Finders Keepers (13 page)

“You’ve never told me about your grandmother.”

“I loved her,” she said simply. “She and Grace were a lot alike. The other day when I went to visit Phil Fox, he said something I didn’t want to hear. It hurt me a lot, but it explained a few things.”

Zachary felt instantly protective, like an angry grizzly bear. “What did he say to you?”

“He told me I could never bring Grace back.” She shrugged. “He’s right. Saving the mansion won’t help me hold onto her. She’s gone, and I have to accept that.”

“Changes don’t always mean losses, though.”

She looked up, her blue eyes misty. “How can you say that?”

“Well … I’m here. Maybe it’s not the greatest trade-off. But when my aunt died, that brought me to Ambleside. I’m glad I came.”

“You two lovebirds!” Pearlene Fox exclaimed, clasping her hands in delight. “Liz, we’re going to have to start looking through bridal magazines for a dress for you. Phil said to me just the other day, he said, ‘Pearlene, why don’t you carry any wedding gowns?’ And you know, I’d never given it much thought. I mean, I carry a whole range of prom dresses. But wedding gowns? Well, most of the gals just go to Jeff City to buy their bridal outfits. I don’t know, though; maybe I should get some for Très Chic. What do you think?”

Zachary thought he’d like to run.

“I’m not in the market for a wedding gown, Pearlene,” Elizabeth said firmly. “And you can just tell Phil—”

“Where is Phil?” Zachary cut in, hoping to ward off a storm. “I was planning to talk to him. The other day I was over at the courthouse, and the deeds officer told me Phil had been in there doing some checking on my property.”

Pearlene went white. “I’ll swan, this town is so full of gossips you just never know what you’re going to hear next.”

“The mansion’s going through probate, but I’m not anticipating any snags. Is Phil?”

“Heavens, how would I know? I just run the dress shop is all.”

With a look of mixed annoyance and concern, she turned on her heel and headed off. Zachary watched her go, wondering what shade of bottled blonde she put on her hair. Truth to tell, he had a hard time liking Phil and Pearlene Fox. They considered themselves big fish in this small pond. But they acted a lot like sharks.

“There’s Pastor Paul in the pavilion,” Elizabeth said. “I’m going over for the prayer.”

Zachary walked beside her, recognizing yet another advantage to church attendance. A good pastor could change lives. In his experience, truly effective ministers were few and far between. But Pastor Paul had a way of reaching out and drawing in his flock that made Zachary open to becoming one of them.

Standing under a grove of towering oak trees, Zachary bowed his head as the minister offered a prayer of thanksgiving for his congregation, for the beautiful Sunday afternoon, and for the food. It was a simple but sincere prayer, and Zachary found himself imagining how God felt when a faithful man like Pastor Paul spoke with him.

Lonely.
The word filled his heart.
Lonely for you, my son.

Zachary rubbed his eyes, confused at the echoed reverberations inside him. All around, the townsfolk were chattering again, quickly forming a line on each side of the long picnic tables, loading their Styrofoam plates with fried chicken, potato salad, pork steaks, and baked beans.

“Zachary?” Nick’s small hand slipped into his. “Are you coming to eat with us? They have workshops here. I love workshops. They smell so yummy that I can almost taste them in my mouth!”

“Workshops?” Still dazed at the powerful realization of God’s longing for him, Zachary made his way to the end of the line.

“Pork chops,” Elizabeth said softly. “Nick’s favorite.”

And then Zachary started to laugh. He grabbed Nick around the shoulders and gave the boy a hug. What a cute kid. Challenging, needy, but definitely a charmer.

“Look, there’s Mrs. Wrinkles!” Nick exclaimed, darting out of the line and racing across the pavilion toward a lovely young woman seated with her family at one of the long picnic tables.

“Mrs. Winkler,” Elizabeth clarified. “She’s Nick’s English language teacher. She’s been with him since the first day of school. Sometimes I think she understands him better than I do.”

“Can’t she get him to call her by her real name?”

“Oh, she doesn’t mind. You know, there are some things about Nick that are very hard to change. He’s … he’s got a lot of special needs. Learning is difficult for him, and his social skills don’t match his age.”

