CHAPTER 3
Two hundred thousand dollars. Bren stood at the gas pump, filling the church van before she headed home. Typically almost everyone stopping for gas was a face she knew, so she waved and smiled and did some chitchat. But her mind was still roller coastering up and down the mental hills of two hundred thousand dollars. Two hundred thousand dollars. Two hundred thou. Two hundred K. Two hundred grand.
Anyway you said it, it was beyond anything shed imagined.
As a child, shed grown up safe financially. But that was the last time she remembered not worrying about every dime and every bill.
Hey, Mrs. Price, how you doing? Joey greeted her when she plucked a few bills from her cracked wallet. Hed galloped out of the station to clean her windows the instant hed seen the church van. She had to give him something.
Doing just fine, Joey. Hows your mom? Her foot any better?
There was no way to escape the conversation. She knew Joey and his sister, knew their mom, knew what a rough road the family had had ever since the mom had been laid up with foot surgery. Shed carted over dinners herself the first week. Charles had added prayers for them in his church sermon. People mattered more than money, so darn it, caring just couldnt be rushed. But when Bren finally climbed back into the church van, she hoped God would forgive herand the Virginia cops, toobecause she sped out of town as fast as the old engine would let her.
Giddy euphoria danced in her pulse. She couldnt wait to tell Charles about their good fortune. She could picture the relief on his face. Picture them sharing a moment of joy together. Picture that harsh look of stress ease on his face for the first time in months.
She wheeled through yellow lights at Willow, then Main, then wheeled left on Baker Road. She supposed it didnt make too much sense to speed past the courthouse, then past the police and fire stations, as well. But there wasnt a policeman in town who didnt know her, so if one was going to do something wrong, Bren figured she might as well do it in plain sight. Past all that busy part of town, of course, was their Church of Peace.
A little neighborhood of houses clustered around their church. Maybe someone thought the area would become a bedroom community of D.C. back in the fifties, but that kind of prosperity never discovered the area. People were hanging on, raising their kids, but this side of Righteous was visibly struggling.
Their church looked as wilted as the rest of the structures. She was just a white frame building, long and narrow, with their housethe parsonagejust beyond the parking lot. Charles often used their home for different gatherings; so did she. The church basement was also huge, ample for events like bible readings and meals and craft sales and all that kind of thing. Even had an old, spotless kitchen down there. Bren had planted bushes and flowers when they could afford them, taken care that the church was always polished and spotlessly clean. So maybe it didnt look like much on the outside, but inside it was safe and peaceful and had that warm-glow welcoming feeling.
Or it used to. Before things got so tight.
She parked at the house but hightailed it immediately toward the office at the back of the church, assuming shed find Charles there. But no. She found nothing but dust motes dancing silently in the sunlight. The message light blinked on the answering machine. Charless jacket still hung on the old pine tree. A sermon in progress sat half-finished on the desk.
He must have taken off for some reason, and she wanted to head straight for the house, to check there. But first she grabbed a pen and paper and took the messages. Whenever Charles came back, hed want to know who had called and why, and often enough, she could field questions on her own, without bothering him.
That done, she hustled toward the house, realizing with a half laugh that she was out of breath, had been probably since shed left the jewelers. Charles! she called as she pushed open the screen door to the kitchen and then stopped abruptly.
Charles had his white shirt rolled up, hands on his hips. He swiveled around abruptly when he heard the door open. She had the impression hed been pacing. Her heart sank fifty-seven feetand fastwhen she saw the straight-lipped, tight-jawed expression on his face.
Where were you? He asked it in that certain tone. The tone that claimed he had tons and tons and tons of patience and now was completely out.
She tried to calm her panicky pulse, but that particular tone always rub-burned her nerves. She couldnt think when he was irritated with her. And though shed always valued honesty, she heard a half-truth babble from her mouth. I was just talking to a woman in town
What woman? he demanded, again his tone sharper than ice.
