The Four Gifts of the King Read online

  Great, just great. Incompetent jerk. Why couldn’t she find any good people? All she ever seemed to do was hire and fire. Why couldn’t she find any loyalty anymore?

  She sighed and took a moment to look around. She’d pulled up behind the well-worn little Prius that now looked even more out of place than usual between Alex’s Lexus and her BMW.

  Poor Anna. Would she ever be able to afford a real car?

  Merideth collected herself. The sight of the family home calmed her a bit. She pulled out her bag and walked up to the porch. Despite the cold, she sat for a moment on one of the rattan chairs. She could hear voices in the house.

  She closed her eyes. A moment…just a moment to prepare.

  She breathed in and blew out through pursed lips then got up and walked in the door and down the hallway to the kitchen. “Hey, you two…oh, hi, Alex. Where is Anna?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Upstairs. Guess I set her off a bit.”

  Already? That didn’t take long. “Be nice. She’s fragile, you know.”

  “I was nice. Geez, sis, all I said was that I wanted the best for her.”

  “Meaning your best or hers?”

  Alex slammed his hands on the counter and looked down at the floor. “Can’t I say anything around here without its getting blown out of proportion?” He looked up at Merideth. “I just want her to be happy. Is that so bad?”

  Poor brother. You’re wound so tight. Well, go ahead and get angry. I’m keeping this smile on my face until I know what Walter has in mind.

  “Okay, let’s forget it and start over. I’m sure she’s fine. And, Alex, it’s good to see you.”

  Merideth gave him a hug, which she could sense he appreciated. She poured herself a cup of coffee while Alex took her suitcase upstairs to her room then wandered down the hall into the family room. She picked up the corner of her favorite comforter and rubbed the soft cotton fabric between her fingers. It had a log cabin pattern made of strips of fabric in deep greens, browns, rusts, and golds. Lori had made it for her sixteenth birthday…

  She sat down for a minute and pulled the heavy comforter over her.

  How many mornings had she sat here under this quilt, drinking coffee and wondering how soon she could get out of this town?

  “There’s a familiar sight. Welcome to Harvest, sister.”

  “Hi, Anna.” Merideth looked over as her younger sister entered the room. She was wearing an oversized beige shirt over her jeans to hide her weight. Her hair was a dull brown, and without makeup she looked pale and old.

  Oh, Anna, you look terrible.

  Anna leaned down and hugged her. “It’s good to have you back in the house. Dad would be so pleased to see you here.”

  “Yes, well, I hope so.”

  Anna took hold of her arm. “Mer, you know he would be. Look—I know you two drifted apart, but Dad missed you and always wanted you to feel welcome here. He loved you so much. You know that, don’t you?”

  Sure, he loved her—he just hated what she did.

  “Yes, sure, I know that. But thanks for the reminder. So are you okay? I guess big brother pushed some old buttons.”

  Anna dropped her gaze. “That’s my fault. I’m too sensitive. I’ll apologize. He was just trying to help.”

  And there she was. Anna, always apologizing and taking the blame. Heaping more weight on her tired shoulders.

  Stand up straight, girl. “Hey, don’t let him off the hook so easily. He can stew a little. It’s good for him.”

  Anna gave a half smile. “Not today. This is Dad’s day, and I want us to be together and get along…for him…and for Mom.”

  With that, she looked at Merideth, stepped forward, and fell into her arms. “Mer, they’re gone. They’ll never be back here!”

  Merideth consoled her older sister, cringing as Anna’s tears soaked into her silk jacket.

  I should’ve worn a blend.

  “That’s it, the big house on the corner. Just stop in front. It looks like everyone else is here.”

  Reed paid the cab driver, got his suitcase from the trunk, and started up the front walk. He noted the three cars.

  Must be nice to have the time to drive across the state. Still, maybe better than that turboprop, puddle-jumper he’d bounced over in.

  As he stood looking up at the old familiar surroundings, the front door opened and Alex came down the stairs. “Reed, hey, welcome home. How was the flight?”

  Reed set his suitcase down and shook his brother’s hand. “Cramped, slow, and bumpy. Not exactly first-class to London. How was the drive?”

  “Not bad, actually. It’s been awhile since I’ve driven across state. Pretty quiet over here. Hey, hold on for a minute and let me grab my cell phone charger.” As Alex went to his car, Reed looked at the house. His boyhood sprang to life in front of him.

  Over there was where he played Superman on the roof and fell off. His cape—a big beach towel from Seaside, Oregon—caught on the gutter and left him swinging six feet from the ground.

  Can’t believe I didn’t break my neck. Glad old man Farquar found me before Dad.

  He noticed the piece of plywood nailed to the side of the front stair risers.

  The skunk. He’d forgotten about that.

  Alex beeped his car lock and rejoined Reed. “There, thanks. C’mon—the girls are inside.”

  Reed put out his hand and stopped him. “Hey, Alex, do you remember that skunk that got stuck under the front stairs the day of the prom?”

  “Oh…yeah. Dad had a broom and a bed sheet, and you and I each had a pan and a wooden spoon.”

  Reed started laughing. “Yeah, and some guy…Tommy Mertz, that was him…he was supposed to pick Mer up for the prom any time. And here we are banging on pots and Dad trying not to get sprayed, and the whole front porch smelled like skunk.”

  Alex was bent over. “And Dad…Dad catches the thing in the sheet and stands there looking at it and says, ‘Maybe we can teach him not to spray and keep him as a pet.’ And then it sprays him, right through the sheet.”

  Reed wiped his eyes. “That porch stunk for a week, and poor Mer had to meet her date at the end of the block. She said she could smell it most of the way to the gymnasium.”

  Alex nodded. “Anna called us the smelly boys that entire summer.”

  Reed relished the memory and a chance to laugh out loud. He caught his breath. “So…how’s Anna doing?”

  Alex collected himself. “Oh, not great. We’ve already had a run-in. She’s pretty vulnerable right now.”

  Right now? He’d never seen her when she wasn’t vulnerable. Reed followed Alex inside and found Anna and Merideth in the kitchen. “Hey, ladies, the gang’s all here now.” He gave them both a hug.

  Anna held on for an extra moment. “I’m so glad to have you here, little brother. After what we went through when Mom died, can you believe this? I mean, just two years?”

  Reed had spent several days with Anna and his dad going through their mom’s things, telling stories, and laughing and crying together. Alex was tied up in a big real estate deal and only came the day of the funeral. Merideth had been overseas on business and nearly missed it altogether.

  Theirs wasn’t exactly a close-knit family. Reed was surprised everyone was here. Of course, they all knew Dad’s secret. “Yeah, I still can’t believe he’s gone. How is it for you guys? Being back here without Dad…and Mom?

  Alex reached in the refrigerator and took out a Pepsi. “I was the first one here, and it was hard. My heart knew they were supposed to be here. I waited for their voices…and nothing.”

  The four looked at each other, silent.

  Finally, Merideth grabbed a cup from a rack on the wall. “Reed, can I get you some coffee? You’re just in time for lunch. I’m guessing they didn’t feed you on the plane.”

  “Not hardly. Five stale pretzels won’t cut it. Where’d all the food come from?”

  Anna raised a hand. “That would be me, from the restaurant.”

 
“Wow, thanks. Can we pay for this?”

  Please don’t take that the wrong way.

  Anna smiled. “No, Allen—he’s the owner—he gave it to us no charge. He wanted to pass along his sympathies.”

  Reed picked up a slice of bread and buttered it. “Tell him thanks from all of us.”

  The four made lunch and sat around the familiar kitchen table to eat. Reed watched his siblings…

  Alex was guarded but grieving.

  Anna, of course, was struggling to hold it together.

  But Merideth…she acted like she was at a reunion, not their dad’s funeral. Didn’t she feel anything at all?

  Merideth looked at her watch. “What time should we leave?”

  “Say, 3:30?” Alex replied. “It starts at four, and then the graveside service.”

  Anna perked up. “Reverend Frolic asked us to stay afterward and be part of a reception line to greet people. Don’t forget that.”

  Merideth grimaced. “I wish I could. We get to shake hands with a town full of people who wonder why we’re even here.”

  Reed felt the tension fill the room.

  Well, the cat was out of the bag now. Leave it to Merideth.

  No one dared reply for a moment, so he waded in. “That might be a little unfair, Mer. Although I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

  Alex set his sandwich down and wiped his hands with his napkin, pushing with more intensity than necessary. “You all don’t have to worry. I’ll be the target for most of the daggers.”

  Anna started toward him. “Alex, that’s not—”

  “C’mon. Let’s be honest. I’m the golden boy of the church who went off to seminary and disappointed God, my parents, the church and, well, the whole blasted town. Left the calling, left the faith, left the community. No, I’ll be the target here.”

  Reed watched Anna and Merideth for a response. Anna stepped in—no surprise there.

  “Alex, that all may be true, but there’s enough in all our lives for people here to question. I mean, Mom and Dad had views…and values…and expectations—”

  Merideth slammed her fork down. “And we let them down. Is that it, Anna? So by following our hearts, moving away, working hard, and being successful, we somehow violated a family vow of—what? Poverty?”

  Reed turned sideways in his chair and crossed his legs. “Mer, you have to admit our lives don’t exactly reflect our parents’ values. I mean, look at me. Dad tried so hard to teach me about being a steward, being generous, and not loving my toys so much. Mom hoped I would stay closer to the faith, find a church, and marry a nice Christian girl. I’ve missed the mark on about every score. But I know Dad loved us, just like we talked about at Mom’s funeral. They may have been disappointed in our decisions, but they loved us. And the people here knew that, I think.”

  Merideth’s shoulders lifted, and a scowl spread across her forehead. “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to apologize for success. I know Dad never understood it, but I’m not carrying a load of guilt because I chose a different life from the one he’d hoped I would. And if these people can’t deal with it, then to….” She shook her head. “Well, that’s their problem. Not mine.” She stood, looked at each of them, lifted her chin and strolled out.

  Reed looked at Anna, and she mouthed a silent “thank you.” Alex just sat quietly, staring down at his plate of picked-over food.

  Reed drew a sigh. He was hoping they could hold it together long enough to get through this. They had two days.

  Two very long days.

  chapter

  Three

  Frolic Hastings stood next to his assistant, Molly Flaughtery, as they peered out the window from the east wing of Resurrection Christian Church.

  Molly put her hands to her lips. “Look at all the folk, Reverend. I don’t think the church will hold ’em. I hear the whole town is closing. I guess he’s about the only real hero we’ve ever had. Dear God in heaven, there’s more than we had on Easter.” Her airy Irish accent captured the feel of the moment.

  Frolic could only nod. God, please help me shoulder this responsibility.

  “Reverend, you still have some time before the service. Can I pour ya a cuppa?”

  He smiled. Molly believed a good cuppa could fix anything. “Thanks. I think I’ll just have some quiet time. Would you check to see if they’re here yet?”

  She wrinkled her forehead and squinted at him. “Sure thing. If you don’t mind me sayin’, them being here, after all this time, well, that’ll surely put the flint in the tinder box.”

  The woman had a phrase for everything. Just one more reason he was so thankful for her.

  Frolic rifled through the program and the Scripture readings one last time then settled into his favorite chair. From the dark leather wingback he could see out the window to the continuing flow of his fellow townspeople.

  Oh, Sam, how this town will miss you.

  An ache pierced him. He’d said those same words to Sam less than two weeks ago. The last time they were together. They’d talked for almost three hours that night at Colfax County Memorial.

  Frolic closed his eyes…and remembered….

  Sam lay in his hospital bed under a standard white sheet, his head propped halfway up and his knees bent. Machines beeped and gurgled on both sides, and tubes ran around and into him like some unfinished cobweb. A small translucent green tube fed oxygen to his nostrils.

  Frolic wanted Sam to leave this world with his mind and heart filled with the wonderful memories of a life lived so richly for others. He wanted to see Sam smile and relive the happy times that marked his life. He pulled the stiff-backed chair up alongside Sam’s bed and leaned in close to his dear friend. “Sam, tell me about the best moments, the things that come back easily to you now and bring you happiness. It’s been an incredible life. Tell me what’s on your heart.”

