Believing the Dream (39 page)

Now Elizabeth had to fight the tears that attacked her as swiftly as had the giggles. She reached over and laid a hand on his. “And for much of my knowledge and experience, I have you to thank.”

He cleared his throat. “Best not be lounging here all day, no matter how pleasurable. You get on with that letter, and I’ll be on my way.” He stuck out his hand, which she ignored and gave him a hug instead. “Go with God’s blessing as you learn to use the gifts He has given you.”

Elizabeth put the letter in the mail the next morning and continued on to her father’s office. Today she would get the accounts in order and remind him that he needed to find an assistant for the summer. There was no way he could do it all himself. Sure was a shame Thorliff could not have stayed on. She nodded and smiled to the folks she met on her way, and it wasn’t until she reached the door to the newspaper office that the thought struck her. What if Dr. Morganstein had already filled that position? Perhaps she shouldn’t mention her letter until she received an answer. But then, she had never told her parents about the first letter. She stopped stock still, her hand still on the door. Had Dr. Gaskin spoken with her mother? What a quandary, and all because she was trying to protect her mother.
Lord, no wonder you order against a deceitful heart, even when mine wasn’t meant to be one
.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” The deep voice from behind her made her turn with delight.

“Ah, Thornton, you are just the right one.”

“I am? How wonderful, but why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?”

She tapped the third button on his coat. “You can play pastor and help me out of my dilemma.”

“The last time I agreed to, and I quote, ‘help you out of a dilemma,’ I got more problems than I planned on.”

She cocked her head to the right and gazed up at him. “Why do you think that? I kept you safe from all the young ladies who accosted you so recklessly.”

“True. Never mind, I didn’t mean anything by that.” He took a step back, and by the time he looked into her eyes again, whatever she’d glimpsed there was gone, and his teasing laughter had returned. He took her hand, tucked it under his arm, and swept off his boater with the other. “At your service, milady.”

“Thornton Wickersham, I’m not in the mood for your teasing. I need a wise answer and I need it now.”

“Can we search for this wise answer over a soda at Mrs. Sitze’s?” The ice-cream parlor nearby was well frequented by students from both colleges and the townspeople too.

“That will be fine, but I need to get to work too.”

“On this fine day I thought perhaps we could go for a ride in the country.” Matching his steps to hers, he smiled down at her.

With a sigh she shook her head. “I have to get Father’s accounts in order. And that’s why we need to talk.”

“Because of your father’s accounts?”

“No, no. This is a long story, so—”

“So perhaps we should order double sodas if we need fortifying for a l-o-n-g story.”

“Be serious, if you can.”

“Oh, I can. What flavor would you like? Black cherry?”

“That will be fine. Let’s sit in the back under the awning.” She pointed through the red and white decor to the sun-shaded porch in the back. “I’ll go save us a table.”

“And so,” she said sometime later with the sodas nearly gone, “that’s what my quandary is. What words of wisdom do you have for me?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Thornton, that has nothing to do with it. You’re leaving for home and—”

“No, I’m not.” He interrupted her. Something he rarely did.

She stopped sucking on her straw and stared at him. “I thought you were going home for the summer and then starting your first term at the seminary in the fall.”

“I was, but now I’ve been offered a position in Minneapolis, and I was coming to tell you. It should give me enough money to cover my first year at the seminary.” He dropped his voice and looked down at the table. “That is, if I don’t get a call to the mission field first.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Let us turn our attention back to your dilemma. I believe you should sit your mother and father down at the same time, so you don’t have to go through it twice, tell them exactly what happened and why you did it that way, and then . . .” He gave a half shrug and raised one eyebrow.

“Yes, and then?”

“And then you have two choices: run like a scared rabbit and don’t return until you are certain they have simmered down, or sit there and listen without answering back or justifying yourself.”

Elizabeth leaned back against the heart-shaped, twisted wire back of the chair. “Is this the kind of advice you plan on dispensing as a pastor?”

Thornton took a slow draw on his straw. “Hmm.”

“Hmm what?”

“Hmm, I’m thinking.”

“God help us.”

“That’s what I forgot. I forgot to tell you to pray first.” He leaned back, complacency written all over his handsome face.

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“And of the two, which would you do?”

“Neither. I wouldn’t have let myself get into such a pickle in the first place.”

“Well, thank you, but everyone can’t be as perfect as you.”

“Now, Elizabeth, don’t pout. It doesn’t become you.”

“I’m not pouting.” She twirled her straw in the now empty soda glass. “I just want some other choices. No, to be honest, I just want it over, so I shall talk with them tonight.” She looked over at him from under her lashes. He wouldn’t be here when she returned from her month or two in Chicago. Funny, but the thought twinged on her heartstrings.
Sure, silly, it’s all right for you to be gone, but everyone else should stay the same
. “I better get back to the newspaper. Father is going to be calling around looking for me.”

