A Family For Andi

And then, quite conversationally, he prayed for Andi—thanking God that “Annie” had gotten here safely in spite of car trouble, and asking that her car could be fixed without too much difficulty.

She sneaked a look at him when he asked that her leg would soon get completely well. She’d said nothing to him about the accident nor her leg, and doubted that Gram had.

It was while eating her second piece of French toast covcred with syrup that Keith asked if she was joining them for church—and she realized she might like to. “Will your family be there?” That would be an additional incentive, she thought.

“Mom and Dad rarely miss. And my sister’s always there with her two kids.”

“How would I dress if I go with you?”

Gram’s open face showed pleasure. “You look fine as you are, Annie, with that lacy blouse, slacks and sandals.”

“Are pants okay?”

“Of course—though you have time to change into a skirt if you’d feel more comfortable.”

She hadn’t meant to glance toward Keith, but saw his nod. “I’m with Gram. You do look good, just as you are.”

Heat crept up into her face, and totally unnecessary words spilled out. “I’ve been wearing pants most of the time since the accident—because of the scars.…”

His glance flicked downward, then back to meet hers. “Are they really that bad?” he questioned softly.

“To me, they are.”

His even, white teeth gnawed his lower lip. “Are you…a competent judge of that?”

That ankle and foot tucked behind the left one and were pulled as far back as they’d go under her chair. Her chin tilted upward. “I am the judge of that.”

His gaze held hers for an uncomfortable moment before he looked toward Gram and asked her to pass the syrup.

Now I’ve blown it! she chastised herself. I shouldn’t be so supersensitive. But they’d asked her to go with them, and she would.

It had been years since she’d been in church except for weddings and funerals. She used to go with Mother when they still lived in Claremont, back before Dad quit working for someone else so he could try developing his ideas and patents into practical inventions.

That was when Mother went back to teaching, so there’d be a steady income. Things were tough financially, and though she’d tried, Andi hardly remembered Dad from those days when he routinely spent twelve to eighteen hours a day at work.

But she’d never forget Mother—always cheerful and supportive, always there for Brownies, then Scouts, and for swimming and flute lessons. Never missing a band or choir concert. Taking her to the library and the museum.

By the time Dad had his twentieth patent; by the time the plant was built in Chicago and things were going really well there, Mother’s health had begun to fail.

In spite of the cancer, she’d been able—at what cost to herself?—to furnish and decorate the new house and to serve as hostess for countless business dinners. When she went with Dad on trips to resort cities and other wonderful jaunts tied in with business, Andi was left at home. Mother would come back more exhausted than when she left, and gradually cut back on traveling. And on entertaining.

It had been fun having Mother around more, but Andi had not known the reason until six months before her death.

Why didn’t you tell me, Mother? Andi silently wondered. Why didn’t you let me know what you were going through? Oh, yes, I was busy with school and doing things with friends, but those weren’t important. I’d much rather have spent that time with you.…

They passed two churches—one stone, the other brick—as they walked to the vinyl-sided church on Maple and Second streets. Smaller than the others, it resembled those on Christmas cards: white, with a corner bell tower, and large old pin oak and maple trees along the front and side.

They entered the sanctuary through the red front door, Keith carrying a tall pottery vase filled with Gram’s multicolored iris. Striding up the center aisle, between the rows of pews, he set the arrangement on a marble-topped table in front of the centrally placed pulpit.

He shook his head when Andi asked if the screening around the organ and choir, and the ornately carved pulpit and high-backed cushioned chairs on the platform, were made of chestnut. “I’m fairly sure they’re walnut.”

The sun shining through the stained-glass windows on her right gave an iridescent glow to everything, and she found herself whispering, “This is lovely.”

“We like it” The wrinkles radiating outward from the corners of Gram’s eyes deepened, and her voice showed pleasure. “Maybe partly because the Mc-Henrys and the Barkers—my side of the family—have come here for generations. It’s home.”

How odd, thinking of church as “home,” Andi thought.

