A Light in the Window (37 page)

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Authors: Jan Karon

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“Yes, and who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Cynthia Coppersmith—my neighbor. Ah, your neighbor, to be exact.”

“Lovely Southern accent. You’re that father she’s told me about, I presume.”

He felt suddenly daring, expansive. “And what, exactly, did she tell you?”

“Oh, just that you’re wonderful, among other things.” She smiled a very sophisticated sort of smile, he thought. “I do hope that being wonderful hasn’t gone to your head, however.”

“Miss Addison, let that be the least of your concerns!” He had to restrain himself from giving her a hug.

“You’ve come a long way, I should think.”

“Yes, very. Up before dawn!”

“Well,” she said, leaning on her cane, “I dislike exceedingly having to tell you where she is.”

His heart hammered. “Please,” he said.

“She’s gone home to Mitford.”

CHAPTER TEN

Cousins

“Was he expecting you, Father?”

“Not in the least.”

“May I give him your name?”

“Just say it’s one of his Irish cousins. It’s a surprise.”

She smiled. “He hates surprises.”

“I know.”

“But I’ll do it for the clergy.”

“Thank you.”

Walter opened his office door and peered out. “Good God!” he said, freezing in his tracks.

“Ah, and He is good, cousin.”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I can’t believe it myself.”

“In New York? Here? A country bumpkin, a bucolic rube ... ?”

“A hick,” he said, grinning.

They embraced heartily, Walter kissing him on both cheeks, which he’d once learned in France and thought a splendid idea. “There was a lot of backslapping and general punching about, like two boys,” his secretary later told a friend.

“This, Timothy, is New York!” Walter yelled above the clamor of the restaurant. He held up an enormous deli sandwich as evidence and bit into it with conviction.

“Powerful attorneys eat like this? What happened to nouvelle cuisine?”

“Completely out of fashion! Now, tell me everything. Why are you here? How long are you staying? I’ll ring Katherine to take the Christmas ornaments off the guest room bed!”

He didn’t have the heart to tell the truth—that he’d flown all the way to a place he never intended to visit, only to discover that the one he’d come to see had passed him in the air, hurtling in the opposite direction.

“It’s like this ...” He couldn’t think of a lie if his life had depended on it. “I came to see Cynthia.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“And she wasn’t home.”

Walter suspended his garlic pickle in the air. “She let you come all the way to New York—and she wasn’t even home?”

“She didn’t know I was coming,” he said, feeling miserable. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“And you got the surprise.”

Thank heavens, Walter wasn’t laughing like a hyena. In fact, his cousin considered this piece of information very soberly.

“She flew to Mitford this morning.”

“Rotten luck, old fellow. But Katherine will be thrilled to see you. You’re staying the weekend, of course!”

“I’m on my way to the airport, actually.”

Walter looked at him and shook his head. “I’ve known you for fifty-six years, and you never cease to amaze me.”

“What’s so amazing?”

“That you mustered the courage to come here in the first place—we know how disconcerting this sort of thing is for you. And that you came without telling Cynthia! Quite a romantic piece of business for a country parson.”

“Foolish would be the word.”

“Actually, I like my word, and I’m sticking with it. You’ve always been a slow starter, Cousin, but once you get going, stand back.”

“There’s a rye seed between your front teeth.”

“You love her then?”

“What do you think?”

“Just answer my question.”

“Yes. She’s ... good for me.”

“In what way?”

“Oh, gets me out of myself.”

“There’s an accomplishment.”

“Makes me laugh.”

“Go on.”

“I trust her. She’s real.”

“Like Katherine.”

“Well ...”

They both laughed then, with affection for the outspoken, salty-tongued Katherine.

“Not like Katherine, exactly,” said the rector, “but in that league.”

“The big leagues, then.” After nearly thirty years, Walter still thought his wife the most compelling woman he’d ever known. “What are you going to do about all this?”

“I’ve never understood why people think I should do something about it. Isn’t loving her enough?”

“Nope. That’s the way it is with feelings like this. You’ve got to take them somewhere. They can’t be allowed to merely dangle around in space. Ask her to marry you.”

He felt his heart hammer.

