Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 50)

Chapter 18 Part II

Cindy Bradford
Riding home, Patrick put the top down on his Karmann Ghia. “I might have to trade this in when we have a baby.”

Carol tried to hide her excitement since this was the first time Patrick had ever brought up children. Once she had mentioned it, but when she hadn’t heard a response, she was hesitant to push the issue.

“Patrick, do you want children soon?”

“Fine with me.”

“I do love you, Patrick.”

When he killed the car motor at Carol’s house, he leaned over and kissed her gently. Both sat looking at each other and the stars.

“What a nice night,” as he traced her lips and face. They were like two teenagers gazing into each other’s eyes, kissing and exploring each other’s body, almost timidly. For a split second his thoughts went back to another car, but just as quickly he brought himself back to the moment. He pulled Carol as close as he could to feel her warmth.

“Let’s go inside. You are driving me crazy,” he said, breathlessly.

He was peeling off her clothes before they could even get to the bedroom. Her dress settled somewhere on the floor as he hurriedly shed his shirt and pants. It was at least an hour before they caught their breath again. They said nothing for a long time, just laying there in each others’ arms.

“I love you so much, Carol,” he whispered.

“I love you Patrick,” as she snuggled to him.

Within minutes they were both in a deep, peaceful sleep. As always, when Carol awoke, he was gone. She knew that he liked to be back in his house before the sun was up or anyone was out for the morning, which in this part of Maine, at certain times of the year, first light could be 3:00 a.m. She doubted, however, that the lobstermen cared who was sleeping where as they started another day of throwing traps. When she called him at his office at the church, he told her he had been there since six o’clock trying to catch up on the work he missed while he was in Boston.

“How are you this morning, sleepyhead?”

“I’m great. Last night was so special, Patrick.”

“Yes, it was for me also.”

What he hadn’t told her was that he hadn’t slept at all. He had paced and thought and hit the wall, literally. Then finally he had showered, dressed and driven to the church.

“I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to say good morning. I’ll be so glad when we can wake up together every morning.”

“I’ll still probably be long gone before you open your sleepy eyes.”

“No Patrick, I want to get up with you to have coffee before you leave. I like to paint early anyway. But nights like the last one make me really sleep well, so if that continues, you may be right.”

“I don’t plan for nights like that to stop just because we get married.”

“Good, but then you had best plan on making your own coffee.”

“It’ll be well worth it. I need to run by the hospital about four this afternoon to see Mrs. Winters. I just talked to her daughter and told her I would visit. I’ll see you soon after that.”

For most of the morning Carol worked on the wedding list and organized the activities she needed to accomplish over the next few weeks. She showered and dressed for a quick trip to the grocery store so she could start dinner before Patrick arrived. Around five o’clock she heard his car and then saw him at the door. “Hi. I was about to put these upstairs in the studio; do you want to see them first?”

“Are those the pictures with the story?”

Carol began gently pulling the photos out of the portfolio one at a time. This is Emily. She’s very attractive, don’t you think?”

They looked at several of her and then the missionaries from Mexico.

“Bless their hearts. They haven’t seen make-up in years.”

“I believe you,” Patrick smiled.

“This is Ann. She is beautiful without make-up. I found her to have inward beauty as well. I think I told you the Reverend Mother wouldn’t allow me to take a direct shot.

He knew immediately that the photo was of Sue. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the photo. “What a waste,” he commented.

When he kept looking at the next photos of her, Carol teased: “Do you miss looking at nuns?”

Patrick managed a smile; “Do you think she is ever happy?”

“I asked her that myself.”

“She said she had grown peaceful there and that if peacefulness and happiness were related, then yes. She told me she only gets sad when she thinks about not watching her daughter grow up.”

When he had seen all of the photographs, Patrick said, “This is truly remarkable work. You have captured the essence of each of these women so beautifully.”

“I hope so. I sent each of them two photos and they all wrote me back. I have saved the letters. They are as touching as the women themselves. I’ll be right back; I’m just going to run these up to my studio. Will you pour each of us a glass of wine, please Patrick?”

Upon her return he handed her a glass and kissed her lightly. “What did you do today?”

After describing her morning, she added, “I talked to the contractor today and the carpenters are coming tomorrow. He assures me that all the renovations will be complete no later than August 10. That will only give us ten days until the wedding. I think we are cutting it close, but it would be so nice to have it all finished before you move in. Besides if we wait until after the honeymoon, he said he would be really busy, getting several projects dried in before winter.”

“That should give them and us enough time, hopefully,” as he opened the back door leading out onto the yard.

“I’m just worried about them making a mess and hurting my flowers. They are so beautiful, and Fredrico and Marc would never forgive me if I let the flowers get crushed.”

“You will need to remind them because you know those carpenters won’t be thinking about that when they start hauling wood. Did you pick up the final plans from the architect?”

“Yes. They’re right here.”

Patrick studied them. He knew the house was perfect for her right now and that she was doing the expansion to make him feel like it was his house too. He really needed the study and by extending the sunroom, he would have a place to put his exercise equipment. Even so, he had stressed to the architect that care must given to keeping the character of a sea cottage.

“I’m so happy that we will be able to add the deck over the sunroom. We’ll enjoy that. It gives us a much better view of the water,” Carol said, sipping her wine, “this is good wine, don’t you think? I’m getting better about making selections.”

“Yes, I noticed it is Italian.”

“For you, Patrico,” she teased.

“I wonder what Carmella will do to your name,” he laughed.

“I guess I will be Carolita or something along that order.” They both chuckled.

“That roast smells good.”

“I’ve never been much of a cook; I’ve contacted every woman in the church, neighborhood and my past for their recipes and help. I’m really trying. Do you want to sit out here for awhile and look at the yard before the demolition derby starts?”

“Yes, the weather is wonderful. I hope it doesn’t rain for awhile.”

“Oh, Patrick, I hadn’t even thought about that. Now that gives me something else to worry about.”

“Don’t fret. Everything will be just fine.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

The thunder woke her and then she heard rain hitting the window. She picked up the phone to call Patrick. It was midnight, but she didn’t care. When he answered he was laughing.

“I knew that was going to be you.”

“You told me not to worry, and I told you I trusted you.”

“Just a minor glitch; I haven’t said my prayers tonight.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No. I was reading. Are you disappointed?” he asked laughingly.

“Yes, I was hoping to wake you. Now say your prayers and go to sleep.”

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 49)

Chapter 18 Part I

Cindy Bradford
The phone was ringing when Patrick ran into the house. It was Carmella.

“Patrico, I have been trying to call you since Friday. We have two new grandbabies,” Carmella gushed.

“Two?”