“You have a choice,” Gram said. “I’d like to take you with me, of course, but Keith’s in the Builders’ Class—mostly young adults. You’d probably like that best”

“That sounds like a good idea.” But perhaps Keith wouldn’t like that. Turning, she asked, “Is that all right?” Perhaps she was putting him in a bad situation, what with his date last night.

If he had reservations, he didn’t express them. As they entered the hallway, he introduced her first to Patsy Harriman, the pastor’s wife, then to others as they went down broad steps to the area beneath the sanctuary. Nine men and women were seated in a large circle, while others stood around a table holding a large metal urn and tray of cookies.

“Tea or coffee, Annie?” he asked, and she chose the former. She wasn’t thirsty, but holding one of those foam cups would give her hands something to do. However, introduced as Gram’s friend, she found that she need not have worried about being accepted.

Karlyn Tinsman, Keith’s sister, was one of the last to arrive. It turned out that she was the teacher—a tall, outgoing, hazel-eyed woman in her mid-thirties, wearing her dark brown hair in a French twist.

She accepted being teased about her lateness—saying she’d lost track of time while preparing for a picnic—and proved to have a delightful sense of humor and an aptitude for getting input from students.

Even Andi contributed a thing or two—which she’d never have expected. Toward the end of this class on stewardship, Karlyn read something from the Bible about “talents,” which Andi gathered didn’t refer just to one’s abilities or skills, but also to the use of financial resources in a way pleasing to God, as well as to others.

“Congratulations!” Karlyn was beaming as though she really meant it. “You have just won the sweepstakes and are receiving ten million dollars, coming to you in a lump sum. I’d like you to take the next few minutes to make a list of what you’re going to do with your windfall.”

Cheers and laughter greeted this announcement, and the man to Andi’s right—Jeff-something—waved the blank sheet she’d just handed him. “Way to go, Karlyn, giving us paper from an extra-long legal pad!”

When someone complained about Uncle Sam getting his big cut first, Karlyn shrugged. “I’m feeling generous today. We’ll make that ten million after taxes.”

There were good-natured comments and joking, and Andi noted that most participants began doing what was requested. Several, however, seemed to have difficulty thinking of more than a couple of things, and one completely ignored the assignment.

If she really believed that God did this sort of thing, she’d wonder if He meant for her to be here this morning.

Keith, whose paper was being filled with remarkably neat writing, nudged her arm. “Come on, Annie, join in. Today you’re one of us.”

“I’m—not sure what to put down.…”

“You must have had times when you thought, ‘If I had enough money, I’d like to…whatever.’ Well, here’s your opportunity to spend a lot—quite painlessly.”

She tried to suppress the smile she felt coming. If you only knew, Cousin Keith—if you only knew!

Well, she and Dad had decided on large endowments to universities, so she wrote: “Schools and Education.” And “Red Cross” and “Salvation Army,” because Dad had seen, long ago while he was a marine, how well they’d helped those in need.

“Grants for Cancer Research,” because of Mother.

She’d just written, “Family and Friends,” when Karlyn said, “Now put 1, 2, and 3 by those you’d do first.”

Keith was giving frowning attention to “Contributions,” while Jeff was griping, “How does a guy prioritize taking his family on a round-the-world cruise or hiring the best golf pro in the world to improve his swing?”

A short, heavy man across the circle hooted, then assured Jeff that the latter would be a waste. “There’s no way you’ll ever get that swing of yours under control!”

Jeff stage-whispered, “Don’t judge our whole church, Annie, on the nastiness of one man.”

“I won’t.” She laughed. “I promise.”

Keith had crossed out several numbers and was still putting others before entries, when Karlyn announced, “Time’s up! Now, please share your first three with us.”

There was laughter and some groans, but no one volunteered. “Okay, how ‘bout the first one?”

Andi was surprised that it was Jeff who led off with a serious response. “I suspect most of us would do what I’d want to—pay off all debts. In my case, that includes mortgage, car and loans for college expenses.”

