. He lifted it, jostled the contents, and saw the wire-rimmed spectacles. “You were right, Pastor Julian. I found the glasses.” Jake reached into the trash can. “They must have gotten mixed up with breakfast.” A banana peel covered one wire arm, and Jake shook it from the metal. “I’ll clean them for you, Lilly.”

“See, I told you. Ava’s favorite hiding place.” Pastor Julian sipped his tea.

“Pastor Jake, right?” Lilly turned in her chair at the sound of his voice, and as quickly as she’d slipped away, she came back to them. But her gaze was a bit dazed, her voice hesitant. “Are you a friend of Carin’s?”

“Yes,” Jake said softly as he wiped the glasses with the hem of his T-shirt then handed them to Lilly. He settled in beside her near the table. “That’s right. Let’s eat now, OK? You don’t want the food to get cold.”

Lilly reached for a piece of chicken. “Did I tell you about the time Elise got into my makeup?”

“No.” The worried look on Carin’s face made it difficult for Jake to swallow the bite of biscuit he’d stuffed into his mouth. He chewed and washed the crumbs down with a sip of tea.

“Why don’t you tell us now?” Pastor Julian urged in his gravelly voice. “Get on with it.”

Lilly dug into the bowl of green beans. “She was six, I think, and school was out for the summer. Oh, I loved the summers! Elise and I had such wonderful times together playing in the sunshine. I taught her how to plant a garden and how to can squash and carrots.” She slipped a forkful of green beans into her mouth. “Anyway, Elise liked to go into my room and play dress- up with my clothes and jewelry, and especially with my shoes. Those days I wore all the high heels, because they were the latest fashion and I was young and foolish.” She drew a sigh. “She would put those heels on her little feet, dress herself up, and parade around the house like a movie star. I remember how the heels used to clack across the linoleum in the kitchen while I cooked dinner for Albert.”

Jake could almost picture it…a little girl dreaming of the adventures to come while her mom fussed over the stove. “What happened with the makeup, Lilly?”

“Well, we were getting ready to go to the town square for the Fourth-of-July parade and fireworks show, and I thought I’d gussy myself up a little. So I had all my makeup spread out across the dresser—the lipsticks and rouges, pressed powder and eyeliner.”

“Oh, no. She didn’t…” Jake’s words faded as he drew a breath and gathered Carin close to his side.

“Yes, she did. I was just about to paint the canvas, so to speak, when the phone rang. I went to answer it, and my Aunt Myrtle burned my ears for half an hour. By the time I got back to the bedroom—oh, boy—Elise had worn the lipsticks to tiny nubs drawing a mural of flowers across the walls. Oh, she was naughty that day! But I just couldn’t be angry with her, even though I had to go to the celebration with bare lips and pale cheeks. And Albert wouldn’t think of painting over the artwork. Said it added character to the room. So we slept among the flowers until Albert passed on, and I sold the house and moved away.” She sighed, and her voice caught. “Oh, I miss him so.”

11

“The sonnet is a love poem,” Carin instructed her sixth-period class as she scribbled notes across the whiteboard. “It’s to be filled with heartfelt emotion.”

“I don’t have no need for love poems,” Jimmy Doyle grumbled from his seat at the back of the room. “Why do we gotta learn this stuff?”

“You
gotta
,” Carin emphasized, “because, luckily, hope springs eternal for even the most undeserving of us all.”

“Oh, Jimmy,” Julia chimed in, “what Miss O’Malley means is you might get lucky enough to coax some girl into dating you one day, and you’ll want to have a clue about how to keep her, since you probably won’t be getting any second chances. Isn’t that right, Miss O’Malley?”

“Thank you, Julia, for that very insightful observation.” Carin switched on the overhead projector and an outline flashed across the whiteboard. “Now, as I was saying—”

“Someone’s at the door, Miss O’Malley,” Julia interrupted.

Carin glanced up and saw Jake through the glass. He smiled and offered a quick wave as the dismissal bell rang. The students shuffled in their seats, gathering books and backpacks, ready to bolt. Carin lifted a hand to still them. “OK, we’ll discuss this further tomorrow. Remember to bring the rough draft of your sonnet to class and be prepared to share.” She dropped her hand and nodded slightly. “You may go now.”

Chair legs scraped against tile as students rushed for the door. Jake sidestepped and wove his way through the mass, nodding to a few of the kids he knew from church. He stopped just short of Carin’s desk and grinned. “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all.” Carin switched off the overhead light, leaving the fan on. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too. So, you’re teaching the kids how to write love poems?”

“They’re going to pass love notes anyway. Might as well teach them the correct way to compose one.”

“Makes sense.” Jake rocked back on his heels. “I guess I’d better brush up on my technique, then.”

Carin laughed. “You can always audit my class.”

Jake planted a hand on her desk and leaned in. “That’s nice…hearing you laugh.”

“You seem to have a knack for tickling my funny bone.”

“We all have our hidden talents.” Jake winked. “Are you free to leave now, or do you have lessons to plan and essays to slash?”

“I have some papers to grade, but they can wait.” Carin breathed in the scent of soap and aftershave, noted the pressed khakis and a navy polo that hugged his ample biceps. “I’ve run out of my infamous green ink, anyway.”

“I came by to check on you. You were pretty upset when we left Lilly last night.”

“Yeah.” She followed the curve of his clean-shaven jaw, noted genuine concern in his eyes. “Sorry about that. Crying seems to be my specialty lately.”

“I’d like to change that.”

“Oh?” Her heart did a little two-step. “How?”

“With a dose of football, maybe some dinner afterwards.”

“Football?”

“Sure. Want to head over to the ball field and catch Corey’s game? They’re playing the top rival this afternoon.”

“Well.” She remembered now that Corey had mentioned the game to her as he left class that morning. “I certainly couldn’t miss that. And there
is
something I need to talk to you about.”

“Such as…?”

“Not here.” Carin gathered her tote and purse. “Let me put these essays in my car; then we can head to the field, if you want.”

Jake nestled the stack of books she handed him in one hand and reached for her with his other. “Sounds like a plan.”

****

“What did you buy at the concession stand?” Jake asked as he spread a blanket across the concrete stadium bleacher. Carin settled in beside him, zipping her windbreaker.

“Mini peanut butter cups.” The bag rustled as she opened it. “Want some?”

“They’re my favorite.” Jake delved into the bag and came out with a small handful. He tossed the candy into his mouth. “How did you know?”

“Corey mentioned it in his journal.” Carin uncapped a bottle of water. “He wrote he has to hide them from you after you grocery shop because you’ll eat the entire bag. His exact words, I believe, were, ‘I didn’t get any of the peanut butter cups last night because my big fat pig of a brother ate the whole bag before I had a chance to hide them.’”