She couldnt explain why she hedged telling him the whole truth. Its not that she wanted to lie to himever, everbut when she felt that anger coming at her, some instinct took over. She wasnt thinking about lies or truth. She was just thinking about doing whatever she could to mollify him. No one from the church, Charles. No one you would have felt you needed to talk to yourself. Just a woman who stopped to chat with me. I didnt think there was a problem. I had no idea you were waiting for me
He yanked out a chair from the kitchen table, making a scraping noise that made her jump. She understood he wanted her to sit down, which seemed a fair idea, for them to try sitting and talking togetheronly Charles didnt sit.
Once she was parked, he loomed over her and started talking in that tone again. The acid tone. The acid-angry scary-quiet tone. I took you in when you were an orphan. You had nothing and no one, remember that? Just your dad in a hospital bed and no way to take care of him or yourself. You didnt have a roof over your head. I still remember how beautiful you were. How lost. Seventeen, and so crippled on the inside to lose your mother and sister in the same accident. But I came through for you, didnt I, Bren? Didnt I?
Yes. I know you did. And Ive always been grateful
This is how you show me how grateful you are? He yanked out another chair, just to make the squeaky noise again, just to vent more of that rage. Maybe just to make her jump again. By disappearing for hours at a time?
But, Charles, I had no idea you needed me for anything this afternoon
Right. How could you know when you didnt even bother to ask? He switched subjects faster than an eye blink. I had the pastor breakfast this morningassuming you could bother remembering. Everyones doing a fund-raiser for the hurricane in the south. We need to put on a fund-raiser, too. A bigger one. A lot bigger and better one than the Baptists are putting on.
All right. She was thrilled to change the subject. Even though she knew that part of his anger was nerves and stress and not necessarily about her, somehow he made her feelsmall. When he started ranting like that, she just wanted to sit tight with her knees together and her arms pressed at her sides and her head tucked, so that she took up the tiniest amount of space possible. It was kind of a goofy sensation. Just wanting to make herself as close to invisible as she could get.
She should be listening to her husband and working on the problem, working on and with him, instead of hiding out in some goofy mental corner. It shamed her that she wanted to disappear like a child instead of handling the real problems between them. But right then, God help her, she just wanted him to calm down and lose that icy look.
She should be listening to her husband and working on the problem, working on and with him, instead of hiding out in some goofy mental corner. It shamed her that she wanted to disappear like a child instead of handling the real problems between them. But right then, God help her, she just wanted him to calm down and lose that icy look.
Whatever youve been spending your time on, it isnt as important as this. I want you to spearhead this fund-raiser. I need ideas for something different. Something that will really grab the communitys attention and interest. Not the same old bake sale or craft sale. Something good.
Shed put on the last bake sales and yard sales and craft sales. All of them had brought in hefty donations, shed thought. Just not enough to satisfy her husband. But it wasnt his fault that times were so hard.
Okay, Ill be glad to, she said.
I want some kind of plan to discuss by dinner tonight.
She didnt look at her watch, didnt dare, but thought it had to be already past three. Charles was still circling the table, finding things to thump around, but at least hed stopped looming over her.
Then Ill include information about it in the sermon this Sunday, put it all together, start to get our parishioners excited about it. We need to look proactive.
She lifted her head, feeling a spark of enthusiasm catch her now, too. I couldnt agree more. We should be proactive in times of trouble like this. And maybe you could put just a little less fire and brimstone in your sermon. Concentrate more on themes about coming together, on
God. Shed blown it again. He surged around the table faster than the lash of a whip. Excuse me? Were your criticizing my sermons?
No. No, of course not, Charles. I just
You think I dont know how to write a good sermon? That I need advice how to do my job?
Charles She couldnt maintain this razor-sharp level of anxiety. It was just too crazy. Charles, come on. For heavens sake. Lately youre angry at me for anything I say. I was just trying to make a suggestion
The next seconds passed in a blur. She doubted hed heard her. He wasnt listening; he was charging around the table toward her like an angry bull.
She saw him lift his hand. Saw his hand was folded in a fist. Saw the dark, livid color shooting up his neck.
As crazy and ridiculous as the thought was, for that second she actually believed he was going to hit her.
Her heart stopped. Not just her heart, the physical organ, but the core of her emotions suddenly seemed to go still, deep down. She felt as if something died, some feeling, some hope, nothing she could nameyet the sense of loss was as real as her own pulse.