“You knew that when you adopted him?”

“I knew he was going to have problems. A child can’t live five years in a Romanian orphanage and come out unscarred. Nick was severely abused.”

Zachary felt his stomach sink. “Abused?”

“Beaten, malnourished—the works. He’s a tough little survivor, though. I know God has a great plan for his life. I can’t wait to see what he’s going to do with Nick.”

Zachary followed Elizabeth through the food line, wondering what God had planned for
his
life. Had Zachary lived up to God’s dreams for him? Had Zachary even tried to walk the path his heavenly Father had set out for him?

Sure, he’d had a tough childhood, raised in poverty and then sent into the foster-care system. But Nick had faced much worse. If God had a good and perfect plan for this little boy, didn’t he have one just as good for Zachary?

“There’s a spot over by Mrs. McCann,” Elizabeth was saying, as she carried a loaded plate in each hand. “I love to sit near her. She reminds me of my grandmother.”

“Does everyone remind you of your grandmother?”

“I miss Gramma a lot.” She set off in the direction of a picnic table beneath a tree. Zachary decided he was going to follow, even though he hadn’t been invited. He’d been wanting to talk to Ruby anyway. And, of course, there was Elizabeth with her sparkling eyes and sweet smile …

“This lettuce is not fresh,” Mrs. McCann announced as Zachary and Elizabeth joined her. “I can hardly believe that Mrs. Zimmerman would send a wilted salad to the potluck.”

Zachary fought a grin. Kaye Zimmerman ran the local beauty salon. At about five-thirty every evening, she would dash into the Corner Market and breathlessly lament her inability to put a good supper on the table for her family. Kaye’s Kut-n-Kurl just took up too much of her time, she told Zachary. That probably explained the wilted lettuce.

“Maybe it’s supposed to be wilted,” Elizabeth was saying. “I’ve heard of such a thing as a wilted salad.”

“Only when one can’t be bothered to select a fresh head of lettuce for one’s salad.” Ruby McCann’s brilliantly white hair gleamed in the afternoon sun, every hair perfectly placed in her curled coiffure. Zachary suspected that the librarian had a regular appointment with Kaye Zimmerman each week. But that didn’t stop her from critiquing the salad.

“And how are you, Master Nikolai?” Mrs. McCann inquired as the boy skipped over to the table to take his place. “I see you have been chatting with your teacher.”

“I love Mrs. Wrinkles.” Nick made the statement and then plunged into his pork chops.

“And Mr. Chalmers, I understand your tenure as our local grocer is at an end?” Ruby asked.

“’Fraid so. I’d keep the market open if I could, but I’ve got clients waiting. Boompah’s been up and about a lot lately, though. I predict he’ll be running the place himself soon.”

“I cannot imagine what I would do without my morning milk.”

“You could buy a larger carton, Mrs. McCann. A half gallon would last you several days.”

She looked at him as though he had brought in a stack of overdue books. “I am only one person, Mr. Chalmers. My beloved husband passed away twenty years ago. In case you were unaware, the new subdivision on the outskirts of town is named for him. Yes, Mr. McCann was a generous man, and he was also thrifty. I am quite certain he would agree with me that purchasing an entire half gallon of milk would be wasteful.”

“Did you live in Ambleside throughout your marriage?”

“I have lived here all my life. I was born in the very house in which I reside.” She held up a gnarled finger. “Stability is a sacred thing, Mr. Chalmers. Miss Hayes recognizes that fact. You should reconsider her request to purchase the mansion from you. Tearing it down to build your office complex would be a desecration to the town and to your ancestry.”

Zachary lifted his brows and had to smile in amazement. Everyone in Ambleside really did know his business. They knew about the mansion, his architectural work, his relationship with Elizabeth—everything. They probably all knew what a lousy Christian he’d been, too. What bitterness he carried toward his parents. What a self-centered, stubborn, and ambitious man he could be.

