Cathryn Parry - The Long Way Home

Sighing, Natalie picked her way over the sidewalk, still littered with sand and pebbles after a late winter storm. Outside the chapel, a winter-deadened lawn was ringed by a garden beginning to come alive. For now, yellow forsythia sparked open and lilac bushes budded with purple shoots. Later, the roses of June and the tall, spiked perennial flowers of July would join them.

When she entered through the side door, Natalie recognized Maureen Cole immediately. A year older than Natalie, she looked every bit the prom queen and student council president she’d been in high school.

Maureen was curvy, blonde and authoritative—in a good way Natalie admired but would never be at heart. Her booming voice carried across the church to a volume that even Natalie, hearing-impaired as she was, could clearly process.

“Over there! You stand over there and I’ll walk around you.” Maureen tugged on a measuring tape, directing her mother. Nearby was a baby carriage with netting thrown over it, though there couldn’t be many flying insects inside the chilly church.

Rubbing her arms, Natalie stood back and watched the women chatter away, their voices lower now as they worked. To pick out the words, Natalie concentrated on Maureen’s lips. Maureen wore bright coral lipstick. Her teeth were straight and perfect; she’d gotten dental work done in the years since Natalie had seen her.

“...red would look nice,” Maureen was saying, “but white is more traditional, and that’s what I prefer.”

But then Maureen turned to the side, and Natalie couldn’t read her lips anymore. She caught only the muted words wedding flowers.

Was Maureen getting married? Natalie glanced from the measuring tape Maureen wielded to the pad of paper she wrote on. Maybe they were planning the placement of floral arrangements for the ceremony.

A pang went through Natalie. Ever since she was a child, she had gazed up at this chapel as her family drove past on a Sunday, looking at the brides and wedding parties, and wondering what it would feel like to marry a man she loved in this fairy-tale place.

But dreams like that didn’t happen for people like her. She needed to be practical. Use her brain, use her legal training, use her knowledge of the town’s past connections and histories and secrets, and maybe she could find a way to be of service to people. Even if she wasn’t the world’s best communicator, like her father said.

“May I help you?” Maureen was standing directly in front of her.

Natalie jumped, snapping out of her reverie. “I’m...sorry.” She cleared her throat, then remembered the binder cradled against her arm. She held it forward, smiling sheepishly at Maureen. “This is for you.”

“Right.” Maureen nodded, sizing her up. “You’re the lawyer Lyndsey sent over with my wedding organizer. Thank you.” With a grudging look, Maureen took the notebook she had left behind at her office and turned away from Natalie, immediately flipping to a page and scribbling furiously.

No one had said this would be easy.

Natalie walked around Maureen, to where she could see her face. “Ah...forgive me for prying. But are you getting married, Maureen?”

Maureen looked up, staring at her. “Do you need to buy a house or something?”

“No...not right now. I’m settled, thanks.” From the corner of her eye, Natalie noticed Maureen’s mom picking the baby up and sniffing at his diaper. The exaggerated grimace on her face told the story. Quickly, Mrs. Cole wheeled the carriage toward the restroom at the rear of the church, leaving Natalie and Maureen alone.

She might as well face the issue head-on.

Smiling, Natalie held out her hand. “Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but I was a year behind you in high school. I’m Natalie Kimball.”

“Kimball?”

The real estate agent gave a sarcastic, unfriendly smile and pointedly neglected to shake her hand.

Natalie wiped her palms against her already damp raincoat. She knew what this treatment was about: her father’s involvement with Maureen’s brother Bruce, and what had happened that last summer he was in town. Part of Natalie was dying to ask about him. She would never do that, though. As far as she knew, Bruce Cole had never come home, not once, and was never likely to again. She remembered how much it had hurt Maureen when he left.

Maureen’s gaze traveled up and down Natalie’s body. She had the curl to her lips of a former “in girl” judging and dismissing an “out girl.” Natalie felt deflated, well aware of every physical flaw she had.

“Nope,” Maureen drawled. “Your name doesn’t ring a bell. I didn’t go to school with any of Asa Kimball’s kids.”

She said “Asa Kimball” as if the words tasted bitter. And then she turned away.

Natalie nodded. She understood why Maureen was acting this way. Indirectly, her father had made Maureen’s life hell. Lawyers in general had made Maureen’s life hell.

Bruce’s life, too.

But Natalie wasn’t that kind of lawyer and never would be. She saw herself as a helper, not an adversary. Her father, and his father before him, and for all she knew, his father before that, had run the family firm in the traditional way, which had, in her opinion, often caused problems. Years of standing on the sidelines, watching and observing, had convinced her she could make a place for herself, that she had a unique talent to contribute.

Natalie may not have been one to speak to people much, but she noticed things about people, and that was important, too. Maybe it was time to take a chance on the new style she envisioned. She had always thought that if given the opportunity, she could make a difference.

Natalie cleared her throat and approached Maureen again. “I know it was a long time ago, but you and I were...friends, actually—at least I thought so—your senior year in high school.”

Maureen’s lips pressed together, as if she was reliving the hell of being a popular girl who was suddenly ostracized by her peers. Natalie had seen it happen firsthand.

Hopefully Maureen would understand that her intentions weren’t harsh. “We had study hall together on Fridays, final period,” Natalie said. “I always looked forward to it. I...drove you to the bus station once in the fall.” Remember?

For a split second, she looked bludgeoned and she abruptly sat on the nearest pew. And Natalie felt guilty. She hadn’t wanted to use that particular memory, but it was the incident Maureen was most likely to recall. Maureen had planned to run away to visit Bruce, who was in his first year as a midshipman at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. Natalie had never forgotten that day for many reasons, the most important of which was that it was the second most daring thing she had ever done.

“You were nice to me,” Maureen finally said, albeit grudgingly. “Not too many people were nice to me that year.”

“At least they talked to you,” Natalie said with a joking tone. “I was always so shy.”

Maureen cocked her head and studied her. “You look pretty.” Her voice was softer, as if she was starting to warm up. “You cut your hair. It flatters you.”

By reflex, Natalie touched her head. “Thanks. I found a really great stylist when I lived in Boston.”

“You lived in Boston?” Maureen actually seemed interested.

“I went to law school there. And then afterward, I had a clerkship.”

Maureen squinted.

“It’s...a job I had, at the Federal courthouse on the waterfront. I clerked for a judge there.”

Maureen smirked. “And now you’re back to work with your father on small-time wills and real estate closings.” Her laughter was unkind, all trace of the former softness now gone.

Natalie smiled gently, refusing to take the bait. “It’s always been my dream to go solo.”