Some nodded, and he continued, as thoughtfully as before, “My second would be setting up trusts for the kids’ education—and I’d investigate the possibility of locking in at least one fully paid tuition at Penn State.”

“Very good! Anything else you’d like to share with us, Jeff?” When he shook his head, Karlyn asked, “And now, who’s our next brave soul?”

A young red-haired woman said that since they lived in a too-small rented house, she’d first of all buy a place big enough for all of them, preferably with land. And since she and her husband had been wishing the kids could attend Dalton Christian Academy, she’d use some for that. Three children were presently in public school, and the youngest would begin kindergarten in the fall.

“What about you, Keith?” his sister enquired. “You’ve been busily writing.”

“I still am. I’m not finished yet.”

Jeff reached across Andi to grab Keith’s almostfilled sheet, and held it up for all to see. “I can’t even write that fast, much less think about what I should put down!”

Keith patiently held out his hand for it. “My number-one priority has to be giving a tithe to the Lord— but I had trouble knowing in what form that should be. Some of my other expenditures could come from that million.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, things for the betterment of society or, under certain conditions, of individuals. What about a new pumper for the fire company, or gifts to a specific department of the hospital, or to the Pregnancy Center Project? Or perhaps to Habitat for Humanity? Should they be part of this tenth, or would they be in separate categories—perhaps numbers four, five, and seven?”

Several entered that discussion, and Andi paid avid attention. Keith, having brought up the topic, continued to be involved with it, and helped Karlyn encourage those hesitant about expressing opinions.

Two others stated they’d written “Tithe” as their first item, and Andi gathered that was the same as “one-tenth.” She knew that the many donations and endowments made by her father or in the name of the company would add up to more than that—and each was carefully noted for tax purposes.

She fleetingly wondered what her university or country club friends or co-workers would think of this conversation. What might they say if they were here?

Was it possible any would agree with this consensus? She doubted that, but it wasn’t the sort of thing they discussed. She couldn’t even say how Jon thought of money—his money. He had to have thought about it, didn’t he? Or had he just spent, wanting to be liked, needing…what?

She’d had wonderful times with him, and they’d talked of getting married—but she now faced the fact that during these last years she knew little of what went on inside. She’d tried to bring up deeper issues, but he’d quickly turn her away from them, sticking to fun things.

Had he been hiding from her? From himself?

She pulled herself back to the present. She shouldn’t be dwelling on this now, especially here.

Karlyn was tying things up. “…What’s important to you—important enough to top your list of ways to spend money? And what do you consider really worthy of your time? There are necessary things like sleeping, eating, doing essential shopping, and spending 40 hours at work for many of us, and/or with baby and child care for some.

“But we still have—though I know it often doesn’t seem like it—hours or minutes when we’re not required to do specific things. What about those? What are you doing with your free time?

“And how well are you controlling your thoughts? It’s true that anything can enter your mind, but what priorities have you set as to which ones remain, permitting them to take over? Just happy ones? Unhappy ones? Family-related? Service-oriented? Totally self-serving?”

She’d been at the chalkboard for the last few minutes, but now returned to her chair, part of the circle again. “We often don’t even try to control what we’re thinking. And thank God—literally!—that nobody knows what those thoughts are. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

Andi’s glance circled the group as she wondered how many had secrets that they, like she, wouldn’t want anyone else to know. Probably everyone.

“We often forget that God knows every one of our thoughts. These precede our moods, words and dealings with others—including what we do with what we have!”

Her eyes met those of each person. “It’s easier to consider how to spend money when you still have nine million or more left—but you do, right now, have money. So…what will you do with your paycheck or other sources of income?

“And you do have your life. What will you do with that? Settle for self-gratification or momentary pleasures? Or do you want it to count for something more…? Those are your decisions.”

Andi just sat there, not paying attention to the closing prayer, not really hearing it. What do I want from my life? she thought. From our money?

She had many questions; she did not know if they’d ever be answered.

Chapter Four

Gram was waiting at the top of the steps, then led the way into the sanctuary, which looked different with perhaps a hundred brightly clad people in the pews. Andi felt conspicuous coming into the front of the large, sunlit room, but followed as Gram started back the outside aisle.