“The mansion at 100 Walnut Street was built in 1886,” Mrs. McCann was saying, her eyes taking on a distant gaze. “The builder was Zachary Chalmers, your great-grandfather. He was a merchant who hailed from the town of Ambleside in northwest England’s Lake District. He came to America, founded this town in which we live, and conducted a prosperous mercantile business on the Missouri River. When he was still a young man, he built the magnificent home that bears your family’s surname.”

Zachary looked across the park at the crumbling old house that was his legacy. “You mean I was named after the founder of Ambleside?”

“Indeed you were. It is a grand heritage you bear, young man. In the year 1890, Zachary Chalmers’s wife bore a son. Caleb was your grandfather. A fine gentleman, he was. He carried on the tradition of the family and added to its holdings through his shipping enterprises. He died the year you were born.”

“How do you know when I was born?”

“My dear boy, I am the librarian of this town. I make it my business to record the history of Ambleside’s prominent families.”

“But my family didn’t even live here. I grew up in Jefferson City.”

“Grace Chalmers was born in 1925,” Mrs. McCann went on, seemingly oblivious to her listener. “She was a beauty even as a baby, so they say. Many years later, when Caleb and his wife had given up all hope of a son to carry on the family name, William was born.”

“My father.”

Mrs. McCann dabbed her lips with a paper napkin. “By then, of course, Grace had made it clear to everyone that she had no desire to ever marry.”

“Why not? You said she was beautiful.”

“She was unlucky in love,” Nick announced around a mouthful of pork. “That’s what Grace always used to tell us, huh, Mom? Unlucky in love.”

“She loved a young man once, and she had hoped to marry him,” Elizabeth recalled, “but her father objected.”

“Why?” Zachary demanded.

“The young man was unacceptable,” Ruby explained, as though that resolved the matter. “And then William, too, became such a great disappointment.”

Zachary reflected on his father, the familiar image of a handsome but unsuccessful man stamped in his mind. How many fledgling businesses had William Chalmers started in Jefferson City? A restaurant, a dry cleaners, a construction company. He’d sold encyclopedias, vacuums, cleaning products, and tinned popcorn. Every time something new came along, he jumped on it, sure it was going to make him rich. Instead, more children were born, the family sank deeper into debt, and the big one never happened.

“Caleb would not have disinherited his son,” Mrs. McCann said, “but William walked away from all his family had built for him. He hated Ambleside. Despised his father. Abhorred the family heritage. He was determined to make his own way in the world, young William told his father. He was going to do things
his
way. And, as you know, he did just that.”

Zachary looked down at his plate and realized he’d stopped eating. Hadn’t he adopted the exact same attitude as his father? William had failed, and Zachary had succeeded. But had such an attitude done either man much good?

“What about my aunt?” he asked. “You told me I’d met her many times. I don’t remember that. I don’t remember her at all.”

Mrs. McCann’s paper-thin eyelids slid shut, and she let out a deep breath. “Goodness, I am
so
full! I shall hardly have room for dessert.”

“Wait.” Zachary reached out and took her thin wrist as she moved to rise. “Please, Mrs. McCann. Tell me about my Aunt Grace.”

Cornflower blue eyes regarded him. “When you were a little boy, sometimes your mother would take you to the park and leave you in the company of a kind caretaker. She had lovely eyes and dark hair, and she doted on you. Do you remember her?”

Zachary searched his mind. “Those swings near the trailer park … there was a slide … and a woman who caught me at the bottom … and she always wore a red coat.”

Ruby McCann chuckled. “Oh, yes, the notorious red coat. That was her, all right. That was Grace Chalmers.”

Rising like a thin wraith, the old woman gave him a half smile and slipped away toward the dessert table.

Elizabeth took Nick’s hand and urged her son and his little friend from the park’s playground. The sun was setting, and most of the picnickers had gone home long ago. But Nick and Montgomery were lost in the joy of their playtime, and she didn’t have the heart to disrupt them.

Zachary Chalmers had left the picnic not long after he’d eaten, excusing himself quietly and saying he had some business he wanted to take care of. Elizabeth had been sorry to see the man go, but she knew he was preparing to get back to work in his office the following morning. That meant the Corner Market would be closed again, and everyone would start to grumble. Phil Fox would say, “One unreliable grocery store—that’s just what’s wrong with this town.”