Home for Christmas, page 8
“Oh…well…that’s good.”
She wiped her eyes and stepped to him. “And why would it be good?”
“Well…I…you…” He shoved his toboggan on his head. “We should get the fire wood.”
“Mmmhmmm…I see…Nice save, Dr. Langston.”
21
Darcy blew a cooling breath across her tea cup.
Bennett was back. The real judgmental, self-righteous, know-it-all Dr. Bennett Langston had only taken twenty-four hours to return.
Leaning her head against the back of the couch, she closed her eyes.
The couch cushion shifted under her. Swiveling her head to her left, she let her gaze open to Finn’s waiting focus. He ran a single finger around the rim of his cup, never breaking his gaze from hers.
Her breath shortened.
Finn’s stare was nearly black in the dim fire light.
“What?”
“So…you and your brother?” He lifted his tea cup and drank deeply.
Scrubbing her face, she shook her head. “Not now. I can’t.”
Part of Darcy wanted to spill all the anger, pain, and frustration encompassing her relationship with Bennett over the past several years onto Finn, but the story was too raw. Her conversation with God was too fresh. She longed to keep the mountaintop joy under her feet for a few more minutes. She needed to let go of the junk she had accumulated in the space she had reserved for her brother’s love, but she had cemented most of the garbage in place. She would need a spiritual jackhammer to release it and open the space for Bennett’s love to fill once again.
Finn nodded. “To clarify. I’m not allowed to ask about your career, your brother, or your childhood.”
“About covers it.” The chills she’d been fighting since they’d stepped from the church were chased by the heat pouring through her that had nothing to do with the flames burning in the fireplace.
“Guess that leaves us with the Christmas play.”
“Guess it does.”
“Well, all right.” He leaned into the corner of the couch. “What’s your take on sets?”
They debated the benefits of not having sets for the play—keeping the design as simple as the message. The story was starting to come to life in her mind. The idea of telling the Nativity story through the lens of a little girl and her imaginary guardian angel was beginning to feel nearly perfect.
“It is, no joke, cold outside,” Harper said as she walked into the living room. Her arms were laden with several cut logs threatening dozens of splinters, cuts, and disease.
“Let me help you.” Finn stood.
Harper shook her head. “No way. I was outside for ten minutes and can’t feel my fingers. You walked nearly a mile from the church, in barely adequate clothing. Sit back down. Wrap up. Drink some tea. Mrs. Penhearst will kill me if you get sick.” She squatted, quickly stacking the logs, adding one from the opposite, dry pile to fuel the fire.
She dusted her hands as she stood. “Did either of you eat dinner?”
“Do snickerdoodles count?” Finn asked.
“No, though delicious, snickerdoodles are not one of the major food groups. I think there are some containers of soup in the freezer from the LAS soup swap last month. If not, I’ll whip up something heartier than cinnamon sugar.” She pivoted and skipped from the room as quickly as she had entered.
“Does she always have that much energy?” Darcy asked.
Finn shrugged. “I don’t know her very well. Her brother is marrying my cousin. But beyond where she will be the first Saturday in January, I’m out.”
“She seems pretty nice.”
“I think your brother thinks so.”
Well, wouldn’t that be interesting?
22
Finn struggled not to stare at Darcy. She and Harper chatted as they washed the soup bowls and pans after their makeshift dinner. She had left her hair down, cascading soft curls over her shoulders and back. The small flame that had sparked on the roof with their first meeting yesterday was quickly becoming an overwhelming bonfire in him. But the idea of starting any kind of relationship with the beautiful, Don’t-Call-Me-Dr. Langston, was beyond complicated.
She was in the middle of a crisis of career—a process he was still in the midst of working through himself. He could commiserate, but from what he heard and saw this evening, she needed more than a buddy. Darcy needed a guiding light. Even if he could give her what she needed, her time in Gibson’s Run would be limited to Lulu’s healing process, and knowing his friend, she would break records. The idea of pursuing anything with the beautiful, quirky doctor was out of his reach.
Breaking his focus, he shifted his gaze back to the table and ran into the narrowed vision of his new obsession’s brother.
Bennett raised a single eyebrow as he lifted his water glass for a drink.
A trickle of sweat dripped down Finn’s spine. Shifting to sit a little taller in his chair, he rolled his glass between his palms. Darcy’s twin brother may be the Saint of Nashville his aunt claimed him to be, but at the moment Finn felt as if his temples were graying with each second of the protective stare.
Finn cleared his throat. “Umm. Your clinic sounds fascinating. What made you decide to take that route?”
“It’s not that interesting. Why don’t you tell me how you became a pastor? Seems like an odd choice for someone with a law degree.”
“Well, it’s a long story…”
“Snows still falling. We’ve got all night.”
Harper filled each of their glasses. “What are you gentlemen discussing?”
“Pastor Finn was just about to tell me about how he was called to the ministry.”
“Really?” Darcy slid onto the U-shaped bench beside Finn. “I’d love to hear.”
“It’s not that interesting.”
“Not what I hear,” Harper said, setting a plate of cookies in the center of the table. She scooted onto the opposite bench leaving Bennett at the head of the table in the only chair. “Tessa said your family was in quite the state of shock when you decided to chuck your six-figure job for the humble man of the cloth gig.”
His cousin Tessa just loved to tell stories.
“Your family wasn’t happy?” Darcy turned her entire focus toward Finn. Her dark gaze drew him in—and made him forget every logical reason he had to stay detached. “I would think having a son who is a pastor would fill every parent with the ‘my child’s a saint’ pride.”
“Not my parents. My dad’s a lawyer. He thought I’d follow in his footsteps. Take over the family practice he had taken over from his dad. And I tried. I went through undergrad and law school with every intention of stepping into his shoes, but when I graduated, I was offered a lucrative position with a sports agency and I accepted without consulting my dad. Strike number one. I wasn’t passionate about the law, but I’d always been in love with sports. Played all through college. I figured I could put my degree to good use being connected to something I cared about.”
“Wait…” Bennett’s eyebrows drew down and creased his forehead. “Are you the Finn Tarrington? MSU Finn Tarrington?”
He nodded. Only ten years later, but he didn’t feel as though he had ever been that Finn Tarrington.
“You were an amazing point guard. The darling of the dance. You busted my bracket, but you were fun to watch. I was shocked when you didn’t declare for the draft.”
Finn stretched his collar with his forefinger. “The NCAA tournament can be deceiving. Being a fourth year in a field of mostly eighteen-year-olds fresh out of high school can make a smart slug look like a hoopster. As much as I was loathe to admit it at the time, I never had half the talent of the rest of the guys. I was able to manage a game better than most, which made me useful to the team.”
“But that seems as if it would be important in the pros, too.” Harper’s tone invited him to add more details.
He shrugged. “After we lost in the Final Four, my dad sat me down and showed me a reel of my highlights, and then proceeded to show me the four other point guards who would likely declare for the draft the next week. He didn’t have to say a word. I knew I wasn’t good enough. I started law school in August.”
With one long drink, he finished the water in his glass. “During my second year of law school, one of my study partners invited me to vespers. She knew I was struggling with…” He lifted his gaze to Darcy’s. Her gaze was focused on him. Kindness, question, and a twinge of what he thought was sadness seeped from her wide-set eyes.
“I was ready to quit school. Nothing fit right. And my friend thought a night of quiet reflection would help. I was willing to try anything. I sat in the last pew of the campus chapel and listened to Father Rylee share the story of the rich man who left Jesus because he couldn’t leave the things of this world. The message latched onto me and for the first time in my life I felt a stirring in my spirit. John Wesley described it as a strange warming of the heart. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew I couldn’t leave school. I needed to stay if for no other reason than to keep going to vespers.”
Darcy’s forehead wrinkled into a dozen lines. “Wait…you stayed in law school to go to church?”
“I never said my journey was rational.” Unable to stop, he shared the disappointment his father felt when Finn chose to pursue sports management over the family firm, and then ultimately his disgust when he chose to turn his back on the family profession to follow his uncle into the ministry.
Finn didn’t often dwell on the frustration he caused his parents. He chose to focus on the ‘rightness’ of his life today. But whenever he shared the story, he wasn’t able to hide from the struggle his parents must have faced with the choices of their only child. Not only did he lose his relationship with his dad, but his Uncle Tom also lost his relationship with his only brother. Finn had made the right choice—being a pastor was who he had been created to be. He only wished his parents understood. Being right often left an emotional earthquake behind the righteous.
“Man, that’s quite a story,” Bennett said. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
Harper squeezed his hand. “I know Pastor Tom couldn’t be prouder of you if you were his own son.”
“It’s kind of wonderful you ended up at his church,” Darcy said.
Finn nodded. “Well, I have to admit I’m guilty of accepting a little nepotism. When I was finishing seminary, I was offered a couple different posts, but I mentioned to Uncle Tom I’d love to be close to him to continue to have him mentor me. He convinced the church board to hire me. I’m hoping they don’t regret the choice.”
“The LAS members clearly approve or you wouldn’t be sipping cocoa with Mrs. Penhearst’s niece and nephew. If the Ladies Aide Society approves you’ve got it made,” Harper said with a wink.
23
“Well, now that we’ve shared supper and secrets, does anyone have a thought as to where Mrs. Penhearst might have hidden the mint chocolate brownie recipe?” Harper asked.
“You don’t need a recipe,” Darcy said, with a small tilt of her lips.
“Aunt Lulu gave me specific instructions that included finding the recipes,” Ben said. “We found her tin, but the recipe isn’t in the box.”
Darcy had been baking with Aunt Lulu since she was in Bible School. She’d been sworn to the secret of the chocolate mint brownies when she was only eight years old. She was a little surprised, and truthfully, hurt, when she heard Lulu had asked Ben to bake her famous treats. They’d never once used a recipe card. Odd Aunt Lulu instructed Ben to look for one. “Where is the box?”
Ben handed the ancient tin box to her.
Flipping the tarnished container on its lid, she ran her fingers along the four corners of the base. Feeling the notch, she tugged lightly and the false bottom opened.
“What?” Ben nearly shouted.
“Lulu has a false bottom recipe box…seriously?” Finn asked.
“Well, Aunt Lulu always told me to keep your most precious treasures safe. This recipe has been passed down from my great-grandmother to Aunt Lulu, and then to me. Lulu tweaked it a bit, but she doesn’t want just anyone knowing her secrets. I pinky swore.”
“It would’ve been helpful if she had described where in the box I was supposed to find the recipe.”
“You seriously think Mrs. Penhearst forgot to tell you?” Harper asked.
A chuckle bubbled through Darcy’s chest. Aunt Lulu wasn’t leaving anything to chance. The sneaky old gal had ensured she and Ben had to work together—no matter what. If Darcy didn’t understand the scientific nature of weather, she’d have sworn her aunt cajoled God into creating the storm to force this moment.
Darcy pulled the recipe card from the false bottom. With the card loose, three additional papers floated to the table.
“What’re those?” Ben asked.
She and Ben reached for the yellowed papers at the same moment. Yanking her hand from the table, she clutched the box and brownie recipe card to her chest. “Go ahead.”
“You can look first,” Ben said.
The feel of Harper’s and Finn’s gazes prickled at the edges of her vision. She could only wonder at what these two relative strangers thought of her and Ben and their near toddler-esque tantrums. Adult Darcy needed to regain control. “No, it’s all right.”
Ben lifted the papers. One was folded into a tight square. The other two resembled old photographs.
He tenderly unfolded the paper, revealing not one page but two. “They are letters from Mom.”