“Yes, can you believe it? Elisabette had twins again, a boy and a girl. And this was just as big a surprise as Alex and Alexia.”

“Congratulations, to you all. Are mother and babies doing well?”

“Yes, they are coming home tomorrow.”

“What did they name them?”

“Penelope and Paulo.”

“I like both names. You are getting the house full of grandchildren, just like you wanted.”

“Yes, Patrico, it is quite noisy when they arrive,” she laughed.

“Carmella, I was just about to call you. I was just getting in from Boston.”

“How is everyone?” she asked.

“Mom passed away on Wednesday. Although she had not been well, this was somewhat unexpected.”

“Patrico, I am so sorry. Why did you not call me? I would have come for the funeral.”

“That is exactly why I didn’t call, Carmella. I knew Elisabette was due any day. You needed to be there, and I knew you would feel like you should fly here. It would have been too much to ask.”

“How is your father?”

“He’s not handling this very well. It was hard to leave him, but I had to get back here. One of my sisters is with him. I’m not sure whether he will go home with her or what. We’ll just have to wait to see. He’s still a young man, only sixty, so I hope he will keep the house and try to stay busy. How’s Stefano?”

“He is fine, handing out cigars, wouldn’t you know?”

“Carmella, tonight I’m surprising Carol with a special honeymoon package to Vienna.”

“How exciting, love. Will she really be surprised or do you think she knows?”

“I don’t think she has any idea. We’ve talked about several places in the Caribbean, but never Europe. She has mentioned wanting to see Vienna any number of times so this is the perfect opportunity.”

“Then Patrico, you two must fly to Florence or Rome and spend time at the manor!”

“I know Carol would love that, but I’ll have to see if I could change our return flight and also if I can be away several more days. I’ll work on that, but are you sure? I know you’re really busy.”

“I am never too busy for you, my love.”

“But you and Stefano are still coming to the wedding, aren’t you?”

“We would not think of missing it.”

“I would like for the two of you to sit up front with my dad.”

“That would be an honor, Patrico.”

When he hung up the phone, Patrick knew he would have to hurry to get ready in order to pick Carol up on time. Besides, he didn’t want any spare time to think. He arrived at her door with a minute to spare.

“You look beautiful! I’ve never seen that dress.”

“I bought this in New York to surprise you sometime. I just didn’t know it would be this soon. You don’t look too shabby either.”

They were seated promptly at a corner table, overlooking the water.

“This is nice, Patrick. I never dreamed we would be doing this tonight.”

Although he had planned to wait until after dinner to surprise her, as usual, his excitement wouldn’t hold. He pulled out an embossed white and gold envelope and handed it to her.

“After he brings our champagne, you can open it,” he said, smiling.

“What is it? You hand it to me and then make me wait. How mean!” she teased.

The waiter brought the drinks in special fluted glasses which Patrick had requested when he called for the reservation.

“To us,” he said as he lightly touched her glass. “To a long life, together.”

As soon as they sipped the first taste of the sparkling wine, Carol carefully, but quickly opened the envelope and inside the card read: Vienna for Two. Slowly she read the highlights for their honeymoon.

“I can’t believe you did this. When did you have time?”

“Just a little side stop in Boston, that’s all.”

“So that’s why you needed extra time. Oh! I am so excited. I have wanted to see Vienna for so long.”

“Michelle at the Travel Service said she would try to reserve terrific seats for us at the opera. She said that since you speak French you might understand some of it. Me? Well, I’ll be lost, but I will enjoy it, nevertheless. Afterwards you will finally get your Sacher Torte at the Hotel Sacher next door.”

“This is going to be so wonderful.”

“My only disappointment is that the Vienna Boys Choir doesn’t perform in August, nor does the Spanish Riding School, but I do have a day trip arranged to Baden, and we’ll actually get to see some of the Vienna Woods as well. Then if you like, we can go down the Danube to Krems,” he added enthusiastically.

Finally noticing a pause, the waiter interrupted. “Would you like to order sir, perhaps an appetizer?”

“Give us a few more minutes.” Turning back to Carol, he asked, “Are we having lobster or would you rather have something else?”

She knew Patrick never tired of lobster and would eat it every day if he thought he could afford it.

“I think I’ll have the filet of sole.”

“The two pound lobster for me, Sir. And, could I see your wine list, please?”

“My pleasure. I will get the sommelier.”

“Patrick, have I told you today how much I love you?”

“No, but if you don’t, then tell me quickly so I can get a refund on this honeymoon,” he teased.

“I don’t think I told you that Fredrico and Marc want to do all the decorating and food for the reception as a wedding gift to us.”

“That’s great, a little scary, but great,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t recognize the food you will tell me what I am eating, right?”

“I tried to impress upon them the need for toning it down a little.”

“Then no rainbow flags or banners, I hope.”

“Patrick, you’re terrible,” but she laughed. “They are over the top sometimes, but I love them dearly.”

“You don’t need to worry. I’ll like them because you do. I’m really rather anxious to meet them. Oh, I almost forgot; Carmella called. She and Stefano are grandparents twice over again.”

“Twins, again?”

“Yes. A boy and a girl, again.”

“And no one even expected it?”

“No one. Carmella said the doctor was just as surprised as anyone and a little embarrassed. Needless to say she is on cloud nine, talking a mile a minute. She and Stefano are still coming to the wedding, though.”

“That is wonderful news on both counts. I know I’m going to love them. They have been so sweet to you.”

“I told Carmella what I was about tonight and she immediately invited us there after Vienna,” he said with a little hesitation, “but I told her I didn’t know if that was possible.”

“Oh Patrick, can you work that out?”

“You mean you would want to do that?” he asked, feeling a sense of relief.

“Certainly. You have talked so much about their place. I really haven’t seen as much of Tuscany and Umbria as I would like. Do you really think we can?”

“I can call the travel agent in the morning to see if our tickets home can be rescheduled. I’m sure she can change it, especially if I add a flight between Vienna and Florence. Would you like to fly to Venice instead and spend a couple of nights there and then take the train to their place?”

“Patrick, this gets better by the minute.”

“And longer; I hope I don’t get fired.”

“If you do, we can just stay at Carmella and Stefano’s. It sounds like a dream world anyway.” Pausing, she gushed, “The dinner was delicious.”

“Yes, I rather enjoyed my lobster.”

“I noticed,” she smiled.

“It’s messy, there’s no way to eat a whole lobster gracefully, is there?”

“If there is I have never quite been able to master it.”

“Would you like dessert?”

“Would you share something with me?”

“Only if it is chocolate,” he said with a wink. Patrick signaled the waiter and asked about dessert.

