Stardust Miracle (20 page)

Elsa shook her head, still smiling, still calm, still missing the signs of jeopardy. “From what I hear you’ve already torn the family unit apart. Alienating both of your daughters isn’t very well done of you.”

“Don’t you—”

“Yes, me.” Though the smile never left her face, steel edged her voice. “No one has more right to be here than me.”

Becky frowned. Something was going on between her father and Elsa, but right now she was more concerned about Sarah than finding out what it was. 

Jim stepped onto the porch the same instant that Carl leaned closer to Elsa. Jim clasped Carl’s shoulder.

“Don’t let her goad you,” Jim said, his words putting the blame on Elsa.

Slowly, Carl turned to look at him. Jim’s head blocked the view of her father’s eyes, but Becky felt the air crackle. As if a bad electrical storm were going to explode around them any second. 

“Pastor Jim,” Elsa said, the steel in her voice gone. She sounded pleased to see Jim. “It’s too bad we’re meeting on such a sad day.” She peered over his shoulder to Becky. “Hello, Becky. May I come in?”

Though Becky couldn’t see Carl’s eyes, he twisted from Jim to Elsa, and his big body tensed, as if ready to spring. Becky jerked the screen door open, and Jim shifted out of the way. With a smooth move, Elsa nodded at the two men then strolled inside while Becky held her breath.

For a moment, hatred flashed across her father’s face. Becky feared he would chase after Elsa.

The screen door clanged shut. Becky grabbed the wooden front door that looked thick enough to hold off a band of marauding Vikings. She shoved it shut. Her arms straight, her palms flat on the door, fingers splayed, she slanted against it with all her weight. As if the Vikings were on the other side, about to slam a giant tree trunk against it and batter the door down. She turned the deadbolt.

Fingertips brushed against her upper back. She jerked, then whipped around. 

“It’s okay,” Elsa murmured. “You can relax. You don’t have to save the world.”

Becky stared at her. “You don’t know.”

Elsa put her hand to the side of Becky’s face. A strange but familiar gesture from someone she hardly knew. But it didn’t feel strange...

Elsa’s palm was cool and calming against Becky’s heated skin. Then her hand slid off and she stepped back. “I know more than you think.”

She walked to the living room, as if she’d been in this house many times before. As if she knew she’d be welcome.

Becky almost expected to see sparkles as she kept her gaze glued on Elsa’s straight back. There did seem to be a glow about her, but Becky marked it up to her powerful personality. Super charisma, as if rays of light and sun sought her out. 

What did Elsa know? And how? And why did her father hate Elsa so much?

Chapter Thirty-one

Elsa acted as if she’d forgotten Carl. As if he bothered her less than a mosquito bite. Instead of dwelling on the scene that just happened on the doorstep, she helped Sarah and Becky make phone calls and funeral arrangements. Not taking over and pushing them out of the way. Just there to do whatever needed to be done.

Sarah was happy to let her take over some of it, as was Becky. Becky had helped parishioners through this, but it had never been easy for her. The questions and considerations brought back memories of her mother’s funeral. And with every newly surfaced memory it seemed as if death stalked her.

Elsa left twenty minutes later, the bleakness of the day a bit brighter...the toxic pall left behind by her father dissipated.

Sarah’s expression was strained when she went across the street to get Cody. She told Becky that she needed to go alone.

When they came back, Sarah’s attention was on Cody. He took the news badly. He’d been getting too old to cuddle, or so he’d said, but he reverted. Sarah and Becky took turns sitting with him. Only a few more phone calls trickled in. Becky thought people were either respecting their privacy or they were fearful of offending Carl by offering his daughter sympathy.

Though Sarah’s house was on a fairly secluded dead end, Becky had no doubt that news of her father’s unsuccessful visit was keeping the phones buzzing. If Homeland Security were half as diligent as the citizens of Miracle, there would be no need for body cavity searches at airports.

In the afternoon, Cody fell asleep in the puppy room and their Uncle Sam came over. Tall and lanky, he wore his black-streaked white hair pulled back in a rubber band. In his late sixties, he was still good looking with a bony face that was sculptured by age. The deep, vertical lines on the sides of his face came from grinning. He was a man who enjoyed life. According to the gossip, he’d enjoyed it a little too well.

