The Day Will Come (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

I helped Lucy finish up the milking, wondering all the while why exactly Tom Copper had come to my farm. Thinking back on our conversation, it seemed the only thing he had initiated was the question of whether or not I thought Ricky had killed Genna. Tom agreed that he wanted it to be the band’s new drummer, but never actually said he thought Ricky did it. Which made me wonder—which one of his friends did Tom Copper think murdered Genna?

“You done there?” Lucy stood at the barn door, one foot in, one foot out.

I set the pitchfork against the wall and looked over the newly limed aisles. “Yeah, I’m done.”

“Then come on in for supper. I’ve got that cheesy tuna casserole that you like in the oven.”

I wouldn’t say no to that.

I had just heaped seconds onto my plate when lights flashed into the kitchen window and across the cupboards.

“That’s Lenny,” Lucy said, jumping up from her seat. “You go ahead and finish.”

“I’m done,” Tess said. “Can I come, too?”

Lucy looked at me, and I waved my fork. “That’s fine. I can eat by myself.”

I had to get used to it again, anyway.

They left, and I got up to pour myself another glass of milk. Glancing out the window at Lenny’s truck, it seemed like there were more people than just him climbing out. There was a woman and…a wheelchair?

I stuck the milk back in the fridge and went to the door, where I looked out through the screen while a man lowered himself from the cab into the chair. I squinted, trying to see in the fading light outside. My head snapped upward when I realized who the man was. It was the guy from the concert. What was his name? I couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember his wife’s name, either.

The screen door slapped shut after I pushed my way through.

“You done with supper already?” Lucy asked, her head jerking my way.

“No. But I see we have more visitors than just Lenny.”

Her eyes darted toward the couple, and she put her hands first on her hips, then in her pockets, and finally clasped them together in front of her stomach.

“What’s going on, Lucy?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.”

“Howdy, Stella,” Lenny said. He stepped toward me and blocked the dusk-to-dawn light, casting his face in shadows. “I’m sorry to hear—”

He grunted as Lucy elbowed him.

“All right,” I said. “I was going to finish my supper, but now I want to know what’s happening.”

Lucy’s jaw tightened, and she looked at the ground.

“Stella?” The man in the wheelchair called me from the driveway. His wife stood behind him, trying to maneuver his wheelchair onto the walk.

I stepped forward. “That’s me. Sorry I can’t remember your names.”

“Norm,” the man said. “And Cindy.”

“From the concert.”

“Yeah. You saved our butts.”

“Well, Lenny did.”

Cindy cast a grateful glance toward our lumbering friend, but Norm tapped my arm. “From what I hear you helped clear the chair from the scene. So thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome. This the same one?”

“It is. We stopped in at the club on Monday and were able to pick it up. Just had to have a few repairs made and it was good to go.”

“I’m glad. I was sure we’d wrecked it.”

“Nah. These things are like tanks. At least the good ones are.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re all right. Now I’m headed back in to finish my supper. It’s nice you came to see Lucy.”

His face registered surprise, and Cindy made an “oh” kind of sound.

“What?” I said.

Lenny cleared his throat. “Norm and Cindy actually came to visit you.”

“Me? Why?” I looked at the four of them, their faces showing concern and—God help me—pity. And it struck me.

“You have MS,” I said to Norm.

“Last I checked.”

I glared at Lenny. “Bart
told
you.”

“Well. Yeah.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing through my nose.

“We thought it might help for you to talk to Norm and Cindy,” Lucy said. Her voice sounded tentative. Almost frightened. Which well it should.

“Oh, you thought so, did you?”

I turned to leave, but Norm clamped an iron hand on my arm.

“C’mon, darlin’. What would it hurt to talk to a poor old guy for a few minutes?”

I swallowed.

“One minute?” he said.

I shook my arm out of his grasp, but didn’t move away.

“Good,” Lucy said. “Why don’t we go inside?”

Norm and Cindy looked up the walk toward the side steps.

“Why don’t we just sit out here?” Norm said, a smile tickling his mouth. “It’s a nice night, and I don’t want to give my lovely wife—or Lenny here—a hernia trying to get me up there.”