“You choose, Carol.

“The Chocolate Eruption will be just fine, knowing that is what he would prefer.”

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 48)

Chapter 17 Part IV

Cindy Bradford
“Well, first the Reverend Mother would not allow me to take any close up facial shots of the nuns. Every photo had to be almost a silhouette. The results were wonderful, but it made me really nervous going in because I was worried that I would not be able to fulfill my assignment for the magazine. Once I finished with the photos, I was so glad that had been a requirement. I would never have done that on my own, and I think it was the turning point of the entire work.

“The convent has a simple, but comfortable building for guests. The surroundings are beautiful and even the main meal provided. But it was so… I don’t know how to explain it.”

She paused, “Empty, is the word, maybe. All of those women certainly didn’t feel that way. Many have been there thirty and some up to forty years and will be there until they die. But to me, the silence was deafening. The stillness and starkness of the place just filled me with utter loneliness. I felt so much for those women. Again, they didn’t complain. It was I who had these feelings, but seeing them rise at five o’clock every morning and meditating, praying and doing manual labor alternately until 8:15 at night just seemed so lonely, so unfulfilling.”

“Many of the women have college degrees and some have held positions of authority, but have given it up to go there. It is their choice; I suppose, their calling, but it is so removed from everything we grow up thinking we will do in our adulthood, unless, I guess, one grows up Catholic. You know more about that, so maybe it is not unusual at all?”

After thinking a minute, Patrick responded, “The tunnel is so narrow that you don’t allow yourself to think about the outside world and traditional expectations, if you grow up thinking that is your calling in life. You block it out, thinking you are being so unselfish and so right about your decision that sometimes you end up hurting yourself or someone else sometimes.”

“Did that happen to you, Patrick?”

“Oh, I thought about it more than you will ever know, but I thought about it as I said with no added dimension. You’ve probably read about the guilt trips the nuns give kids in Catholic school. Well, I think we live with that guilt so much, we sometimes guilt ourselves into choices. But, I guess it is different for everyone. Go ahead; you were talking about the schedule and so forth.”

“I don’t really know, Patrick, I just felt sorry for some of the women, especially one of them, a woman named Ann. They just seemed to be missing so much, the touch of a hand, the warmth of a hug, the pleasure of a tickle, or the peacefulness of knowing you share a special bond with another human being. Maybe, all women don’t need these things, maybe they have so much more and I am the loser, but I just know I couldn’t live that way. If they feel a yearning for more, they didn’t express it to me, except Ann. I think admitting it would have been a sin for many of them, a sin some would have trouble living with.

“Actually, the Reverend Mother didn’t want to participate in this project at all, but she wants to build a school, and Henry promised her a major donation from the magazine if she agreed. I never knew how much, but it must have been substantial.

“I spent the first week there watching the women in their routines and reflecting on these experiences. I watched their body language, their eyes and movements. In the second week, I began to talk with many of them. A few didn’t wish to engage in conversation but three seemed hungry to talk. Remember Patrick, these women are normally not allowed to talk except for forty-five minutes a day during recreation time. You would think they would all be eager for conversation; however, as I said before, I don’t understand their way of life. By the way, there are eighteen nuns living there. They raise their own vegetables and milk a couple of cows from which they make their own cheese. They have a greenhouse and sell their flowers to a local florist to bring in an income for the maintenance of the buildings.

“The nuns, who were willing to talk, taught me so much, especially about sacrifice. One of the women told me that as a little girl she changed her name to Ginger because she wanted to grow up to be a dancer just like Ginger Rogers. She must be terribly unhappy,” Carol laughed, but not in a cheerful tone. “I cannot think of a worse place for her. That would be like an alcoholic working in a distillery. She never told me what changed her mind although I pressed her time and time again. In the middle of the third week I commented to the three women individually, we never talked as a group, that she must have a strong faith to live like this, to give up all worldly and material goods and thoughts. Their responses were as different as each of them. Ginger said certainly it was true that she did have a strong faith, but she also approached it as her service here on earth. She rather danced around the remainder of my questions; the only dancing she does, I might add. Isabella told me that she believed she was destined to live this life, this prayerful existence made her feel whole and totally connected to God.

“It was what Ann told me that I was completely and utterly unprepared for. When I asked her the question, she didn’t say anything for the longest time. It was beginning to make me nervous because I was afraid I had said the wrong thing. Finally, she lifted her gaze, her eyes looked straight at me and then she called me by name. That was the first time I had heard my name, I think, in three weeks.” She said, “Carol, I have told no one, but for some reason I truly believe I can trust you. You cannot use this in your story so you may not even want to hear what I am about to tell you.

“I told her to continue and she reminded me that the Reverend Mother could never know. I asked her why she was telling me and she looked me right in the eyes and said she needed to say it, to share it; she had carried the secret so long, and she said she had thought about it so much and that, for some reason she felt a particular bond with me, an unexplainable, almost friendship, if that were possible, in that setting.”

“Well, hurry up,” Patrick laughed. “This is driving me crazy. It’s like a movie.”

Carol continued. “Here sat a woman in a cloistered convent dressed in a habit, but even with her head covered, I could tell she was beautiful. She had the most defining eyes, an almost lavender color and her skin had a glow that I didn’t see in the other nuns. She said she always tried to work in the vegetable garden so she could at least get some sun on her face, so as not to look pale. Then she looked at me again, and I remember her exact words. She said, ‘You asked me about a strong faith? Perhaps, I see it differently from the other sisters. I do understand faith as the Bible says, as the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, but sometimes I think I confuse faith with love, because Carol, I didn’t come here because I was a strong Catholic girl who wanted to live a godly life. I was not even reared Catholic, I came here because I loved a man who no longer loved me. I came here to run away, not to run to something. I came here because I had his baby and was not strong enough to look at her everyday and see him in her. I came here because he chose to be a priest and if I could be a nun, I would be closer to him in a strange way. I knew that was the only way. I came here because the outside world no longer held anything I wanted. So, if you can say that faith is one’s capacity to love no matter what happens, to give up everything to keep that love alive then Carol, I have faith.

“Then she told me her daughter’s name and that she left her with her sister when she was four days old. Everybody thinks Ann is dead. She said that in many ways she was. That’s it, Patrick. End of story. Now you have to see the best part, the photographs.”

Patrick suddenly felt like he had been slapped by a huge wave and was drowning. Driving, he looked straight ahead so he would not give away his emotions. He thought, “It can’t be. No, it is a coincidence. There is no way Sue would have done that.”

“Well, here is our turn off. We’re almost back,” he said, making small talk and trying to still his racing heart.

“Are you too tired to come in, Patrick?”