Becky’s mother had adored her stepbrother. Her father, on the other hand, often said he thought Sam didn’t live up to his capabilities. But Becky suspected her father was jealous of Sam’s contentment.

Like her dad, Sam could’ve been the guy in the western that everyone looked up to, but not because he was the rich rancher who acted like John Wayne. Sam would’ve been the maverick. The loner who came in to save the day, make love to the senorita and then leave to do it again at the next town.

Right now Sam was saving the day for them, sitting at Sarah’s kitchen table, telling her he’d taken care of Marsh’s truck. He even offered to talk to Elsa about paying for the funeral arrangements. But Sarah held her head high and said taking care of the truck was enough and she’d take care of the arrangements.

“Guess I’ll get going then.” He stood. “Don’t worry about the rent for the storage buildings. It’s not like I’m growing anything there anyway.” He winked.

“You hardly charge us anything as it is.”

Becky noticed the way Sarah said
us
. She had to look away from Sarah’s sad face, suspecting it would be a while before she would say
I
.

But Sarah still had Cody. She was still part of an ‘us.’ And she had Becky, too – for as long as Sarah needed her.

“Don’t make anything big out of it,” Sam said. “I don’t need the extra money.”

“Uncle Sam, you—”

“Not a word.” He held up his hand. “You need anything, you just call.”

He headed toward the back door, but a whining noise made him shift to face the hall. It took Sarah and Becky a half second longer to turn. They all saw Cody in the hall, barefoot and carrying the black puppy. 

“You been listening?” Sam strode toward him, looking down.

Cody nodded.

Sam nodded, too. “Good. Sometimes you gotta listen to know what’s going on.”

“He’s got a name.” Cody looked down at the puppy, then up at Sam. “You wanna know what it is?”

“’Course.”

“Sam. I named him after you.”

“That’s a real honor.” Sam put his hand on the puppy’s head and rubbed behind its left ear. “But what if he’s outside playing and I’m over on the other side of the trees, looking at my plants, and at the same time you and your mama call out ‘Sam?’ What if we both come running?”

Cody laughed. Though he stopped right away, his eyes remained bright. “I’ll call him Sammy then.”

Sam straightened. “Good name. No one calls me Sammy. I don’t have to worry about anyone mistaking me for the dog.”

“As long as you don’t grow a tail.” Cody gave a choked giggle.

“How do you know I don’t have one?” Sam winked, ruffled Cody’s hair, gave the puppy’s ear a soft pull, nodded at Sarah and Becky then strode out the back door.

The door closed after him, and Becky and Sarah breathed a sigh at the same time. Becky turned to Sarah. “I wonder why he never married,” Becky said.

“He was married!” Cody said. “That’s why he’s got Katie.”

Becky and Sarah shared a glance, then Sarah swiveled to Cody and told him to take the puppy back into the puppy room. A good way to get around the subject of a couple never marrying but having a baby. A good way to avoid talking about their cousin Katie’s addict mother.

As soon as he was gone, Becky said, “I think Uncle Sam was in love with Mom.”

“No!”

“It would’ve been legal. They’re steps, not real brother and sister. Not even halves.”

“I know, but...” Sarah stopped, her mouth closed but her eyes still big. 

Becky nodded. Knowing what Sarah was thinking. That they could’ve been Sam’s daughters instead of their dad’s. “She was two years older than him, but she was pretty.” She thought of Derek and their age difference. “Besides, two years is nothing.”

“She wasn’t pretty,” Sarah said. “She was
beautiful
.”

Becky frowned and pictured her mom in her mind as she’d looked in the last year of her life. Bald, with a face rounded from the steroids she took for the pain. Sarah obviously remembered her mostly from the photos hung around their house when their mother was young and healthy...when she shone brightly like a star.

“She was...special,” Becky said, and the ache inside her started again. The whole time her mother was sick, she always smiled to see Becky and Sarah. Even when she was in the deepest pain. Even as she lay dying.

Her mom had been sick for so long, but every once in a while Becky still missed her so much it felt like a boulder had grown inside her chest and would never go away. “Sam enlisted just before she and Dad married. He was seventeen, but he’d graduated from high school and his father signed his papers.”