“I’ll grab some lawn chairs,” Lucy said. She scurried away toward the garage.

I stood silently, thinking with annoyance about my congealing tuna casserole, until she came back and unfolded a chair behind me. I felt like ignoring it, but decided that would just be stupid.

When I was settled, Cindy beside me and Norm at an angle to my left, I heard the screen door close. A twist of my head confirmed that Lucy and Lenny had gone inside.

“It’s a bugger, huh?” Norm said.

I sat stiffly, my fingers clenched over the chair’s metal arms.

“Not something you really want to hear about someone you love. That he has this disease.”

“Not something you really want to talk about, either,” Cindy said. “At least not at first.”

My teeth remained clenched together, my throat tight.

“When we found out, we’d only been married a year,” Norm said. “Were trying to get pregnant, too, while I worked at the Radnor Library. Custodian. And we were renovating an old house.” He shifted slightly in the chair. “It started slowly. I’d get tingling in my fingers and toes, kept dropping stuff. Was tired all the time. Thought it was just I was working too hard. I finally went to the doctor when I went numb on my whole left side.”

Cindy put her hand on Norm’s, and he grasped her fingers.

“Didn’t take the doctors too long to figure out what was going on. I thought at first I was going to die. You know, real quick. Took all kinds of tests. Was at the hospital all the time. But we got some good advice, and that kept us going.”

He looked at me, waiting, I suppose, for a response.

“Docs told us I wouldn’t die from MS. I’d just have to learn to live with it. Cindy, too. And they told us not to rush out and join a support group. Last thing we needed was a bunch of people boo-hooing about their disease and carrying on like they were gonna die tomorrow. So we waited on that. Finally did find a good group. More an informational group than anything. We compared medicines, had speakers, educated each other. Worked out well. We made some good friends there.”

I took a deep breath and let it out through my mouth. I wondered where Jordan was. I really ought to check up on him and see how he was doing, make sure he wasn’t falling apart.

“There are a lot of worries,” Norm said. “Don’t get me wrong. You worry your employer will find out and fire you and you’ll lose your insurance. Course that’s not really legal, but you never know. You worry about the tests. You worry about what people will think. You worry about having kids. So, you know, you don’t make a general announcement about it, but people do hear. You find out who your true friends are. Lot of the morons act like they’ll get it from you or something. The good ones ask questions and learn how to support you.”

Jordan probably was at his house. Or he could be taking stuff over to the German-Hungarian club to get ready for Saturday. I hoped to God he wasn’t down in Philly again, trying to get into Ricky’s place.

“There are things you have to change. Like staying away from sick people. The meds you take lower your immune system. And of course there are the meds themselves you have to take. And the fall weather change is difficult. Makes your joints hurt, could bring on an episode. But really, there’s not much you can’t do, at least at first. You can exercise, long as you don’t overdo it. You might want to avoid whitewater rafting, that kind of stuff. You can drive, except when you’re seeing double, but that’s just common sense. You can have kids, that’s for sure. There’s no chance of passing it on to them. We’ve got two in college, and they’re doing just great.”

I wondered if Jordan had talked to Ma yet. I hoped so, for her sake. Or at least let her know he was all right. She’d go nuts pretty soon if he didn’t at least leave her a message.

“The biggest fear,” Norm said, “is that you’ll end up in a wheelchair, like me. But you know, I lived with it for a long time before ending up in my little vehicle, here. And medicine’s a lot more advanced now. Drugs are better, doctors know more. Especially when it’s caught early. And we’ve done okay, Cindy and me, even with the chair. Haven’t we, honey?”

Cindy made an affirming sound, and patted their clasped hands with her other one.

“You know,” Norm said, “they used to say you could live twenty-five years past your diagnosis. But anymore that’s just not true. It’s already been twenty-eight for me and I don’t plan on passing away anytime soon.”

I swiveled my head to the left in time to catch an intense look of love passing between Norm and Cindy, their faces tender and soft.

I unclenched my hands from the chair’s arms, gave what might’ve resembled a smile, and stood up. I walked away and didn’t stop until I’d reached the very middle of my property.

On my back between two rows of corn, I lay looking at the emerging stars and waited for tears to come.

But my eyes were as dry as the field around me.