“If it’s okay, I think I will go home to unpack and clean up. Then I’ll pick you up. We’re going out to Vincent’s on the Bay tonight, my dear. I have a bit of a surprise.” He was beginning to feel calmer, but his mind was still trying to comprehend what he had just heard.

“I’m glad you told me where we’re going Patrick. I’ll dress differently than planned. That is an elegant place. What is the occasion?”

“You’ll see. I’ll be back in about an hour and a half,” he said as he kissed her cheek.

Driving away he let his memory drift back: Sue if that is you, why didn’t you just stay in Townsend and marry some nice guy… Why did you have to do this to yourself…just because I ran away, you didn’t have to. He hit the steering wheel hard with his fist. “Why?”

As quickly as he asked himself, he stopped. Always the master at suppression, he willed himself to do what he had been doing since he was ten years old, trying to forget and convince himself that that Life has a way of dealing cards that one plays or discards, and once that game is over, it can’t be replayed. “We both made our choices years ago and now we have to go on,” he said out loud, as if to fool himself into believing it.

There was no question that he loved Carol. She had captured his heart, but it wasn’t the first time his heart had been stolen, and the first time is always special. It’s not something a person forgets easily, that time of innocence when one believes there will never be another one as perfect as the first. He knew he wasn’t the only person who had ever felt that way and it made him a little sad.

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 47)

Chapter 17 Part III

Cindy Bradford
“Although I had studied about the Mormons, I certainly gained knowledge from Emily. When she picked me up she explained that she thought it important that I quickly see some of the landmarks of the Latter Day Saints and meet other Mormon women to gain their thoughts, insights and backgrounds. She had the next several days planned for the two of us. We headed straight to the Visitors’ Center at Temple Square, where the life-size murals depicting the story of the church were absolutely beautiful. They lined the walls of a spiral ramp. I wanted to spend more time looking at the art alone, but that first day was an overview, and I knew there would be time later for me to return.

“It was mid-afternoon when we left the Visitors’ Center. I don’t think Emily thought we would be there that long, but there was so much to see and a video on the history of the church. She knew everyone and seemed to enjoy talking with them and introducing me, explaining my photo mission.”

“Emily’s plans for the second day included a walk through ZCMI Mall, which by the way Patrick, is church owned. Actually the church owns a great deal.”

“That’s what I have heard. This is really interesting. Did Henry ever tell you why he chose these three particular religions?”

“I asked him that because I thought it was strange: Baptist, Catholic and Mormon. He said he wanted religions where it was tradition for the woman to be in the background, on the sidelines, in other words, in a submissive role. These religions, he figured, would never allow a woman to be a minister, deacon, etc.”

“Well, he chose well,” Patrick said, laughing.

“Yes, but in the settings where I found them, it didn’t matter. They were simply women serving God, and their role was not an issue. Gender was a moot point. And that is obvious in the story and the photographs. Henry wanted to include some Middle Eastern women but none responded to his inquiries.”

“Okay, that’s interesting. So keep going. I’m intrigued.”

“Remember, we started late because Emily wanted to take me to a special rehearsal of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir which didn’t start until 7:00 p.m. It would have been a really long day for her if we started early in the morning. Did I tell you she has five children?”

“No, but that would be a long day in and of itself!”

“Yes, I agree, but they were really nice kids, perfectly behaved. Her husband is a cardiac surgeon at the LDS Hospital so his schedule is extremely intense, and he’s not able to give her much help with the children. He does, however, set aside as much time as possible to be with each child during the week. She’s probably the only loser of his time, but she handles it well. Remember, it is part of her role.

“Anyway, after the mall, we went to Mormon Handicrafts. I’ve never seen so many beautiful fabrics. Emily wanted me to see the women quilting. It was fascinating. They do very nice work with tiny, tiny stitches. It appears to be a labor of love. Each quilt is sold and the money given to a worthwhile cause. I was very impressed because I saw it as their form of art. Then choir rehearsal was marvelous. The voices were mesmerizing, but more than that, you would not believe the acoustics in the tabernacle. You could, indeed, hear a pin drop. That’s not an exaggeration. I had read that but always thought it to be propaganda. It’s not.

“Every day we saw something new, something that was a part of Emily’s life and her religion. She invited me to one of the Relief Society meetings at her ward, but she’s actually the president over all the Mormon Relief Society groups in the world. In the last year, she has been to fifteen countries to train other women for the Relief Society. She does have help, two women they call counselors. You should see her office. It looks like a plush living room, overlooking Temple Square and the Joseph Smith Memorial Building.”

“What does a Relief Society do?”

“They have weekly meetings dedicated to the improvement of women. Meetings focus on such areas as the cultural arts, literacy, homemaking skills, spiritual development and so on–those kinds of things.

“Finally we took off and drove back to Emily’s childhood area. That was part of the deal with Henry. So for almost a week we looked back in her life. I know it was not easy for her. She said it was cathartic. I got some of my best pictures of her there against that sepia backdrop. That is when I really got the essence of the woman. What an abnormal childhood she had. Can you imagine having a father as a polygamist? She is really grounded, which to me is amazing. Although she says she harbors no real resentment against him and says she has forgiven him, she added that regrettably there is absolutely no love there either. By the way, he is still a polygamist. Her feelings for her mother are more mixed: sympathy, but a total lack of understanding of her mother. She told me she just could not fathom how a woman can do what she has done, but she said she guessed it was ignorance, or gullibility. Her mother was brought up by a polygamist also. It was a cyclical journey, one from which she could not break away. Emily said her mother was not strong enough or smart enough or perhaps she was just content. She never really knew.

“Emily’s life now is 180 degrees different from her childhood. Although there was very little contact with the outside world in the town where she lived as a child, she always thought something was wrong. When she gained an iota of a clue that life was a bit off center, she did everything to find out why. Fortunately a few books portraying different ways of life had somehow found their way to the local library without anyone’s suspicion, and Emily poured over them. She began asking a few questions to whomever she could. She was rebuked more than once, but she finally found a sensitive ear, an old, old, woman who worked at the local post office. Emily asked the right question one day and the old woman saw the look in her eye. She told her, ‘Child, it’s too late for me, but you are young and wise. Be here Thursday afternoon at four o’clock. Can you do that? Are you seriously prepared to leave, never to return?’ Emily told the old woman she was, and apparently the old woman read her well. Another woman, who had left ten years previously and whose mission was to rescue these girls did just that for Emily.”