Smiling and nodding to friends, Gram led the way into the empty fifth pew, to sit along the center aisle. Andi had stepped back to allow Keith to precede her if he chose, but his hand on her elbow indicated that she should go first.

She wondered again about last night’s date. Might his having a not-too-unattractive, auburn-haired woman sitting by him in Sunday School and church cause resentment?

Gram got her attention. “That blonde—the third one coming into the front row of the choir—she’s Zack’s wife. Keith’s mother. A soprano…”

Andi smiled and nodded, but with the organ playing and choir sitting down, each member with head bowed, it seemed inappropriate to respond verbally.

“You’ll meet her at Karlyn’s—she did mention she’d like you to come to the picnic, didn’t she?”

Andi whispered, “Karlyn invited me after class.”

There was the call to worship. The singing of a hymn, which sounded familiar. Scripture reading and prayer. An outstanding, joyful choir anthem. Taking up an offering—and she had no idea how much to put in. Checks sent to charities were large, but here…?

Those beside her were holding envelopes something like Mother had used, so that gave no clue. She withdrew a ten-dollar bill from her wallet, folded it in half, then over again, and placed it, number side down, in the deep, highly polished wooden collection plate. As she passed it on, she noted bills of various denominations among the envelopes, so assumed she’d done all right.

The pastor, probably under forty, seemed comfortable conducting the service, and his sermon was well organized and interesting—though Andi’s attention was often on those around her.

Was Keith’s father here? She wished there had been pictures to go with the detective’s information.

And that reminded her to take her camera along. Candid shots shouldn’t raise suspicion, and she’d like to show them to Dad. And she’d probably want to look at them, also, after returning.

Andi had shared Gram’s hymnal for the two songs before the sermon, but Keith held his toward her for the last one. As she reached to hold it, her forefinger touched his. Did he notice that? Or hers quickly drawing away?

He was an excellent baritone, and she found herself smiling up at him as she shifted from melody to alto. As the organist put in extra notes between the last two verses, he whispered, “You have a lovely voice, Miss Marker.”

And she whispered back, “So do you, Mr. McHenry,” then wondered if people noticed their grinning at one another.

Gram knew everyone, and seemed to feel Andi should meet them, but it was Keith who introduced her to his parents, both of whom appeared friendly and outgoing.

“We’ll see you at Karlyn’s,” Shelby said. “I must get home and pick up the salad and cake—and get. into casual clothes.” She turned back to add, “Be sure to bring your swimsuit, Annie. It’s been warm enough that the water in the pool’s quite comfortable.”

“I—didn’t expect to swim, so didn’t bring one.”

“Don’t worry. I have extras.” And she was gone.

Andi looked after her, wishing she’d said not to bother. Oh, well, that didn’t matter—until she noticed Keith looking at her strangely, and wondered if he might be remembering her statement about usually wearing pants.

Back in her room, she hung her lightweight linen pants in the closet and took out a brightly colored sundress. It was long and full enough that the scars would remain hidden even when she was seated.

Keith had said he’d see Gram and her shortly, and she wondered if he might be going to pick up his date. I hope he does, she told herself. That would get her over this wondering, this silliness, this.…

No acceptable word came to mind as she leaned closer to the mirror to apply lipstick. But when she looked into the blue eyes in the mirror, she noted that the slight smile on her lips had failed to reach them.

Replacing the tube’s cap, she stifled a sigh. Rule number one, Miss Annie Marker, or whoever you are: Thou shalt not fall in love. Which was fine to say— but why did she even consider that warning?

Why should that word, love, have even entered her mind?

She was in the kitchen when Keith entered by way of the back door. “All ready?”

“I think so,” Gram said, “but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Why is that?”

“Karlyn made me promise not to bring more than one dish, so that’s the macaroni salad there.”

“You’re a literalist if I ever saw one. You cover the top with a whole bottle of stuffed green olives and a can of big, ripe ones, so you’re still bringing several foods, though they’re now in one dish!”