And there was no telling the extended forecast.

Chapter Twenty-Five

By the time I got back to the house Lenny and the other two were gone. The house was dark, and I held the screen door so it wouldn’t bang shut and wake Tess. She wouldn’t be getting up early for the bus, since she was taking the day off to be at the wedding rehearsal, but there was no doubt she’d need her sleep to get through the stress of the next couple days.

I left my boots at the door and was tiptoeing through the living room when a movement on the sofa made me jump.

“Sorry,” Lucy said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Why are you sitting here in the dark? Lenny’s not here, is he?”

“No. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You can’t do that with the light on?”

“It was peaceful.”

I grunted and forgot about tiptoeing on my way to the upstairs door.

“Stella,” Lucy said.

I paused, my hand on the doorknob.

“I’m sorry about Nick.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So am I.”

I opened the door and went upstairs.

***

As soon as milking was done in the morning I went into the house to grab something to eat. The kitchen smelled of eggs and sausage, and I raised my eyebrows at the feast on the counter.

“Thought you’d enjoy a hearty breakfast,” Lucy said. From the way she was looking at me, I could tell she wasn’t sure how I’d be feeling toward her after the visitors the night before.

I sat down. “I am hungry.”

She plunked a carton of orange juice onto the table and sat down across from me, bringing the food platters with her.

“You’re gonna eat with me, too?” I asked.

She tried out a smile. “I need my strength today.”

“Yeah. You excited?”

She paused, her fork in the air. “Excited. Nervous. Terrified.” She took a bite of eggs and spoke around it. “But mostly just happy.”

“And Tess?”

“Not up yet. Guess those school mornings really are too early for her.”

We ate for a few minutes.

“Everything ready for the milk truck?” Lucy asked.

“Doug’ll be fine. He’s done it before.”

We ate some more.

“You coming to the church with me, or driving separately?” Lucy asked.

“I’ll go myself, since you probably want to go early and stay late.”

“But you’ll come in time to help with details?”

I looked her in the eye. “I’ll be there, Lucy. Everything will be fine.”

She set down her fork and lined it up with her napkin. “Yeah. I know.”

The door to the stairs slammed and Tess came running into the kitchen, dressed in a cute purple outfit, her church sandals slapping on the hardwood floor. Only her hair had been forgotten, still a bed-mussed mess.

“We ready to go, Mom?”

Lucy held out her arms for a hug. “Just about. Want some breakfast?”

Tess gave her mom a quick squeeze. “Nope. We’re having lunch at the church, right?”

“Well, yes, but not for a while.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Lucy turned to me for help, but I leaned back. “Oh, no. I’m not getting in the middle of this.” I pushed my chair away from the table and got up.

“Stella,” Lucy said, “I was wondering if you…”

The tone of her voice set off a rash of irritation up my spine. Because of her persistence or my own guilt, I wasn’t sure. “No,” I said. “I didn’t call Nick.”

I shoved my chair under the table. “I’ll see you at church in a little while.”

“Can I go with Stella, Mom? Pleasepleasepleasepl—”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Tess hopped toward me and hung on my arms. “Pleaseplease pl—”

I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s fine. I need to take a shower, though. So you’ll have to wait.”

“That’s okay. You take quick showers.”

So I stumped upstairs, took my turn in the bathroom, and tried to figure out what was appropriate to wear to a wedding rehearsal. Jeans and a Harley T-shirt? Jeans and a flannel shirt? Jeans and…what?

I rifled through my T-shirt drawer and came up with a relatively new white one. It had quite a few wrinkles from being scrunched down in there for so long, but it would do.

Lucy was just leaving as I got downstairs, and though her eyes flicked over my clothes, she didn’t say a word. Saving her energy for the wedding outfit, I guess. Which I really needed to check on. I’d left it up to Ma, and I assumed she’d keep up her end of the bargain.

I gathered up Tess and we headed to Sellersville Mennonite Church, where the Grangers had always attended, and where Lucy had gone since coming to work for me the last summer. Lenny wasn’t a member of any church, but had made token appearances at Sellersville, now that he and Lucy were an item.

“Stella Crown, haven’t seen you for a while.”