“Now, Emily is deeply involved in genealogy. Of course, this is what that all Mormons are encouraged to do. The church has probably the best genealogy libraries in the world. Anyway, Emily believes this is especially important to her because of her past. She wants to trace her heritage, to maybe get a glimpse, of why her father was the way he was. She was quick to point out, however, that this would never be an excuse for him because every person is responsible for his or her own actions. She keeps a journal which is one of the church’s recommendations to its members so that her research and collected knowledge can be passed down to her children.

“Patrick, I’m talking way too much. You don’t want to hear about this in such detail. I’ll make the rest of this quick.”

“No, no. I am really enjoying this and learning a lot. Let’s stop though, get a cup of coffee and stretch.”

“That was nice,” Carol said after the two had taken a short break. “Now I can talk for two more hours,” she laughed.

“Good, this is making the trip go faster. Okay, what is next?”

“Remember I told you that each woman was interesting and I learned so much at all the places, but the convent had to be the most memorable, the most touching and the photographs almost a little haunting. The missionaries in Mexico were so generous and selfless and the people so sweet, but the language gap made it so much more difficult and I felt a lot was lost in translation. And of course the conditions were so bad.  But all of the women were so strong. I realized I could never have their strength.”

“Sure you could, if you had to be or wanted to be.”

“No, if you had met those women, they would have made the same impression on you, but the one who made the deepest impression on me was at the cloistered Carmelite convent in Wisconsin.”

“Why?”

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 46)

Chapter 17 Part II

Cindy Bradford
Arriving back at the room after a glass of wine in the bar, Patrick called room service. Like two kids, they sat on the bed eating and watching television. While Patrick was putting the tray outside the door, he laughed loudly, remembering an incident from many years previous.

“What is so funny?” Carol called as she stepped from the shower.

“One time I was at a fancy hotel in France, the only fancy one I ever stayed in, and I called up breakfast room service. I was only in my undershorts, and I stepped out to put the tray by the door. Before I realized it, the door shut and locked. There I was, standing in the hall in my shorts, no key and speaking very little French.”

Holding her robe around her, Carol was shaking with laughter, picturing the scene, “So what did you do?”

“I just stood there looking stupid for what seemed like hours although I know it probably was not more than ten minutes. I thought I might have to go down the steps three floors but I didn’t know what I was going to do when I got to the lobby. Finally, this robust woman, who looked at least eighty years old, came out of her room down the hall. When she turned and saw me she immediately looked frightened. I guess she thought I was a serial rapist who had lost his pants. I was more horrified than she was, but fortunately she knew enough English to know what I said. She laughed until I was afraid she was going to have a heart attack, and then I thought if that happened I certainly wouldn’t be able to explain. She told me she would send a bellman to rescue me. In about five minutes, this very reserved old gentleman came up with a pass key. He was not laughing.”

Carol continued to laugh. “No wonder they call us crazy Americans,” as she crawled into bed and cuddled up next to him. Kissing her, Patrick held her tightly in his arms, until Carol realized that he was fast asleep. Smiling, she turned off the television, still seeing Patrick the priest-in-training standing half naked in the hall of a fancy hotel.

The next morning, Patrick said, “Why did you let me go to sleep?”

“You needed the rest, dear. I know what you were thinking, but there are plenty of nights for that.”

“Now, how did you know what I was thinking?”

“You’re a man.”

Loading the car, Patrick was careful to put the portfolio in the back seat where nothing would be bent or damaged. “Let’s get back to the sticks,” he told Carol.

“I have never heard that expression. I am not sure what that means.”

“That is a hold-over from my two years in East Texas. People who live outside town always say they live in the sticks.”

“Then, I guess it fits,” Carol agreed.

Driving out of Boston, Patrick said, “Now tell me about this portfolio.”

“It is a long story. Are you sure you are interested?”

“I am interested in anything involving you.”

Carol paused, and then began, “Well, a little more than a year before I left New York, Richard had a friend who was editor of People and Places Magazine, and this friend wanted to do a series on Women and Religion. So Richard told him about me, and the editor called and asked if I were interested. He told me he wanted a variety of photos of women from different religions and the role they played. I was really interested, although it meant extensive travel for about two months which would take me away from the city. Looking back, I think that was Richard’s plan, a way to gradually wean me away so he could break it off when I returned, and that is exactly what happened.

“Anyway, I met with Henry and he told me he wanted a photo essay that would include two Baptist missionary women working in a remote area of Mexico, not too far from Guanajuato. He wanted some cloistered Catholic nuns from the God’s Blessing Convent in Laurel, Wisconsin, and a middle-aged Latter Day Saints woman who served a calling as the Relief Society President in Salt Lake City. She was the younger daughter of a polygamist in an off-shoot revised LDS group who had escaped from his clutches when she realized he was going to marry her off at fourteen.

“Henry had the story planned out and said he would send a writer with me or I could take the photos and let him know if I had enough information from talking with the subjects myself to write a short piece about each woman. He wanted to use the two Baptists, at least three nuns and the Mormon lady, and he had already made these contacts. The story was to be titled Women of God. It turned out to be one of the most interesting eye-opening experiences of my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“So, continue,” Patrick prodded.

“My first subjects were two middle-class Baptist school teachers who decided to help the poor in Mexico. They had gone to several remote places on their summer vacations for six years, using their own money and taking children books and clothes and toiletry items. Basically they taught the children about sanitation and hygiene at first and then began teaching some of the children about God, salvation and so forth. After asking their church if they would provide tracts, it wasn’t long before the church was sending money and other donations. The women talked about how much more progress they could make if they could stay throughout the year, instead of just summers, because in terms of much of their work, the missionaries felt as though they were starting over every summer, seeing how much the people regressed when they were gone. Linda, the oldest, was a widow and her one daughter was grown, and Gayle was a divorced mother of a boy in college. They decided to approach their pastor for help in sponsoring them full-time. Very positive and supportive, he gave them a list of other churches and ministers that they could contact. Soon, they had enough pledges to quit their teaching jobs. That was ten years ago. Now they have a school and a small church in this poorest of poorest places you will ever see, no electricity, no running water. These women are happier, they say, than they have ever been. They feel they have a purpose and are changing lives. One of the boys in their school is actually going to go to college on a scholarship provided by the sponsoring churches. I cannot remember which university, but it’s somewhere in Arizona, I think.

“I stayed with them for about a week. I was supposed to stay longer but the conditions were dire at best. I never was much of one who thought I would like to camp out, and although it was not exactly like that, their house was quite primitive. Remember, there was no electricity, no sewer system, and no running water. But I got great photos and a story I was not soon to forget. I often wished for a command of the Spanish language. My French did not exactly come in handy,” Carol laughed.

