remembered those headlights, fast approaching and making an abrupt U-turn just as the deputy had arrived. With everything that happened afterward, she'd forgotten completely about them.
Could they somehow be connected?
She wasn't about to call Deputy Trowbridge and tell him. She'd save it for the sheriff.
C HAPTER 9
T his morning, Uncle Father wasn't in the kitchen making pancakes as usual. And Abby was going to be here soon. Maggie had to be ready.
She went back upstairs to look for him.
She heard him whispering prayers. His bedroom door was open. Uncle Father said it was always all right for her to come in if the door was open. But she stopped. He was praying. Praying was private.
Uncle Father had two crucifixes in his bedroom. One over his bed where everybody had one. And one on the wall beside the closet door.
Below Jesus-by-the-closet was a little table with two candles. One for Maggie's mother and one for her daddy.
That's where Uncle Father was praying. On his knees. His face was bristly. His eyes were closed. He was rocking back and forth with the music of his words. Maggie couldn't understand any of them.
She stood at the doorway waiting for him to notice her. Maybe she should just go away.
Then she heard him make a little sob sound.
She went in and got on her knees beside him. She put her arm across his shoulders and bowed her head.
"Don't be sad, Uncle Father," she whispered. "I'll help you pray."
He made a low sound that wasn't prayer and wasn't words. He leaned forward and put his forehead on the floor.
It scared her but she didn't leave. She even kept her hand on his back.
She said, "God will help you."
He sat up and wiped his cheeks with his hand. He looked at her with a smile and said, "
You
give me strength, Maggie love."
"You better now?" she asked.
"Yes. Thanks to you."
"Good. I'm hungry."
He laughed a little. "I didn't realize it was so late. Let's go make pancakes, then."
They made the pancakes together, but Uncle Father didn't eat any.
The doorbell rang.
"That's Abby!" Maggie jumped up and put her plate in the sink.
"Abby?" Uncle Father said. He sounded funny, not quite surprised, but different. Maybe he was still sad. "Why is she here?"
Maggie sighed. "I
told
you. We have to make a wedding garland today."
"Oh. Yes. I guess I forgot."
She kissed his cheek. "Will you be all right without me?"
"Of course. Now you run along. Don't keep Abby waiting."
"You don't want to go to the door and see her?"
"Not this morning. I haven't even shaved yet."
She was so excited her feet wanted to dance. Today she was going to do everything on her own.
"Okay. Bye." She hurried out of the kitchen.
She was so happy that Abby hadn't had an accident again today.
This was going to be the best wedding garland ever made.
Abby sat across the workbench in the carriage house from Maggie, thinking there was no way she would have all of the arrangements ready for the wedding tomorrow. Her exhaustion made it so she had to think and rethink every move; work that normally came naturally now was an act of conscious will.
Maggie's chatter had ceased. Her tongue was caught between her lips as her blunt fingers worked wires slowly and meticulously around the flowers and magnolia leaves. Abby was happy for the silence. Her fatigue was making her irritable. She didn't want to take it out on poor Maggie.
Abby's cell phone rang. She'd stopped at the Verizon store to get a new one on her way to pick up Maggie this morning. It felt like having the ability to walk restored after a stint in a wheelchair.
She looked at the number on the screen. It was Dr. Samuels, the physician who'd taken care of her as long as she'd been alive. She'd left him a message earlier today. He was only practicing part time now, after having retired and unretired twice already. Naturally, he didn't have office hours on Friday.
She got up, leaving Maggie to continue working.
Once she was out of Maggie's earshot, she answered.
"What
Could they somehow be connected?
She wasn't about to call Deputy Trowbridge and tell him. She'd save it for the sheriff.
C HAPTER 9
T his morning, Uncle Father wasn't in the kitchen making pancakes as usual. And Abby was going to be here soon. Maggie had to be ready.
She went back upstairs to look for him.
She heard him whispering prayers. His bedroom door was open. Uncle Father said it was always all right for her to come in if the door was open. But she stopped. He was praying. Praying was private.
Uncle Father had two crucifixes in his bedroom. One over his bed where everybody had one. And one on the wall beside the closet door.
Below Jesus-by-the-closet was a little table with two candles. One for Maggie's mother and one for her daddy.
That's where Uncle Father was praying. On his knees. His face was bristly. His eyes were closed. He was rocking back and forth with the music of his words. Maggie couldn't understand any of them.
She stood at the doorway waiting for him to notice her. Maybe she should just go away.
Then she heard him make a little sob sound.
She went in and got on her knees beside him. She put her arm across his shoulders and bowed her head.
"Don't be sad, Uncle Father," she whispered. "I'll help you pray."
He made a low sound that wasn't prayer and wasn't words. He leaned forward and put his forehead on the floor.
It scared her but she didn't leave. She even kept her hand on his back.
She said, "God will help you."
He sat up and wiped his cheeks with his hand. He looked at her with a smile and said, "
You
give me strength, Maggie love."
"You better now?" she asked.
"Yes. Thanks to you."
"Good. I'm hungry."
He laughed a little. "I didn't realize it was so late. Let's go make pancakes, then."
They made the pancakes together, but Uncle Father didn't eat any.
The doorbell rang.
"That's Abby!" Maggie jumped up and put her plate in the sink.
"Abby?" Uncle Father said. He sounded funny, not quite surprised, but different. Maybe he was still sad. "Why is she here?"
Maggie sighed. "I
told
you. We have to make a wedding garland today."
"Oh. Yes. I guess I forgot."
She kissed his cheek. "Will you be all right without me?"
"Of course. Now you run along. Don't keep Abby waiting."
"You don't want to go to the door and see her?"
"Not this morning. I haven't even shaved yet."
She was so excited her feet wanted to dance. Today she was going to do everything on her own.
"Okay. Bye." She hurried out of the kitchen.
She was so happy that Abby hadn't had an accident again today.
This was going to be the best wedding garland ever made.
Abby sat across the workbench in the carriage house from Maggie, thinking there was no way she would have all of the arrangements ready for the wedding tomorrow. Her exhaustion made it so she had to think and rethink every move; work that normally came naturally now was an act of conscious will.
Maggie's chatter had ceased. Her tongue was caught between her lips as her blunt fingers worked wires slowly and meticulously around the flowers and magnolia leaves. Abby was happy for the silence. Her fatigue was making her irritable. She didn't want to take it out on poor Maggie.
Abby's cell phone rang. She'd stopped at the Verizon store to get a new one on her way to pick up Maggie this morning. It felt like having the ability to walk restored after a stint in a wheelchair.
She looked at the number on the screen. It was Dr. Samuels, the physician who'd taken care of her as long as she'd been alive. She'd left him a message earlier today. He was only practicing part time now, after having retired and unretired twice already. Naturally, he didn't have office hours on Friday.
She got up, leaving Maggie to continue working.
Once she was out of Maggie's earshot, she answered.
"What
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