Peter Reinford, the pastor of the church, welcomed me at the door with a smile and an outstretched hand.

“Well, I’m still alive,” I said.

He laughed. “I would’ve welcomed Tess, too, except she ran past me at a million miles an hour.”

“She’s excited.”

“I guess. You ready to be the maid of honor?”

How he said this without a burst of laughter was beyond me, but then, pastors are supposed to have some extra inner strength the rest of us are lacking. Or more self-control, anyway.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Come on in, then.”

The foyer embraced me with the comforting smell of sloppy joes. A glance toward the kitchen showed me Ma in her splendor, organizing food and ordering workers around. Looked like her crew consisted of the church’s kitchen committee, most of whom were probably relieved to have someone else running things, even with Ma barking orders at them. I suddenly felt lucky to only be in the wedding party.

“Stella!” Lucy’s mother, Lois, strode toward me, hands outstretched.

I let her hug me, and stepped back. “Where’s Lucy?”

She tipped her head toward the church’s library. “On the phone. Something got mixed up with the flowers for tomorrow, and she’s trying to fix it.” She smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah. You, too.” I meant it. Lois and Ron Ruth were wonderful parents to Lucy, and even greater grandparents to Tess. They’d offered to stay and be with Tess for the next week, since she couldn’t go to Lancaster and miss school, but Tess assured them I’d be enough. We’d see about that.

“Lenny here?” I asked her.

“Yup. In the sanctuary, helping with some decorations.”

“How much time, Rev?” I asked Peter.

He glanced at his watch. “We won’t start the actual rehearsal for, oh, another twenty minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll go see if I can help.”

I went up the stairs to the main worship space, where Lenny was sitting on the front platform, trying to tie a bow with a wide ribbon.

“Having a good time?” I asked.

He glanced up, scowling. “I told Lucy my fingers were too fat for this.” He held it out. “You try.”

“Oh, no. Ribbons are definitely not my thing.”

“Help me, then.”

I turned toward the voice to find Jordan carrying some mic stands toward the front of the church.

“Hey, Jordan.”

He jerked his chin, and I followed.

“Did San get a hold of you the other day?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“She called, trying to find you. It was…” I thought back. “Wednesday, I guess. Before…” Before all hell had broken loose and I’d had to go running to Philly to keep Jordan from pummeling Ricky.

“Oh, yeah. She left a message.”

“You talk to her?”

He slid the microphone into the holder. “And you need to know because…?”

I held up my hands. “You’re right. I don’t. I just wanted to make sure you got the message.”

He walked back toward the church’s sound booth, and I tagged along. In the closet-sized room, he handed me a lapel mic, along with another mic stand. I backed out, giving him room to maneuver. Lenny, still trying to tie the bow, finally stood up and threw the ribbon on the ground. I tried not to laugh as he stormed down the aisle toward the fellowship hall, bellowing, “Lucy!”

Jordan pressed past me, and again I followed, this time to the piano at the front of the church, where he pointed at a spot for me to set the stand. He glanced around, and when he saw we were alone, said, “You know how you were asking me about Donny and Tonya?”

“Yeah. I was guessing they’d been together at some point.”

He tore a piece of duct tape with his teeth, and bent to secure a cable to the floor. “Seems they were. Back in college. In fact, they were together when the Tom Copper Band was first formed.”

“Wow. How’d you find out?”

“Asked LeRoy.”

“So why did things change?”

“Seems Tom came to his senses sooner than Donny. All the guys liked the groupie girls back then. Including Donny, even though he had a girlfriend. Tom soon realized he liked Tonya’s love for the music more than he liked the one-nighters, and basically stole her away from Donny.”

“Ouch. How’d Donny take it?”

“Took him a while to realize it, actually, he was such a mess back then. And when he finally did, it about broke up the band. But somehow they got through it, and he and Tonya are good friends now.”

Uh-huh. “Just like he and Genna were good friends.”

“Well. I guess.”

I shook my head. The rate Donny went, he must’ve had good friends all over the country.

“We about ready in here?”

Peter Reinford walked in, flanked by Lucy, Lenny, Tess, and now Bart, who flashed a grin. He’d opted for a button-down Harley shirt to go with his jeans.