“My Spanish wasn’t very good, but the women interpreted my conversations with many of the people. Some of the younger ones even spoke some English, compliments of the missionaries, especially Jorge, the young boy going to college. I called Henry and told him I thought I was finished unless he needed to send me back after he saw my work. The women were very interested in my art background and suggested I visit San Miguel de Allende which was only about an hour and a half away. I asked Henry about that, too. He agreed I was ahead of schedule so I could take two to three days. I’m glad I did.

“San Miguel was full of international artists and Americans; some of whom were retired, some just wanting to get away from everything. Of course, they could live there for less money than in the States. The town was a really pretty place, a Spanish colonial type city with a beautiful plaza. The architecture of the old buildings and churches reminded me of Europe. It seemed that almost everyone spoke English. The town itself may be an artist’s haven, but it is surrounded by poverty. Anyway, the artist part was an extra perk that had nothing to do with my assignment.

“After that I flew out of León to Dallas and then on to Salt Lake City, making it quite a long trip. My photo subject, Emily had offered to pick me up and had described the car she would be in and what she would be wearing. It was late when I arrived, but she was waiting right out front of the terminal. An attractive woman, about forty years old, her clothes and new Volvo spoke of money. She dropped me at Hotel Utah, close to Temple Square, with a promise to pick me up at 10:30 the next morning. Have you been to Salt Lake City, Patrick?”

“No, I haven’t. I really don’t know much about it, either. Believe it or not, I haven’t even studied much about the Mormon doctrine.”

Continuing, Carol said, “Am I rambling too much?”

“No, no, this is great,” Patrick said, encouraging her.

Kindle has just started allowing someone who has purchased a Kindle book to lend it to someone else. As a service to my loyal readers, Coyote Smart, Promises Kept and Keeping Faith are all eligible to be lent! So if you have a family member or friend to whom you would like to recommend one of my books, lending them a book is a way to do that.

Per the Kindle rules, you can lend a book for 14 days during which time you won’t have access to it. The borrower can read the book on other devices besides a Kindle (like a PC, Mac or iPad). After the 14 days, the borrower “returns” it to you automatically. You can get all the scoop at Amazon.

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 45)

Chapter 17 Part I

Cindy Bradford
The train was less crowded and quieter on Saturday and Carol was glad of that. The commuters were taking a well deserved respite in the suburbs. Taking a seat by the window, she sat by herself, glancing out at the skyscrapers, the steam rising from the tops of buildings and the lines of traffic as they flew by her sight. Her thoughts turned to Patrick and the tranquility that life in Maine brought.

Patrick was waiting at the station and saw the train come to a stop and he rushed to the exit, noticing immediately that Carol had much more than she could easily carry. She quickly handed her packages and portfolio to the porter who passed them to Patrick. Then grabbing her suitcase and an extra shopping bag, she descended the steps into Patrick’s outstretched arms. He kissed her softly and said, “I missed you so much.”

“Patrick, I don’t want to be without you again,” she said, reaching for one shopping bag and then taking his arm, “I have so much to tell you.”

“Yes, like what is all of this?” he asked, grinning, as he held up the packages and portfolio.

“I can’t wait to show you my dress and also my portfolio, which I picked up at the gallery.”

“Your hair looks nice.”

“I wasn’t sure you would notice.”

“I like it like that, but it also looks nice pulled back. You know what? I just like everything about you!”

“How was everyone when you left?”

“Oh, not too bad. My family has a lot of faith, but that of course won’t keep them from missing Mom. It will, however, sustain all of us until time eases some of the grief. I really don’t know what will happen to Dad. Mary Margaret wants him to go live with her, but I think he is too young for that. Whatever he decides I’ll support. I think her three kids will drive him crazy, but her husband is a nice guy, and he and Dad get along great. They can both watch sports for hours. After a few years of that, Mary Margaret might divorce Ted and leave him with Dad,” Patrick laughed. “If, of course, Catholics in our family ever divorced.”

Patrick hugged Carol and asked, “What kind of restaurant sounds good to you tonight? Would you rather stay downtown or out on the way back home?”

“You know what I would really like, Patrick?”

“What?”

“I would like to go to Quincy Market and walk around, and then have a burger or something really simple.”

“Too much gourmet the last couple of nights, huh?” he teased.

“Yes, I loved it, but that’s enough for awhile. I thought after last night, I might never eat again, but I’m really quite famished now. I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch. But if I eat now, it might ruin our plans for later.”

“Who cares? I’d like to go to Quincy. I haven’t been in years. Let’s grab a snack now and then again right before we head to the room.”

“I would like that, and if it is all the same to you, why don’t we stay the night somewhere close to Quincy. It will probably be dark when we leave.”

“Sounds good to me,” Patrick agreed.

After walking around the market for a few minutes, Carol saw a Chinese fast food place. “I think I’ll have an egg roll to hold me ‘til dinner. You want one?”

“Yeah, I’m a little hungry. Maybe we can find a nice sit down burger place later.”

After the snack they began walking through the little shops. “There is nothing I need, but I love looking at these places,” Carol said.

“You are trying to make a shopper out of me, aren’t you?” Patrick teased. “It won’t work, you know.”

“But I’ll never stop trying,” laughed Carol.

Strolling hand in hand, enjoying the late afternoon, they passed a flower stand, where Patrick bought a bundle of fresh mixed blooms for Carol. “For you, my fair lady.”

“They’re beautiful. I’ll put them in water when we get to the hotel, and hopefully, they will last a couple of days when we get back. I’ll get a packet or two of sugar when we eat. I understand sugar preserves them for a little longer, but I’ve never known for sure.”

Two hours later Patrick said, “If you’re ready to check in, let’s try the Harbor-Ritz Hotel. I think it is the most terrific location for having a glass of wine and watching the boats come and go. We might want a burger in their restaurant or even call up room service. What do you say?”

“That’s great, either way. I know you must be tired from the stress, if nothing else.”

“Seeing you gave me a rush of adrenalin, although tonight I’ll probably crash.”

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 44)

Chapter 16 Part V

Cindy Bradford
It was almost six o’clock when Carol arrived at Fredrico and Marc’s, exhausted but pleased that she had been able to find the perfect dress.

One ring of the doorbell and the door sprang open.

“Carol, my dear Carol. Come in. The drinks are chilling,” Marc half shrieked, hugging her. Fredrico instantly joined them.

“Patrick just called. He got our number from Nancy. He said he would try again in half an hour. I assured him you would be along soon.”

“I forgot last night to tell him where I’d be. Did he sound all right?”

“I don’t know how he usually sounds,” Fredrico said quite animatedly, “but he didn’t appear suicidal or anything, Darling.”

“Freddy, you’re awful. He just lost his mother.”

“I was merely answering your question, love. Now, go sit down and I’ll bring you a chilled glass of the usual. I need to help Marc in the kitchen a few minutes.”

Carol sat down in the tufted Queen Anne chair and waited for what she knew would be Dom Perignon. She felt comfortable as always in their apartment. It had been a refuge when she lived in the city. A cocoon she could crawl into when life wasn’t exactly what she wanted it to be. She looked around at the familiar setting and began to relax.

The phone startled her.

“Would you get that for me darling girl?” Marc called.

Carol reached for the white antique telephone, “Hello.”

“Carol?”

“Oh, Patrick, I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you that I was coming here tonight.”

“That’s okay. I would have just left a message with Nancy as to what time to meet me in Boston, but I wanted to ask you something. Scott called and said he would do the services Sunday for me so I have that covered. I don’t want to leave here very early tomorrow, but if I don’t, it will be really late when we get back. I thought maybe you would rather not have to catch the train really early either. So why don’t I pick you up at about 3:00 p.m. at the station. I checked the train schedule. I think it actually arrives at 3:06 p.m. We’ll have a nice dinner in Boston and I know a quaint little Bed and Breakfast just outside the city on our way home where we can spend the night or if you prefer we can stay in a hotel on the harbor, if there’s a room available.”

“Patrick, that sounds great, either way. But, first, how are you?”

“I’m better now than any time since I arrived. I’m anxious to see you and get back to Maine. I hate to leave Dad, but that has to happen. Joey and Rose Marie will be close, so that helps.”

Another reason Patrick didn’t want to leave early was so he would have time to stop at a travel agency in Boston before going to the train station. His plan was to surprise Carol with a trip to Vienna, Austria, for their honeymoon. Although she had traveled to many European cities, she had somehow missed Vienna and she had mentioned wanting to go there, to see the opera and the Schoenbrunn Castle.

“This will work out well. It will give me time to get my things together in the morning and not have to rush so much. I’m excited to see you, Patrick. I have missed you so much. This is the first time we have been apart like this, you know.”

“I know, and I worry about you in the City.”

“Patrick! I lived here, remember?”

“Yes, but anything can happen. So be careful going back to Nancy’s tonight. Have fun though with your friends Fredrico and Marc. What are you having for dinner?”

“I’m not sure, but it’ll be special I know.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Patrick.”

Fredrico walked in with hors d’oeuvres. Marc followed closely behind with another plate.

“Okay, Darling, I have peppered tuna skewers with wasabi mayonnaise on watercress,” Fredrico answered.

“And, I, my dear,” Marc fluttered, “have southwest tomatillo duck triangles and these are just some roasted almonds with rosemary and fleur de sel to snack on.”

“As always you two out did yourselves. This alone could be dinner.” She tasted a tuna skewer, “mmmm,” as she mouthed the word “perfect.”

As they talked and laughed, catching up on missed times, Marc poured her more champagne and then another glass for himself.

“What are you drinking, Freddy?”

“A gin rickey, my latest obsession.”

Carol laughed, knowing Fredrico was forever changing his drinks and trying something new.

“Would you like one of these?”

“No Freddy,” she said quite emphatically, “are you trying to kill me? I think I will just drink my champagne for now. This tuna is delicious and the duck, yummy.”

“Darling, we have a proposition for you.”

“Uh…oh, this could be scary,” she said, laughing.

“Marc and I want to come early to Maine and do all the decorations for the wedding and the food and decorations for the reception as our present to you and Patrick.”

Stunned, but not really surprised, because these guys had always been so good to her, Carol listened to their plan, knowing they would do a wonderful job although many of the guests might not know what they were eating. “That is so sweet of you two, but that is too much to ask.”

“You are not asking, we are telling you.” Before she could say more he continued, “Good, then it’s decided. We will be there two days early. Is there a good place to buy flowers close? Oooh, this is going to be so much fun.” He clapped his hands together.

“I think I know just the place for flowers in Hidden Harbor, but I’ll go over next week to be sure. If you insist, we will be honored and forever grateful to you, but that is a big undertaking.”

“We are up to it, Darling.”

“Okay then. You can stay with me. I’m so excited. You two are such good friends. I love you,” she said, tearing up.

“Now stop that and have some more champagne while I get dinner on the table.”

Carol looked at the dinner and thought it looked truly delightful: baked snapper with potatoes, oregano with white wine, green beans with Dijon mustard and caramelized shallots, and an apple, onion and walnut salad with cider dressing.

Marc poured a Pouilly-Fuisse′.

When they had finished, he said, “Let’s go on the veranda and visit a bit before we have the Black Forrest Boule-de-Neige.”

“Marc, I am stuffed. I don’t know where I would put cake. I won’t be able to get in my wedding dress, if I keep eating like this.”

“Let’s have a little coffee. You must taste a small piece. It is a new recipe with kirsch in the cake and also in the whipping cream; I made it yesterday because the cake part has to sit overnight.”

“Tell us about your dress,” Fredrico pressed.

“I bought it today.”

“Let’s see. You have it with you?”

“That’s bad luck, but I’ll tell you about it. It is really quite simple, an antique white, silk jersey, strapless, mermaid sheath. There are hundreds of the same fabric gardenias appliquéd down the back and a chapel length train. I also selected the matching short jacket beaded with mother of pearl. It has leg o’mutton sleeves.”

“It sounds splendid. You will be the stunning one. I am already getting giddy about this wedding,” added Marc. “May we have carte blanche with our choices of food for the reception or do you want to choose?”

Smiling, Carol said, “Of course, you can do as you like. I trust you completely. Just remember these are not New Yorkers or very fancy people.”

“They will be when we finish,” Marc giggled.

Thinking it first to herself, she then said, “This could be interesting.”

“Now, let’s eat cake!” Marc brought out a snowball of a cake decorated with candied violet petals.

“You two amaze me. Where do you get these ideas?”

“We are just naturals, Darling. At least he is,” Fredrico said smiling at Marc. “And he is handsome as well as talented; what more could a man want?”

“Mmmm, this cake is sinful,” Carol gushed.

“Good, I am pleased you like it,” replied Marc.

Carol asked, “Marc how is Renaissance?” Carol loved to walk around in his antique store, always amazed at the unique selections, items from all over the world, usually very, very expensive, but one of a kind.

“It is wonderful. I just received the most ornate and elegant armoire from Nice. I have a client in mind. She only wants the best and she is supposed to come to the city from her weekend home in the Hamptons later this week.”

“If you have time, on the way to the wedding, you should stop at some of the small shops along the way. You might be surprised with some of the finds. I bought an Eastlake chair recently when I visited Camden. I thought it was a steal, especially since I rarely see them anymore. The shop itself was charming.”