  Sam opened his eyes, and Frolic could swear he saw a hint of eternity in them.

  “God is so good.” Sam managed the short sentence then breathed deep from the air tube.

  Frolic could sense he wasn’t in pain, but the heavy medication for a failing heart made it hard for him to keep a clear line of thought. So as they talked and told old stories, Frolic filled in the gaps.

  He relished every moment.

  This may well be the last time he would see Sam alive. Sam knew it too, although neither of them mentioned it. It was a reverent understanding between old friends. “Do you remember what you thought when you first laid eyes on this town?”

  Energy seemed to fill Sam, and he pushed with his elbows to sit up a little straighter. “Sure can. I was just a sophomore in high school when my folks decided to move here. I think I yelled, ‘This is the sticks,’ when we drove in.”

  They both laughed—Sam through coughing and wheezing. He calmed his breathing and continued. “Dad worked hard to help us get along…repairing grain threshers. ’Bout worked himself to death during harvest. He had time off in winter…he and Mom never got used to the winters…it was hard on his asthma.”

  Frolic pressed his hands together, anguishing as he watched Sam struggle to create short, choppy sentences. This dear man had always been so articulate, a master storyteller. Yet despite the struggle the tone of his voice still carried the same amazing sense of peace and gracefulness. Frolic poured some water into Sam’s plastic hospital cup, put a straw in it, bent it at an angle and handed it to him. “I can’t remember—how old were you when he died?”

  Sam finished a long sip and took another deep draw on the oxygen. “Seventeen, just starting my senior year at Harvest High. Mom never got over losing him…every shop and sidewalk reminded her of him. I’ve never seen two people more in love…I guess that’s why she finally moved away. I can’t blame her, Frolly…some people criticized her for leaving and moving back East to be with her sister. But they’re wrong…it was the best thing she could’ve done.”

  “I can’t believe you moved into that little room above Bob Poole’s old
garage. How did you ever keep warm?”

  “Back then, I lived pretty much my whole day…between Dickersons’ and the bowling alley. I’d get to my job at the shoe store at 8:00 a.m. and get warm…I’d work until 5:00 p.m. then go grab something to eat at the bowling alley.” He took another pull on the oxygen and waited a bit. “I’d hang out there until 10:00 p.m. some days. I was only at the little room long enough to shower, sleep, and do my devotions…. Still, I like to have froze some nights.”

  “Old man Poole never turned the heat on for you?”

  Sam leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye. “Frolly, that was with the heat on.” Sam laughed hard, which made him grab his chest and cough. The nurse came in and told them both to go easy. That only brought more laughter.

  When they calmed down, Sam got a faraway look in his eyes. “It was so lonely after Mom left…and it about killed me. Would have driven me from Harvest” —he met Frolic’s eyes and smiled—“had it not been for that one, sweet April morning.”

  Frolic inched forward in his seat, hanging on every familiar word.

  Sam looked ahead to where the ceiling met the wall, as if looking to a horizon at sunrise. “She was a vision, Frolly, a true vision. This little Lori Evans comes prancing into Dickersons’ looking for some kitten heels—they’d just come into fashion, as I remember.” He took his time, borrowing energy from the oxygen. “She’s eyeing a new pair on the shelf, and the sun is dancing off her skin like it was delighted just to touch her…. Of course, I’d seen her before in school, but you know how there is that moment in a girl’s life…when one day she’s a plain ol’ tomboy in jeans and a ponytail, and the next she’s turned into a woman, almost like she doesn’t know it?…Well, it was like that. That day in Dickersons’…she was a woman, all right.”

  Sam picked up a Kleenex and wiped his nose and mouth. He adjusted the oxygen back in place and sat up a little straighter. His bright eyes and joyful smile bore testimony to his delight in telling the story.

  “We fell in love as fast as two people ever could. Don’t have any idea what she ever saw in me, but there was plenty to see in her. Dear Lord, Frolly, she was beautiful. She was smart, happy, and I loved her so.” Tears welled up in his eyes.