“Either you’re blushing or your blood pressure is going out the roof,” Walter said.

“Sometimes I’m afraid to move forward, but I’m terrified to turn back.”

“There comes a time when there is no turning back. You’ll know it when you get there.”

“Thanks for your understanding. Sometimes you can be rather ...”

“A cad,” said Walter, finishing his sentence.

“I love you, pal.”

“And we love you, Timothy, and want the best for you. You know we pray for that.”

“And please don’t stop. I’ve got to get out of here. Which side of the street should I stand on to hail a taxi for the airport?”

“I’ll walk you to the best place. Katherine will never believe you’ve been here. She’ll think I’m hallucinating on the antibiotics I’m taking for a sinus infection.”

“Is there a store of any kind nearby? A shop?”

“What are you looking for?”

“A pink ribbon,” he said, feeling brighter.

When he turned the corner at Wisteria, he saw lights in Dooley’s room but could see no lights in the little house next door. He had stood by for more than four hours, which he’d spent dozing in an airport chair, refusing to think of the precious time being wasted.

He felt utterly exhausted. “Lord,” he said aloud, which was both an appeal and a thanksgiving.

It started to rain as he pulled the car into the garage. He could hear Barnabas barking wildly in the kitchen.

After receiving a good lathering about the chin, he went with Barnabas to Dooley’s room and found him sleeping, the jam box going full blast. He turned it off, covered the boy with the blanket, and went wearily across the hall.

He felt the little bump in his breast pocket and removed the blue pouch and put it on the dresser. Then he unpacked his briefcase.

Why were there no lights next door? Was she sleeping? Was she, in fact, safely home?

He went to the window and looked out at her house. He saw a light come on in her bedroom, just before the Lord’s Chapel bells tolled eleven.

He hurriedly splashed water on his face, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair, regretting every moment it took to do it.

The rain had become a downpour as he ran through the hedge and up her back steps, huddling close to the door as he knocked. At last, he opened her never-locked door and shouted, “Cynthia! Are you there?”

“Cynthia!” he called again, going through the kitchen to the stairs.

She appeared on the landing in her bathrobe, her hair bristling with the pink curlers he knew so well.

“Hello,” he said, dripping on the carpet. There was a long silence. “You’ll never guess where I’ve been.”

“I can’t imagine.” Her voice was as frozen as the dark side of the moon.

“New York. I’ve been to New York. I went looking for you.”

“You ... were in New York?” Even in the dim light, he could see the utter astonishment in her eyes.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I don’t believe it!”

“Miss Addison invited me to lunch, but I went to a deli with Walter instead.”

He saw a thousand fleeting emotions in her face, then she flew down the narrow staircase and into his arms, weeping.

In all his life, he had never had such a hug. It was as if his neighbor poured every power she possessed into it. He became warm all over and full inside. “Cynthia,” he murmured, wanting to weep himself, but only for joy.

“I’m so happy to see you!” she said, sobbing. “I can’t believe you went to New York, that you really did such a wonderful thing, and then ...”

“And then you weren’t there. I was ...”

“Devastated! Exactly the way I felt when I came home and you weren’t here. Dooley said you had gone away for two days to see your cousin. I had so wanted it to be a surprise! I was going to knock on your door, and you would come padding out from your study, and Barnabas would jump up and lick my face, and you would kiss me, and...”

“And I was going to knock on your door, and you would open it and be astounded, and you would know that I really do ...”

“Do what?”

“... love you. You would know it, then. I would have somehow ... proved it. And you could be at peace about it.”

She took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. He thought her curlers had never been more beautiful.

“I’ll never forget that you did this thing.”

He kissed her. It was a long, slow kiss that penetrated some ancient armor. He felt the top of his head tingle, as if Joe Ivey had applied a lavish dose of Sea Breeze.

They sat on the bottom step, holding each other.

“I think the top of my head just tingled,” he said hoarsely.

“I thought you were supposed to get cold chills on your right leg. It’s me whose head is supposed to tingle!”

“You mean, it didn’t?”

“I cannot tell a lie. It didn’t.”

He looked so crestfallen that she laughed deliriously. “Goofy!” she said, kissing his cheek. “My goofy, goofy guy!”