“I wonder what happened to turn him to—” Sarah shrugged and lifted her hands in a ‘you know’ gesture.

“War happened.” Becky shrugged, too. If Sam grew a few medicinal plants in his field, she didn’t see the harm in that. Neither did anyone else in the village, including their constable. From what Becky heard, Jerry’s brother, Rob, home from Afghanistan after a medical discharge, was a big user of their uncle’s plants.

“Death happened.” Sarah’s whisper cut through Becky’s thoughts. Sarah stood slowly, her spine a sad curve. “He saw men die. He learned what counted.”

Becky stared at her. Not knowing what to say as sorrow for Sarah pulsed through her blood.

“I’m going into the puppy room with Cody. He was napping with the puppies before.” Sarah shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I’ll sleep with him there, too. At least for tonight.”

The phone rang, and they froze for a moment. Becky stood to get it, but Sarah shook her head and moved toward the counter. “I can’t be babied all the time. I have to—” She stopped, looked at the phone, and her back straightened.

Seeing the sudden change, Becky stepped to her side and saw the name on the Caller ID.

“I think that’s for you.” Sarah looked at her with a sly smile. “It’s Boy Number One.”

Chapter Thirty-two

“How is Sarah?” Derek spoke in the hushed voice people used in a hospice when the dying person was in the same room. As the minister’s wife, Becky had been in too many of these situations.

Now she had a personal stake. It was never easy, but being on this end was a million times worse.

“She’s fine,” Becky said, hearing the deadness in her own voice.

“You’re sure? You don’t sound the same.”

I’ve been through a horrible experience. Last night my brother-in-law was killed. I saw the truck after the accident, I knew he was inside. I knew he was probably dead. What do you think I should sound like?

“It’s been a rough time.”

“Of course.” He cleared his voice, a sound that made her think of Elaine. Becky liked Derek’s mother, but Elaine always cleared her throat during Jim’s sermon. Elaine blamed it on her MS, but Becky had done an online search and didn’t find that throat clearing was a symptom of the disease.

She liked Elaine. She really did. But she had to admit Elaine enjoyed being the center of attention, with people feeling sorry for her.

“I wish I could come over and help,” he said, “but I have to take Mom to the doctor’s.”

“Oh? Is she worse?”

“As soon as she heard the news about Marsh, she got very agitated.”

“Really?”

“Because of her condition, she’s sensitive to these things.” He sounded like he was quoting words he’d memorized. “Especially when it happens to someone she knows.”

“Really? That’s too...too...bad.” Even more than Elaine’s cough, Becky disliked the way Elaine always had to be worse than anyone else.

“I really wanted to be with you,” Derek said. “We should be home in an hour or two, depending on how long we have to wait. Dr. G is squeezing her in.”

She leaned forward, her elbows on the counter. She was becoming cynical and bitter. And feeling like a bit of a fool for having sex with him when he was turning out to be a huge mama’s boy.

Not that she faulted him for taking Elaine to the doctor’s. She admired him for taking such good care of his mother. She admired him for still wanting to come over and take care of her this afternoon.

But she would admire him more if once in a while, he said no to Elaine.

“You need me to do anything,” he said, “I’m your man.” 

“I’m sure.” But right now she didn’t really want her own man. Right now she’d prefer a baby. And Derek wasn’t a candidate.

A whine came from the puppy room.

Or a really cute black puppy.

“My mom has to go now. She said to give you and Sarah her condolences.”

“Tell her thank you. I hope she’s better soon. Bye.”

“I’ll be thinking about you.”

But you’ve chosen to be with her.
She put the phone down then hung her head over the table, squeezing her eyelids tight.

She had to stop this silent angst and sarcasm. Before this she’d been too nice. Now she was too bitchy – in her thoughts, at least. If she weren’t careful, she’d turn into someone she didn’t like very much.

In the end, it wasn’t what other people said that mattered: it was how she felt about herself.

Her cell phone rang, and she picked it up. This time she saw Trey’s name, and she put it to her ear with a smile. Not thinking any sarcastic thoughts. Not after last night. Not with her body still humming a sweet song.

“Hey,” he said.

She stood, took a step to the counter and leaned back against it, crossing her legs. “Hey yourself. Where are you?”