Not even a glimmer of hope touched his features. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t contact my sister about this.” He passed the baby to her and went to the garage for the cot and sleeping bag.
That night, Pearl slept with a lost boy on her porch and an abandoned baby in her bedroom. Both loved more than she had words to express. She had the feeling she was about to lose them both.
CHAPTER
FORTY
NOVEMBER 14, 1994
After a month of living with Pearl, Harvey adjusted to the fact that his evenings consisted of sitting around chatting with an elderly lady instead of scavenging along the side of the road and cooking fish over a campfire. And mornings were now filled with a hot breakfast and a hot shower instead of a quick dip in an icy stream.
As he crossed the yard to the church, his boots crunched on the hint of frost on the ground. He shook his head; adjusted was a relative term. He had days, maybe a week, before he had to make an exit plan. Pearl kept going on and on about ways for him to get legal custody of Ivy. What she didn’t know—no matter how hard they worked to prove he was a good father to Ivy—was that he had no real claim to her.
He entered the sanctuary. Once a looming mystery, now, after polishing it from top to bottom, felt like an old acquaintance. He ran two fingers over the worn spot on the edge of the back pew, another person paying homage to a place of rest.
In the office, Pastor Thomas stood with a book propped on his arm. As he thumbed through the pages, he hummed under his breath.
Harvey paused a moment, puzzled over the change that had come over him. When they first met, the pastor seemed weary and alone, and then bereft after whatever conflict had risen between him and his wife.
The stability of the people in Thomas’s little circle should have imploded. Instead, if anything, the accident had lifted them.
His wife was around more too. Something about her used to hurt his heart when he looked in her eyes. And though there was still a lingering sadness, it was different. Softer.
Harvey cleared his throat. “Good morning.”
“Hi, Harvey. How are you?”
“Doing okay, sir. Do you have a list for me this week?”
“I do. But before we get to that, why don’t we sit a minute. Did you have a nice weekend?”
Harvey flashed back to taking Ivy for a walk in the wrap while Pearl was at church. It was like old times as he tramped through the woods and over to the rolling hills of an abandoned farm. Fall had come in earnest and a chilly breeze chased the warmth of the sun. “It was a nice weekend. I went for a hike.”
Thomas nodded. “Good few days for it. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you might want to join us for church service? No pressure. It’s not a job requirement. I just wanted you to know we’d enjoy it if you came.”
Harvey shrugged. “Thanks for the invite. I . . . I’ll think about it.” He hated to lie, but he didn’t want to hurt Thomas’s feelings. It wasn’t personal, but church was the last place he belonged.
“All right. Thanks again for all you do around here. The whole church can’t stop talking about it. You polished light back into this place. You took the old and made it new.”
The familiar cramp between his eyebrows pinched, and he opened his mouth to protest.
One corner of Thomas’s mouth twitched up toward his ear. “Go on. Here’s your list. I’m not going to listen to you downplay your success.”
Harvey glanced at the paper before stuffing it in his pocket. It wasn’t as though he did anything noteworthy. He merely tried to work off the nerves that rose from being away from Ivy and the uncertainty of how much longer he could maintain this way of life.
“Oh, and don’t worry about tracking me down at the end of the day. Miriam and I have a class every Monday afternoon, so I’ll be leaving early.”
Harvey left Thomas and made his first stop at the Pantry. He paused for a moment to appreciate the new light fixtures that covered the once-naked bulbs. The bright coat of paint on the walls. The repurposed shelving and peg boards he had painted and cleaned.
Maybe it had become more than a job, working and serving these people.
After lunch with Pearl, he went out to rake. The windy night had left a new coat of leaves on the browning grass. His thoughts wandered as he worked.
Thomas appeared from the basement door, rake in hand. “Need help? Maybe your landscaping skills will rub off on me.”
Harvey nodded, and they worked in silence for several minutes. Harvey puzzled over the pastor emerging from his office. All these weeks the man had kept to that spot. He wasn’t an outdoorsy type. He worked hard in other ways.
“Uh. Are you okay, Harvey?”
Harvey stood still next to his pile of leaves. He darted his eyes sideways and cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah. Just lost in thought.”
“About?”
Harvey busied himself with raking and spoke with his back to Thomas. “I was thinking you’re a different sort of person. I mean . . . well . . . you’ve always been kind to me and given me chances no other person would. You saw past bad first impressions.” He turned to face Thomas, who had ceased raking. “I’ve never thanked you for that. I’m not good with words. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
Thomas ducked his chin and ran his hand through his hair. “You aren’t saying goodbye to me, are you? Because that felt like a goodbye. You’re scaring me a little.”
“No, sir. Not saying goodbye. I’m sorry. I don’t express myself well.” Harvey spun around and went back to raking.
Pastor Thomas was having a hard time clearing his throat behind him. When he spoke there was a thickness to his voice. “Don’t be sorry, and don’t sell yourself short. Your words are fine. More than fine.”
Harvey gripped the rake handle.
Thomas raked beside him. “My dad left my mother and me when I was a kid. For years I thought I did something wrong. That if I had been better, he would have stayed—that love had to be earned. But when I was sixteen, at a summer camp, I learned about the unfailing love of our heavenly Father. For the first time in my life I realized Dad leaving wasn’t my fault. He was the one broken on the inside. God, my true Father, loved me no matter what.
“That’s where ministry began for me. I never wanted anyone to believe they have to look a certain way or play a role to receive love.”
Palms slick on the rake handle, Harvey gave him a quick nod and went back to his task.
Harvey worked his way around the yard. He knew Thomas was still working with him by the steady scratch-swish rhythm of the rake on the leaves behind him. But he was afraid to look at him. Afraid more awkward words would pass between them.
After another half hour, Thomas called out. “Hey, Harvey, I’ve got to run, but would you like to grab coffee or let me buy you lunch this week? I’d like to get to know you better.”
Harvey swallowed and turned to face Thomas, who had a fine sheen of sweat across the bridge of his nose, his dress shirt damp in some places. Not at all ready for that class he was about to go to.
Harvey nodded. “Okay.” Hopefully it was an empty invite. Because he couldn’t tell him or anyone else more about himself without accidentally exposing more holes in his story.