“I’ll walk you back.”

“Not necessary.”

“I know.”

They exchanged news of the town as they ambled back to the office, and with a tip of his hat, he left her there and continued up the street. For a moment Elizabeth watched him go, then pushed her way into the office, blinking in the dimness, the bell over the door tinkling her entrance.

“That telephone is going to be the death of me yet.” Her father brushed past her, reaching for his hat as he left.

“Where are you going?”

“Barn fire out south of town. If only Thorliff were here. He could cover it.”

“Since when—”

But the door slammed behind him, setting the bell to jangling. Elizabeth wanted to rip it off the wall.

The note on his desk asked that she call the head of the women’s missionary society from the Methodist church about their ice-cream social that had been held on Saturday. Someone was supposed to send in a write-up, and if they didn’t do it today, they would miss this week’s edition.

“Thorliff, where are you?”

While her father returned late, Elizabeth kept to her resolve. After supper she invited them both into the music room, where she sat down at the piano. Listening to her play always put them in a gentle mood. But while she tried to relax, her shoulders kept hitching up to her earlobes, and she could tell the difference in the way her fingers felt stiff on the keys. She knew her mother could too, but she persisted, playing their favorite pieces and ending with “Rock of Ages.”

“Thank you, dear, that was lovely.” Annabelle laid her needlepoint in her lap. “Shall I have Cook bring tea in here?”

This is the first time she’s had her stitching out since before she got sick
. The thought pleased Elizabeth, making what she planned even more possible. “Before she does that, I have something I need to talk with you about.” Elizabeth left the piano bench and went to sit on the floor in front of the sofa where her parents sat close together.

“You want to sit here?” Phillip patted the seat beside him.

“No, thanks.”
I need to see your faces
. Elizabeth wrapped her hands around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “A few weeks ago I received a letter from Dr. Morganstein inviting me to come and work in her hospital for as long as I wanted to this summer. There would be no pay but room and board and the certainty of a variety of experiences I’ve not access to here.” She raised a hand to stop her mother’s interruption. “I sent her back an apology, turning the invitation down because of the situation we were in here due to the measles and the aftermath.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Annabelle clung to her husband’s hand.

“I . . . you . . . ah . . .” Elizabeth wasted little energy on the minuscule shrug. “Be that as it may, I did what I felt was best at the moment. But now things are somewhat different. I thought to stay here, Mother, and make sure you kept improving like you have been. I know it is slow, but Dr. Gaskin assures me that you will regain all your strength and—”

“And you were willing to give up a summer at the hospital in Chicago to care for your mother?” Annabelle leaned forward to tip her daughter’s chin up with one finger. “And I would have let you.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you talk this over with us?” Phillip crossed one leg over the other, ankle resting on the opposite knee.

“I . . .” Elizabeth sucked on her bottom lip. “I . . . it’s time I begin to make my own decisions, and I didn’t want to add any pressure to either of you or to myself, as a matter of fact.” She raised her gaze to meet her father’s. “I am growing up, you know.”

“Only too well.” Her father huffed and laid a hand on his wife’s back. “We appreciate your trying to make things easier for us. Right, dear?”

Annabelle nodded but without looking at either of them.

Get it all out on the table
. “I mailed a letter to Dr. Morganstein this morning asking if she still has a place for me, telling her I could leave as soon as she lets me know. I gave her our telephone number.” Elizabeth laid her cheek on her knees and watched her mother. “I would really like your blessing, and it’s not like a lifetime commitment. Only a month or a little more, and then I will be back home getting ready for my senior year.”

“While I’m not thrilled that you didn’t come to us from the beginning, I understand, and of course you have our blessing.” Phillip paused and looked to his wife.

The silence stretched before Annabelle finally looked to Elizabeth. “I was hoping you would be content at home and we would have more time together, perhaps even go on another vacation as a family.”

Elizabeth sighed. How could her mother make her feel so guilty with so few words?

“But, as your father has said, we give you our blessing.”

Is there a
but
hanging on the end of that sentence, or am I imagining things?
Elizabeth leaned against her mother’s skirt and raised a hand to grasp her mother’s. “Thank you. Perhaps if you feel up to it, you could come to Chicago when it is time for me to come home, and we could go shopping.”
A fate near bad as death but if it will make her smile, it’s worth it
.

“Perhaps. If I feel strong enough.”

Looking at the purple shadows around her mother’s eyes and the pale skin, Elizabeth tightened her grip. “You will.”
Surely you will. God, please, please make this all right
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT