“Seeing your father was a shock, though. I’m so sorry, Sam, that he’s so ill. This can’t be easy to watch.”
“It isn’t easy. I just wish my father and I could have been close. I wish for a lot of things now,” Sam said in a murmur as if he were speaking to the air.
Was there meaning in Sam’s words beyond the regrets he had with his father? Even if Sam had meant something more in his words to her—something revealing about his feelings—why would it matter now? As sure as the sun rising in the east, Sam was going to marry Audrey Anderson, and with the full approval of his father. Charlotte shook off the desperate desire to read more into his words. It would do no good, except to prolong the pain.
Audrey rested her head against Sam’s shoulder. “This has been a very hard day on all of us. I wish—”
“Sam,” Lucy hollered down the hallway at them. “Your father. I’m so sorry.” Her chin quivered, and then she broke out into sobs.
Chapter 6
6
Father?” Sam hurried to Lucy’s side and looked through the open door into Mr. Wilder’s bedroom.
Lucy touched Sam’s arm. “He was gone before I could get to you. I knew you’d want to be with him in his last moments. I’m so sorry you missed saying good-bye.”
“It’s all right. I’d said my good-byes earlier.” Sam placed his arm around Lucy, and her weeping eased. “You’ve been very good to my father, very attentive. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome,” Lucy said. “I wish I could have done more.”
Audrey wrapped her arms around both Sam and Lucy.
Charlotte moved back into the shadows of the hallway, wishing she was anywhere on earth but in that one spot. She hadn’t helped Mr. Wilder make his peace with the Lord, nor had she done anything to lighten Sam’s burden. In the end, Mr. Wilder’s news helped no one. It would do nothing but fester in her mind, like a wound that could never heal. If only Mr. Wilder had not asked her to come. If only. Once again, she would be living a life of “if onlys.”
Charlotte knew she shouldn’t feel sorry for herself. A man had just lost his battle with his own heart and had come to a tragic end.
In spite of her warning to keep her emotions under control, a renegade tear fell down her cheek and dripped onto her palm. She closed her hand on the tear. No more, Charlotte.
As the little huddle among Sam and Audrey and Lucy came to an end, Sam said, “Lucy, would you mind calling the Middlebury Funeral Home? I would really appreciate it.”
“Yes, of course.”
Sam handed Lucy his handkerchief.
“I’ll do it right now.” Lucy cleaned up her face and pulled a cell phone from her pocket.
Sam turned to Charlotte. “Do you mind if Audrey drives you back to the tearoom? I’m going to stay in my father’s room until they come.”
“That would be fine. Thank you. I’m so sorry about your father, Sam.” Charlotte wanted to say more, but the words would not come.
Sam gave her a weary but warm smile. “Thank you.” He disappeared into Mr. Wilder’s bedroom, and Audrey gestured to Charlotte that they could go.
Just as they’d made it to the end of the hallway, Lucy caught up with them. She pulled Charlotte to the side. “I want you to have this.” She placed her gold nursing pin into Charlotte’s palm. “No more. It ends today.”
“Are you sure?” Charlotte placed her hand over Lucy’s.
“I am.”
“Okay, but I’ll keep it safe just in case you ever have a change of heart.”
Lucy grinned, and it lit up her eyes through the tears. “You’re welcome to keep it in a safe place, but I feel lighter already. My smile feels so good . . . fits on me better than I remembered. See you later.”
“Bye.”
After Lucy had gone back toward Mr. Wilder’s room, and she was out of earshot, Audrey asked Charlotte, “What was that all about, between you and the nurse? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t think Lucy would want me to mention it, otherwise I’d—”
“No problem. I get it.” Audrey continued to walk toward the main living area with Charlotte close behind her. “I’m used to living around secrets.”
What could she mean?
Audrey skimmed her fingers along some of the artifacts as they made their way toward the front door. “We’ll have an estate sale soon.”
Charlotte didn’t add anything to Audrey’s declaration. Mr. Wilder’s body had not even been taken to the funeral home, so maybe it seemed a little premature to chat about estate sales.
Audrey swung open both double doors, closed her eyes against the dazzling sunlight, and breathed deeply. They were greeted not only by bright light but the doleful sound of mourning doves. “It’s like their funeral song for us.” She looked back at Charlotte as if to scrutinize her frame of mind, her level of grief. “You know, the more I got to know Mr. Wilder, the more I realized how dissimilar he was from Sam. Never could a parent and child be more different.
“That couldn’t be truer.”
Audrey made no more comment on the subject, but instead led Charlotte out of the house and locked the doors of the Wilder mansion behind them. The clunking of the internal parts and the deep rumble of the door going shut suggested closure and finality of every kind. There would be no more going back. No more woolgathering about Sam as her grandmother might have called it. What was in the past would remain there. But, Audrey was right. The doleful sound of mourning doves felt like a funeral song.
Chapter 7
7
With some hesitancy Sam approached his father’s body. He stood over him, feeling all the usual mysteries of life and death, but he experienced none of the sentiments that came from deep down when someone says good-bye to a person who was beloved. But out of respect for his father, Sam went around the room and one by one he stopped all the clocks. When he approached the grandfather clock, he paused and stared at the inner parts, remembering it was his father’s favorite. He opened the glass door, reached inside the cabinet, and brought the swinging pendulum to a halt. It was a simple act, but strangely painful, as if he’d stopped his own heart.
“I wish we could have talked more,” Sam said, releasing the thought into the air. Why couldn’t they have made a meaningful connection? It seemed the older his father got, the more broken and impossible their relationship became. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why, except that his father had held to some pretty strange notions. But more than anything, he wished his father had come to know the Lord. Mr. Wilder’s choice had always been to embrace any religious idea that suited his needs rather than following the one true God. That was the biggest tragedy in the moment now. Not just for his lifetime but for all eternity.
Sam stared