Oh, for Gods sake, Charles said abruptly. He lowered his arm, dropped that fist. Then said nothing else, just stormed out the back door. The screen door slapped behind him.
Bren sat statue-still for a few more minutesuntil the oddest thing happened. She saw a vague silhouette of a reflection in the kitchen window. It had to be a stranger, that cringing woman with the submissive bent head. It couldnt be her. How could it possibly be her?
For that brief second she felt like a stranger in her own life.
But then, of course, she got a grip. Stood. Started dinner, started brainstorming fund-raising events.
Charles was going to be terribly upset and apologetic when he came to his senses, realized how mean hed been to her. She was sure of it.
Three evenings later, it was pouring buckets when Bren turned the key on Maude Roses apartment. The place was on Willow, with a private set of stairs over Ms. Lady Lingerie and Clunkers. Everyone knew there were apartments above the retail shops, but who ever thought about them? Until shed known Maude Rose, shed never considered what those apartments looked like or who lived in them.
A naked lightbulb illuminated the dingy stairsnot enough to make the lock easy to see. Once inside Maudes door, she fumbled around the wall for a switch. Lightning crackled just as she located the overhead. Slowly she slipped off her damp jacket, startled at her first look at the place.
Charles often spent one night a month in Charlestown with elders of the church, a prayer retreat sort of thing with a dozen other pastors. It never crossed Brens mind to check out the apartment until hed been on the road. Then the impulse hit. There was no one to question or argue with her if she chose to come here tonight.
For the first time since she could remember, she had a completely private spot to think. Maybe that was part of what had spurred the impulse to come here. More than that, though, she really wanted to know more about the woman whod given her such a generous legacyespecially because Bren had no idea Maude Rose even knew shed stood up for her now and then.
And now, as she glanced around, the first shock was discovering the pale pink living room walls. Not red, not neon, not splashy or vulgar. But a quiet, clean pastel, recently painted. As far as Bren could tell, the apartment only had a bedroom, a bathroom and then this one big L-shaped room.
The fat part of the L had windows overlooking the street below. The skinny part of the L was the kitchen and eating area. Or it had been.
Bren heard the clomp of footsteps on the noisy stairs and spun around. Hard to tell who was more surprised, her or Poppy.
Ill be damned. Whod have thought wed have the same idea on the same night? Poppy asked wryly, but her grin was wary. Hey, if you want the place to yourself, go for it. I can come back another time
I think its great youre here. Itll give us a chance to put our heads together and figure out what to do with the place at the same time.
Poppy nodded. I dont even know why I came tonight. The curiosity bug just keeps getting to me. Who Maude Rose really was. How and why she picked us to give that stuff to, when I dont remember her even speaking to me. In fact, I didnt know she realized Id defended her now and then. And I justthose jewels, you know? That whole things still bowling me over.
I know. Me, too. Bren, all her life, had felt easy around people, loved people in all their facets and colors and rainbow choices of personalities. But Poppy was a puzzle.
Shed looked nervous as a newborn colt when shed first stepped in. Shed a dripping rain jacket at the door, dropped it. She was such a character, Bren thought. A full-grown ragamuffin. Gorgeous hair, all red and gold and blond, thick and glossybut she wore it shaggy and rumpled, washed and dried as if it were polyester. The clothes appeared to be rejects from a rag bagthe jeans were too tight in the behind, dirty in the knees, thready at the hems; the flannel shirt was twice too big for her frame.
Poppys face fascinated her the most, though. Her dark eyes were bright with intelligence and sassy humor. She had a long, wide mouth, skin softer than a babys. The nose took up too much space. So did the chin. But there were so many contradictions in that face, so much character. Poppy seemed shamelessly irreverent, hopelessly bluntso much her own woman, the way Bren had always wanted to be herself. Everything about Poppy seemed to capitalize a strong woman, unafraid to fight for whatever mattered to heryet that essential gutsiness was shadowed by something else. Anger, Bren was almost sure.
Somewhere inside that brash, artsy package was a lot of anger at something. The way she walked, the way she moved, Poppy always seemed braced for someone to cut her or hurt herand ready to lash out when and if anyone tried.