Darcy felt the room tilt. “What do they say?”
With his lip drawn tightly between his teeth, Ben’s gaze darted across the page. “The first one is from when she was pregnant with us.”
Harper patted Ben’s arm. “Why don’t Finn and I go check on the fire?”
Darcy scooted closer to her brother. “Do you want me to read it?”
“No.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with the speed of a pace car on race day. “It’s seeing her handwriting. It looks a little different. Not much. Younger, somehow. She wrote how excited she was because she just found out we were twins. And for Lulu and Frank not to worry. She and Dan would be married before he left for the gulf.”
“I knew our dad was military. That he died in the Gulf War. But I don’t think I knew they weren’t married before…well before…”
“Us?”
Darcy nodded. “It’s not a big deal, right?”
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. I never thought about it much…having a dad. About who they were before we were here. Not having a dad was all I knew. All we knew.”
“What else did she write?”
“Nothing much.”
“What about the second letter? Just read it, OK?”
Ben reached for the second letter. “My Sweet Lulu. I shouldn’t write this in a letter, but calling you makes everything too real. I heard from the doctor a couple days ago. I have it. The big C. Please forgive me for not telling you in person. I figured if I wrote you a letter, you could process before I come for a visit next week.
“I’m afraid to tell the kids. I know they’ll disagree on what I should do and how I should do it. But I’ve prayed about it since Dr. Langley gave me the news and I think I should just live my life. Not worry about treatments or hospitals. Just live.
“My two little doctors won’t agree. They’ll have wildly different treatments they’ll want me to try and if I tell them now, they’ll likely convince me. Convince me that there is a solution. A cure. A hope for this world. But I think…No, I know this world isn’t what I want. Not anymore. So, I’ll wait. I think I’ll tell them together. Bennett will be home for a couple days in May and we should be able to break Darcy away from the lab.
“It’s broken my heart watching them separate these last few years. Their choices in career paths are so alike and yet worlds apart. Darcy’s need to sterilize the world is so vastly different from Ben’s longing to heal in the midst of chaos. I fear this diagnosis will sever the ties that never should have been broken. Ties that were formed long before I could have ever truly been in the mix.
“They need each other to breathe. Truly, a need beyond anything I’ve ever had. I think maybe I’ve chased something like it my whole life. But they don’t understand their precious bond. I hope, pray, they will find each other again.
“I will see you soon. All my love, Penny.”
Darcy drew in a long breath, pressing the exhale slowly through her lips. Her vision clouded leaving Ben in a muddy haze. Mom knew they were breaking apart long before she or Ben did. The ache they, she, caused her mother tore at her spirit.
“Darc?”
Swiping her eyes, she nodded. “Yep.”
“The letter…” Ben lifted his watery gaze to hers. “It’s dated two years before she told us.”
Darcy sat ramrod straight. Snatching the paper from his hands, she scanned the contents, bottom to top. And there, in their mother’s elegant hand, was the date. Seven years ago, this Christmas. “I don’t understand.”
“She knew she had cancer for over two years before she told us.”
“But why?”
Ben pressed away from the table and began pacing the wide kitchen. “It doesn’t make sense. If she would’ve told us when she told Aunt Lulu, I could’ve saved her.”
“Seriously, Bennett?” Darcy stood and thumped her fist into her brother’s chest.
“Whoa! What was that for?”
“Even now. All these years later you still think you’re God?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Big macho Dr. Langston. ‘I could’ve saved her.’ Can’t you hear yourself? Can’t you read her words? She didn’t want to live anymore. She wanted to die. Every treatment we put her through was for us. Not for her.”
Ben slumped onto the bench. “But…”
“But nothing, Ben.” Darcy sat opposite him. “Mom wanted to live her life on her own terms. This letter makes the most sense of anything that has happened in my adult life. The one constant in her life was her unrivaled need to do everything with her own flare. Her own sense of drama. Her wanting to do death on her terms was totally her.”