“A white T-shirt, Princess?” he asked.

“Because she’s so angelic,” Lenny said.

Everyone got a good laugh out of that one.

“Belle’s here,” Lucy said, referring to Zach’s mom, who was serving as the pianist. “I saw her in the lobby.”

“I’ll get her!” Tess said.

As she flounced away, Jordan took the lapel mic from my hand and helped Peter secure it to his coat.

“Doing sound already today?” Peter asked.

Jordan nodded. “Want to make sure we have everything we need.”

Belle arrived, dragged by the hand, and made her way to the piano.

“Okay, everyone,” Peter said. “Let’s practice the processional. You can count music, right, Stella?”

And thus began the rehearsal from hell.

An hour and a half later Peter deemed it all “close enough for country,” (which he said with a smile, since he had great affection for Tim McGraw, Faith Hill, and their kind) and sent us all to the fellowship hall for the rehearsal dinner.

I followed the pack, my stomach having rumbled during the entire rehearsal after smelling the food all that time. But when I got to the top of the stairs I froze.

Nick sat at one of the tables, waiting.

My stomach immediately switched modes, and I tried to remember exactly where the closest bathroom was. My eyes, however, were locked to his, even as I struggled to breathe.

“Stella?” Lucy stood beside me.

I ripped my eyes from Nick. “I didn’t think—”

“He’d still come?”

“Well…”

Her face held a combination of kindness and steel. “He’s my friend, too.”

I looked back at Nick, who kept his eyes on me.

“Oh, God,” I said, and stumbled backward into the sanctuary. I sank into a pew, where I leaned forward onto the back of the bench in front of me, resting my face on my hands. I concentrated on my breathing until I could do it without wheezing.

The bench creaked as someone sat next to me. A peek sideways showed me a pair of new khaki pants. Not jeans. I closed my eyes again.

“You want to talk?” Nick said.

“No.”

I stayed sitting there long enough he finally got up and went away.

A little while later, my stomach was beginning to growl again. I sat up and weighed my options. The one I liked best had to do with me walking out of the church and never coming back. Realistically, though, I knew that would backfire. Instead, I left the sanctuary through a door at the front, which took me outside. I walked around to the back of the building, toward the kitchen. I knocked on the locked screen door.

One of the kitchen workers peered out at me. “Oh. You.” She turned toward Ma. “Can she come in?”

Ma looked up from where she was scrubbing a crockpot in the sink. “I suppose.”

The woman unlocked the door and I went through.

“You want leftovers,” Ma said, “you’ll have to help yourself.”

I ducked out of the sightlines of the fellowship hall and found a Tupperware container filled with beef. I slapped some on a hamburger bun and took a bite.

“You know what you’re doing?” Ma asked.

I swallowed. “About what?”

“That’s what I thought.” She thumped the crockpot upside down onto a towel and turned toward me, arms crossed on her chest. “You have a lovely man out there, who for some reason seems to think you’re the one for him, regardless of the way you’ve been ignoring him.”

“I—”

“Which,” she continued, “affirms that the Lord moves in mysterious ways.” She snapped her dish towel and hung it over the drying rack.

“Ma, there are—”

“And don’t tell me you have your reasons. Whatever they are, they aren’t good enough. So are you going to go out there and talk to him, or cower here in the kitchen?”

My choice would’ve been the cowering one if we hadn’t heard a commotion coming from the fellowship hall. Ma took one glance toward the front door and lit out of the kitchen. I peered around the doorway, and stopped chewing.

Detective Willard and his non-pal Alexander from the Philly police stood in the foyer. Lenny barricaded their way to the main room and Ma was bearing down fast. I wasn’t about to lay odds on the cops’ success of entry.

I set down my sandwich, undecided as to what action to take, until Jordan walked down the stairs into the eating area. The look on his face was enough to make me overcome my…whatever it was…and head into the fray.

Reaching Jordan, I grabbed his elbow. “Don’t worry. Looks like Ma and Lenny have got your back.”

He shook his arm out of my grip. “But for what? How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t
do
anything?”

“You never had to tell me. It’s the cops you have to convince.”

He started to say something else, but stopped when Alexander somehow skirted around Ma and made his way toward Jordan.