“Well—” tossing her head “—the kids like olives!”

“Yes, we do!” He popped the black one from the very center into his mouth. “So let’s go, ladies. My car’s blocking the alley.”

Andi opened the back door on the driver’s side as he assisted Gram into the front one. “Let me fasten the seat belt,” he said and drew it across. “You care for the salad.”

“And the olives,” Gram murmured.

“And the olives.”

They tried to include Andi in their conversation, but she didn’t identify the man about whom they were speaking—someone scheduled for a brain scan. They’d driven through town and out past the high school when Gram pointed. “That big stone house on the right is Karlyn’s. It was at the edge of town when they built it—before Joe Mueller died and his kids sold the farm to a developer!”

Andi wondered at the disapproval in her tone, but Keith reminded, “That was their right, Gram.”

“But Jake always had a fit about this sort of thing!”

“Not enough to make him put that stipulation in his will, however…”

Andi was brought back again to the major reason that she was here. In addition to getting to know her relatives, she must make sure that decisions concerning Dad’s will, and her own, cover as many bases as possible.

“Those cars nearer the garage won’t be able to get out, dear,” Gram murmured as Keith backed into the driveway.

He turned off the ignition. “But the road’s narrow through here, and I prefer not parking along its side. I’ll move mine if anyone wants to leave early.”

They were instantly surrounded by four excited children, introduced to her as Evelyn’s Brock and Melody, and Karlyn’s Jake and—Traci?

Uh-oh, that investigator had made at least a couple of slipups. Jake was undoubtedly a nickname for the “John” he’d reported, but he must have heard the name of the beautiful, dark-haired five-year-old and assumed her to be a boy, Tracy! She’d watch more carefully for other errors.

Karlyn had come to the corner of the house to invite them to the backyard, and Keith was escorted, tugged, by Brock and Jake. Gram, handing Andi the salad, was “helped” by Melody and Traci.

Keith’s parents were already there, Shelby giving Andi a special smile. “We’re so glad you joined us! Mom’s probably told you we have quite a few family get-togethers, and there’s always room for friends.”

Zack—tall, burly and middle-aged—strode over to take Andi’s hand. “I understand we let you down yesterday.”

“Nothing to feel sorry about, Mr. McHenry,” she reassured. “I’m enjoying my stay in Sylvan Falls.”

“Great!” His other hand clasped her shoulder. “It’s a wonderful place to live, and it’s good to hear that you appreciate it. If you’d like to stay indefinitely, we can keep putting off work on your car.” He waggled his eyebrows the way Dad sometimes did.

This can’t be genetic, can it? she wondered. But such a simple thing put her at ease. “Did your mother tell you I may stick around for a while?”

He grinned. “You’ll find that in our family, good news gets passed around real quick.”

She was glad that he stressed the word, implying they didn’t gossip in negative ways. “She told me about the carnival at the end of the week.”

His shoulders slumped and hands dropped to his sides. His words—“Don’t remind me of that!”—could have indicated despair, had his eyes not been bright with excitement.

“What’s your part in all this?”

“Well, for starters, we have floats to finish.”

“Floats? Plural?”

“Yep. Anyone can enter—churches, organizations, businesses. I happen to be active in First Church and in Rotary, and have a business.”

“You don’t need to help with all of them, do you?”

His wife responded to that. “For your own wellbeing, Annie, don’t even suggest he not work on all of them!”

Shelby was obviously teasing, so Andi felt safe asking, “Isn’t there something like conflict of interest involved here? I presume there’s some prize involved.”

Zack admitted, “They gave me a hard time about that when the garage won once, six years ago. But the church has received first prize—all of twenty-five dollars, incidentally!—six or eight times, and Rotary at least that often.”

“Congratulations!” Her head tipped forward in a nod of approbation. “So what’s the theme for yours this year?”

“Ah-ha! That’s what they all ask.” Again the active eyebrows. “But you have to wait like everyone else.”