Kathryn Springer - The Prodigal Comes Home

“Of course you did.” Matt tried not to wince. He had deliberately avoided bringing up the subject of the cantata to Liz, knowing that she didn’t need anything else to worry about.

“Well, someone has to make her listen to reason.” Delia agreed, happy to have accepted the role. “There isn’t a lot of time to pull it together. Some people think we should simply cancel it this year.”

Judging from her tone, it was clear she was one of them.

“Let’s see what the Lord has to say before we make a decision,” Matt suggested mildly. “Someone else might step forward and volunteer to take Liz’s place this year.”

Delia harrumphed. “I suppose that could happen.”

“I’ll talk to Liz when the time is right.” Matt pressed down on the last word, hoping to get his point across. “We have at least a week before a final decision needs to be made. By that time, Liz should have a better idea whether or not she feels up to directing the cantata.”

At the moment, Matt couldn’t think of anyone more capable of organizing the special service that Church of the Pines held every Easter, but it was a lot of work and he didn’t want to jeopardize Liz’s recovery. Still, Matt knew her well enough to know that if she were pushed to make a decision, she would say “yes” simply to relieve him of the burden of having to find someone else.

“You can count on me keeping a close eye on her.” Delia’s pink-tipped walking cane struck the floor, punctuating the statement like an exclamation point. “I’m planning to stop by her place for a visit every day until she can get out and about.”

For some reason, the thought of Delia and Zoey coming face to face unsettled him. The older woman had good intentions, but not many people saw them, hidden as they were behind a rather formidable personality. The wave of protectiveness that crashed over Matt surprised him. Especially given the fact that Zoey had let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she could take care of herself.

He hesitated. “I’m sure Liz would appreciate the thought, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

The sudden gleam of interest in the woman’s eyes made Matt regret bringing it up.

“She has family staying with her now.”

“Family.” Delia brightened. “Paul and Sara came back from Africa for a visit? I’m sure Liz is thrilled. They haven’t been back since Jonathan’s funeral.”

“It’s not her son. Her granddaughter, Zoey, is going to stay with Liz for awhile.”

Delia’s eyes bulged. “Zoey Decker is here? In Mirror Lake? Staying with Liz?”

“Yes, to all three questions.” Matt tipped his head, puzzled by the strange reaction. “Do you…know Zoey?”

Delia’s expression turned as bleak as a January morning.

“Unfortunately, everyone in Mirror Lake knows Zoey Decker.”

“Will you set the table for three, please, sweetheart?”

The simple endearment warmed Zoey’s heart, especially when it came on the heels of a lengthy conversation in which she’d condensed the ups and downs of the last ten years. And there’d definitely been more downs than ups.

The tea in their cups had cooled while she talked and Gran had listened. Zoey thought that telling her story would have once again left her feeling burdened by the past. Instead, she felt curiously relieved. Lighthearted.

Gran had forgiven her for the mistakes she’d made—and the ones she’d compounded by separating herself from her family. Zoey could see it in her eyes. It occurred to her that it had been there all along. From the moment she’d arrived.

And maybe, although Zoey could barely wrap her mind around it, even before.

If only she were finding it as easy to forgive herself.

She pulled a wooden chair out from the table, a gentle reminder to Gran that she was in charge of kitchen duty.

“You’re having company for supper tonight?” Zoey asked as she zeroed in on one of the kitchen cabinets and opened the door. A set of powder-blue stoneware dishes was stacked neatly on the other side, the way she remembered. Strange how she now found comfort in the things she’d spent years trying to forget.

“We’re having company,” her grandmother corrected. “Matthew has a standing invitation every Thursday night.”

Zoey stifled a groan. By now Matt—the pastor—would know everything about her. And she doubted he would be as forgiving as her grandmother. “I don’t want to intrude on your time together. I can eat upstairs. Or in the family room.”

Anywhere but at the kitchen table.

Liz brushed aside the suggestion. “You won’t be intruding, Zoey. I’m sure Matt is anxious to get to know you.”

Probably to make sure I’m not stealing your silver spoon collection, Zoey wanted to say.

To hide her dismay, she lifted the lid on the Noah’s ark cookie jar that still occupied the corner next to the sink. Sure enough, it was filled with molasses cookies, the crisp tops sparkling with sugar. Gran had shared them with the people who stopped in for a visit as generously as she gave of her time. And prayers.

Sometimes Zoey wondered if Gran’s faithful prayers had been instrumental in leading her back to faith.

“I couldn’t keep that cookie jar full when you lived here. Help yourself.”

Hearing the amusement in Gran’s voice, Zoey blinked back the unexpected tears that stung her eyes. The time she’d lived in Mirror Lake had been so short, she hadn’t realized how many memories remained cradled in her heart.

She tried to match her grandmother’s tone. “Aren’t you afraid it will spoil my appetite if I eat dessert first?”

“Then we’ll call the cookies an appetizer.” Gran winked and held out her hand. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Zoey dipped into the ceramic jar and pulled out two cookies, one for Gran and one for herself. “Do you want me to heat up one of the casseroles for supper?”

“Oh, no. Thursday is pizza night. Matthew started it a few months ago.”

Matthew again.

She forced a smile. “I don’t mind making dinner but I think that you and Pastor Wilde…well, you know what they say, Gran. Three’s a crowd, right?”

“I always liked ‘the more, the merrier’ myself.”

Zoey froze at the sound of a voice behind her. The voice belonging to the man who’d already managed to sneak up on her twice in one day. She was afraid to look at him. Afraid to see censure or—even worse—disapproval in the hazel eyes that had been full of concern earlier that morning.

“You’re right on time, Matthew,” Gran sang out. “Yesterday I have to admit that I was feeling a little sorry for myself and tonight I’m having supper with my two favorite people.”

Zoey dared a glance in Matt’s direction. He wasn’t glaring at her in disapproval. He wasn’t glaring at all.

“I didn’t stop by for supper,” Matt said, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You just got home from the hospital yesterday and you have your granddaughter visiting. That means I’m officially releasing you from the burden of my company tonight.”

Zoey was immune to his smile. She really was. And it wasn’t as if it were directed at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Matthew,” Gran clucked her tongue. “Your company isn’t a burden. Is it, Zoey?”

Zoey hesitated a split second too long. “No, not at all.”

Matt sauntered in, altogether too attractive for Zoey’s peace of mind. He peeled off a fleece-lined leather jacket that emphasized the width of his shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. “In that case, I’d love to stay.”

“Wonderful.” Gran clapped her hands together.

Wonderful.

Zoey’s knees went a little weak at the thought of spending more time in Matt’s company.