Monday, February 1
Rosemary's arm lay across Lee's torso, the little mound at her middle snuggled into his side as his chest rose and fell with the deep breaths of slumber. She'd awoken nearly half an hour ago, but couldn't bring herself to move from this enchanted spot. Something about the peaceful sleeping presence of her strong husband brought a calm over her like none other. And now, she knew, not only was she safe and protected in his presence, but also in the arms of her Savior. She'd awoken feeling brand new after yesterday's experience. The tears she'd shed along with the heartfelt prayer she'd uttered last night had cleansed every last bit of grime from her heart. The last of the walls she'd erected so long ago, collapsed with the realization that He'd always been there for her, His love steady and strong.
The orange tabby who had been snuggled around her feet, stood up, yawned and stretched before coming to her side and rubbing against her with a small mew.
"Hush now, we don't want to wake your Papa." She whispered as she slowly pulled away from Lee and scooted her feet into her slippers beside the bed.
The kitten leapt off the bed and they descended the stairs together as Rosemary finished tugging on her warm robe and tying the sash about her ever-growing waist. After pouring the hungry kitten a bowl of cream, Rosemary helped herself to the corner of a leftover blueberry muffin. Its softness melted into her mouth and she sought out a place to sit on this fine morning while the coffee percolated. Her eyes wandered to the piano. It had been awhile since she had tickled the ivories. What better way to welcome the morning? She edged onto the piano seat and lightly began to play. For so many years she'd played show tunes, or songs to convey romance, but this morning something all entirely different stirred in her soul, a song for a Savior.
She played a few chords as the words started to fly from her heart:
What a place I've found,
In You alone.
It's a place of rest,
it's a place of beauty.
When I thought myself alone,
Still Your presence surrounded me.
So I will lift my voice and sing,
To the One who made me.
I will lift my voice and sing,
To the One who saved me.
She stopped a few times, changing a key or scribbling a stanza or two on the notepad she kept near the piano, until it all flowed together. Still singing quietly, and lightly pressing the keys to avoid waking Lee, she sang the song. The truth of the words along with the praise and adoration of the words, flowed straight from her heart.
She tapped the last key and slowly opened her eyes to see Lee on the stair landing, standing quietly, almost reverently. She felt the heat creep up her cheeks.
"Rosie, that is the most beautiful song I've ever heard you sing." His voice cracked with authenticity.
She shyly looked down at the keys. "I didn't mean to sing to an audience."
"That's what made it so beautiful- so pure. You were singing to Him."
She nodded and stood up from the piano, pushing the seat back under, still not sure what to think that he'd caught her in such a private moment.
"I hope it didn't embarrass you that I listened in. I woke up to the voice of an angel." He came up behind her and scooped his arms around her, placing a light kiss at the back of her neck. She smiled.
"Yesterday— yesterday was truly one of the most amazing days of my life, Lee. Thank you for… everything. It's amazing how something like that can free my heart, and also break down the walls."
He twirled her around and looked deeply in her eyes, the excitement from his own shining bright. "I can see it. You do look lighter, freer."
She nodded. "I know there is still work to do—"
"Ah, yes— Harriet." He addressed the problem directly.
At the mention of her name suddenly the day didn't seem so bright… She would have to approach Harriet soon. She scowled. If only she didn't have to leave this special spot they had created this weekend, just the two of them in her newfound joy of the Savior.
Lee pushed a strand of hair from her face. "Now, now. You've got a new start, a fresh heart. God will show you what to do."
"I just don't even know where to start. She's a problem I wish I could just snuff out."
"I know. It's like a splinter in your heart. I was thinking… there is someone who might inspire you— Someone who has had to forgive a lot."
"Wait— you are suggesting I forgive her? How can I?" She balled her fists at her side.
"Rosie, to not forgive her is only allowing the wound to fester in you. I'm not saying you need complete reconciliation or anything like that… but perhaps God brought this around at this time so our hearts could be clear and free… for her." He reached over gently rubbed her belly.
She looked down. The mound at her middle was growing every day and just as she wanted the nursery at the new house to be prepared and the clothes laundered and ready for baby, she really ought to clean up the mess that lingered in her heart, even if it just started with a slight step forward. One big step forward.
She nodded. He was right of course.
Lee reached for her hand and held it to his chest. "And that brings me to some good news… I was thinking—" Lee stepped over to the piano and tinkered mindlessly with his pipe in its case, "it's a good thing I'm my own boss."
She arched a brow. "Yes, go on."
"I'm wanting to help you as much as you'll let me with this next step of meeting with Harriet. I do need to go in and get the men set up for the day, but—" he replaced the pipe box and glanced at his pocket watch, "I could be back in two hours."
She gingerly considered his proposition. She would most definitely have to process bits and pieces of this on her own, but having his support so near would help.
"What do you think?" He said, walking towards the kitchen.
"Lee, what a wonderful, considerate man you are." She walked up to him and placed her hands on his chest.
"So it's a deal?" He wrapped her fingers in his.
"It's a deal." She placed a light kiss on his lips.
He returned her kiss with one of his own.
"Good, now I have one more item that might be of service—" a soft step of boots on the porch met their ears. "Ah ha— that should be her now."
"Her?" All the peace drained from Rosemary's face leaving her white and frail. She wasn't ready to face Harriet yet, especially not without Lee. She simply couldn't—
Lee realized the panicked look on her face. "Oh not, her… but someone else… someone who has quite a bit of experience with forgiveness. The 'Queen of Forgiveness' I think we could call her."
Rosemary gave him a quizzical look.
"Trust me." Lee walked over to the door and opened it. There stood Abigail, dressed simply with a basket on her hip. She gave Rosemary a meek look.
"I hope you both like fresh baked croissants. Right out of the oven." She lifted the basket in greeting.
"Do come in." Lee took the basket from her and put it on the table.
Abigail's countenance was tender. "Rosemary, I am sorry for all the trouble you have been through lately. I hope you don't mind, but Lee mentioned your situation—"
Rosemary looked at Lee and he met her eyes guiltily. Oh, she couldn't be too hard on him as he was trying to help.
"I thought it might be a good idea if you and I talked. Maybe something I have been through could be of help to you."
Rosemary warily regarded her. Abigail had been through a lot in the last few years with her husband and son dying in the coal mine disaster, Henry Gowen accusing her husband of treason, her cafe nearly being taken out from under her, not to mention a couple of men who had not quite been forthright with her. If anyone had to forgive seventy times seven, it was Abigail Staton for sure. Yes, perhaps she could be of some assistance.
She gave a slight nod and both Lee and Abigail exhaled slightly in relief.
"I'll just be taking a few of these—" Lee grabbed two croissants along with his mug of coffee. "I'll be back in a jiffy, Love." He pressed a kiss to her head before grabbing his coat and keys and heading out the front door.
Abigail nodded towards the table. "Shall we?"
A few minutes later, both ladies had a small plate with a croissant, pat of butter and spot of jam on it accompanying their cup of coffee. The house had warmed aplenty, thanks to the wood working stove, piping hot coffee, and the kind companion sitting across from her.
Rosemary knew it would be hard to open up to someone, even someone as lovely as Abigail, but if she was wanting to get past this deep wound in her heart, she was going to need all the help she could get.