He swallowed, compassion creasing his face. “With you coming up on the anniversary of . . . of losing your son and your husband, do you think those feelings are transferring to Harvey? The worry, and the feeling something’s wrong? Because, Pearl, of course something isn’t right. When we are grieving, we’re painfully aware things are not right, or as they should be, or as we had hoped they’d turn out.”
Pearl pinned her bottom lip between her teeth. Maybe.
“You can trust God to take care of Harvey.”
Trust. She’d been so worried about Harvey’s trust. But had she trusted God to take care of him? No. She’d taken the responsibility on her own shoulders. She tore her gaze away and stared at the jewel-toned glass.
She had trusted God with Marshall and her husband.
Somewhere along the way, she began to believe that she could somehow control things. Do the right things to get the outcomes she thought best. “I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t help but feel like he is about to make a choice.”
“What choice?”
“That’s what I don’t know.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been trying to spend more time with him. Like I should have a long time ago, but I was so consumed with my own problems. He’s opening up to me little by little.” Thomas tilted his head. “Where’s the baby today? With her mother?”
So Harvey hadn’t told Thomas the full story about his sister’s abandonment. “Miriam stopped by. She said she had things to pick up from the Pantry, but I have a sneaking suspicion she wanted an excuse to see Ivy. I thought I’d leave them in peace for a few minutes. It’s been a while since I’ve come to disrupt your day.”
“It was no disruption, and you know it. You probably kept me sane all those months.”
“You did the same for me, Pastor.”
“Funny how things have changed so much in such a short period of time.”
“Yes . . . funny. Hey, do you want to come over while Miriam is there? I could make a fresh pot of coffee, and I made a strudel cake.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Pearl took a sip of coffee, enjoying the sight of Miriam and Thomas cooing over Ivy, who was making big eyes at them and poking out her tongue. It could be a scene from a holiday commercial.
“She smiled!” Miriam pressed a hand to her cheek.
Thomas made a silly face at Ivy, who responded with a giggly coo.
“She’s a doll.” Miriam was giddier by the moment at the baby’s every squeak and squeal.
She angled toward her husband. “Thom, what did the church board ever say about Harvey?”
Pearl bit her lip, leaning into their conversation.
He broke off his nursery rhyme recitation midline. “Actually, nothing. The meeting was overlooked in the excitement over my car accident. Then I asked the head elder about rescheduling, and he said if I approved the man, then they were fine with the hire.”
“Are you serious?”
Thomas grinned from ear to ear and nodded.
“After the hard time they’ve given you about any little thing you wanted to change?”
“Yes, but the church has transformed with all of Harvey’s elbow grease. It was run-down and sad when we got there, but with all his work, it’s been renewed.”
The front door swung open, and Harvey’s heavy trod sounded on the linoleum entryway. “Hi, Miss Pearl. I just stopped by to grab a coffee refill if there’s any left from this morn—”
Harvey froze at the entrance to the living room. His focus flicked from her to Thomas and Miriam and then locked in on the baby in Thomas’s arms. Harvey’s face blanched, and he took two steps back. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to . . . interrupt company. I need to get back to work.”
“Harvey, wait. You’re not—” But he was already gone.
Miriam and Thomas were frozen in place.
“I need to go check on him. Excuse me.” Pearl put on her slippers and headed out the door.
She padded across the lawn toward Harvey’s retreating form. “Harvey, stop. You didn’t need to leave. That’s your home. You belong there as much as I do.”
He spun around with a wildness in his eyes, unrestrained emotion bursting forth. “No, Pearl, it’s not my home. I don’t belong. Just write the weird guy out of the story, and then you’d have a perfect picture of a family. That’s what’s happening, isn’t it?”
“You’re being irrational.”
“No, I’m not. I’m like this pesky spare part left over after the toy is put together, and nobody knows where it goes.”
He was rather articulate when he was riled. “Are you . . . jealous?”
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous? Just because if the Lashleys had found Ivy, the state wouldn’t think for a minute they were unfit to raise her? I love her. And it should be enough. More than I ever had.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve tried telling you over and over again how much you mean to me. How much I want to help. Why can’t I get through to you?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. No one can. I’m impossible.” His voice was flat and matter-of-fact.
“With God all things are possible.”
“Okay, sure.” He rolled his eyes and strode toward the church.
“Harvey—”
He disappeared into the basement without a backward glance.
Something niggled in Pearl’s mind. Why had Harvey said if the Lashleys had found Ivy?
Harvey banged around in the storage closet, chucking items into haphazard piles that were neat stacks when he’d started. Pearl was supposed to be on his side. But he’d stumbled upon a covert operation he wasn’t a part of. Thomas and Miriam sized up Ivy to fit her for a new family, and Pearl sat there pleased as punch with the whole scene. He didn’t need them deciding Ivy’s future any more than he needed government intervention. It was all the same with these people.
It would be fine. He’d almost saved enough, and then he and Ivy could cut out of there—find an old codger-type he could rent from who wouldn’t give a hoot about references or credit as long as the rent got paid. It would work. There were people all over this country who had no legal paperwork.
That’s it. He could get forged paperwork for Ivy in case anyone asked. Then he’d have proof she was his.
He might have felt a little twinge of guilt for planning to write Pearl out of his life when she’d done so much, but it was easy enough to discard, considering her betrayal.
That evening, Pearl pounced the minute he came in the door—like a matador waving a red scarf in front of his face. “Harvey, Miriam and Thomas overheard our argument. What we said was vague enough they don’t know the depth of the situation, but they know something is up with your sister.”
“That’s your fault. You let them close to Ivy. Of course they have questions now.” The edges to his voice were razor sharp, but he was in no temper to censor himself. So what if she kicked him out.
Harvey tightened his fists, his nails biting into his palm. “What’d you chat about? A couple from the church who would be better parents for her than me?”