“That trip we’ll only be thinking of one thing…wedding bells.”

“My turn, Markie,” Fredrico said, cutting in. “Your hair is stunning, Carol Darling. You’ve had it cut since yesterday. Did you see Sergio?”

“Yes, and he sent his love to you two.”

“We have not seen him in a while, but he always makes it to the showings at the gallery. He is quite talented with the scissors and a great fan of all the arts.”

Picking up her empty glass, Carol said, “I absolutely hate to say goodnight. This has been so much fun, but I have to get up early and get everything packed to leave. Marc, may I help clean up?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Then I must get my things.” She stood and walked over to hug each friend.

“We understand. We’re just so glad we had this chance to see you. We’ll keep in touch about the wedding plans.”

“If I can do anything in advance to make it easier for you, please let me know.”

“We’ll take care of everything, but do check on the availability of what flowers you want.”

“Markie, I will go down with Carol and hail a cab while you pick up the dishes.”

“Goodnight, dear,” Marc said, kissing her.

“Carol, don’t forget your portfolio. I’ll carry it. I can’t wait to hear what the lucky groom thinks about your photographs.”

“I’m anxious to show him too,” she mused, as they stepped out of the elevator.

“Goodnight my darling friend,” Fredrico said, giving her his traditional kiss on both cheeks, while the taxi driver waited impatiently.

“Goodnight love, and thanks for everything.” When she got into the taxi; she realized just how tired and full she was. Those guys exhaust me, they are so energetic. “I need to go to 300 East 75^th Street. If I fall asleep, please wake me,” she told the driver, and immediately she dozed off.

It was after 10:30 p.m. when she opened the door and thinking everyone was asleep, she tiptoed down the hall to the room where she was sleeping.

“Well, what did they serve?” Nancy’s voice startled her. “Come on, you didn’t think I could wait until morning to hear about dinner, did you?”

Putting her packages and portfolio down, she squeezed in close to her friend on the couch. “It was quintessential Marc and Fredrico. You’ll feel stuffed just hearing about it!”

≈≈≈

The next morning there was just time enough time for Nancy and Carol to visit over a cup of coffee before Nancy and Hannah left for a birthday party and Carol for the train.

“Nest time, I’m sweeping wif you, Arol.”

“Okay sweetie, next time you can sleep with me. I will even read you a bedtime story. How about that?”

“Yippee, when?”

“I am not sure, but hopefully it will not be too long,” though Carol could not even imagine when she would get to do this kind of trip again. In two months she would be married and settled in again to life in rural Maine.

“Thank you for a wonderful time, Nance. I’ll keep in touch about the wedding. Tell Sophia to do your dress superbly.”

“I feel bad having mine made when you’re not, but you know she does such a good job for me. I promise not to look better than the bride though,” she said, teasing Carol.

The truth was that Nancy, who wore more make-up and had her hair styled often, was more attractive than Carol. She liked elegant, stylish clothes while Carol was content with slacks and sweaters. Though different in many of their preferences, the two women were comfortable with their individuality and showed complete understanding of each others’ likes and dislikes.

“I doubt that, but it’s okay because Hannah is going to upstage both of us!”

“You’re probably right.”

As the time approached for each woman to get in a taxi and go their separate directions, they hugged and then Carol hugged Hannah. “You be a sweet girl and mind Mommy about you know what. Remember, real panties for a flower girl,” she prodded, trying to help Nancy who was having a terrible time potty training Hannah and feared Marie was a being a little lax with her. When she complained, Marie casually answered, “She will do it when she gets tired of a wet bottom, Ms. Nancy.”

“Otay Arol, Bye.”

There are only 5 days until Christmas. The pressure is building to get those last few gifts. The stores are crowded and priority shipping makes shopping online more expensive. All is not lost. Here’s a great last minute gift idea.

Did you know that the Kindle version of Coyote Smart, Promises Kept or Keeping Faith can be given as a gift to anyone with an e-mail address? And even better, you do not need a Kindle to send or receive Kindle book gifts, and the recipient can read their gift on a registered Kindle device or any free Kindle reading application (like a Windows computer, a Mac, an iPad, an iPhone, a Blackberry or an Android).

To gift the Kindle books:

1. Browse to the Kindle page for Coyote Smart, Promises Kept or Keeping Faith.

2. Click the “Give as a Gift” button located under the Buy button on Kindle Store product detail pages (see picture to the right).

3. Enter the e-mail address for your gift recipient.

4. Enter an optional gift message.  If you’d like to preview the notification your recipient will receive, click the Preview E-mail button.

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That’s it!  Your gift recipient will be notified of their gift at the e-mail address you provide. And imagine how excited they will be to receive such a unique gift.

Merry Christmas!

Keeping Faith by Cindy Bradford (serial 43)

Chapter 16 Part IV

Cindy Bradford
When they arrived at the apartment, Hannah was waiting. “She would not even take a nap,” the housekeeper said. “She is so excited that she is getting a ‘birfday pwesent!” Marie, who had worked for Nancy since before Hannah was born, was a short, round Puerto Rican woman about fifty years old who talked fast with a strong accent. It was obvious that she loved Hannah.

It will be a miracle if Hannah ever learns correct pronunciation, Carol thought.

Because Marie was so dependable, Nancy never worried about going places and leaving Hannah with her.

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “It sure smells good in here, Marie. What are you cooking?”

Marie answered, referring to her boss as she always did, “Ms. Nancy, it’s your favorite: Roasted New York Strip loin with adobe rub, roasted potatoes with rosemary, green beans with julienne carrots and ham. I told Mr. David what I was cooking and he said he would pick up the wine.”

“Arol, Arol, is that mine?”

“Yes, sweetie.” There was no time to wrap the stuffed animal, and Carol was not sure how she would have disguised it anyway so she was actually relieved Hannah had seen its head sticking out of the huge sack. Pushing it toward her, she said, “Happy birthday, little angel.”

“I wove it!” Hannah fell onto it on the floor and gave it a big hug.

“We’ll show her the dress and shoes later. I’m not sure she’d be impressed right now,” Nancy said, making her way over to the wet bar and asking, “How about a martini?”

“That sounds wonderful. I don’t remember the last one.”

“Straight up and dirty?”

“You have a good memory.” Carol sat on the long white tapestry couch and took off her shoes, wriggling her tired toes.

“That’s not something I could forget. Remember when we first learned to drink them?” Nancy laughed.

“Yes, but I would rather not,” Carol said. “I wasn’t a pretty sight that next day.”

“We are a little more mature now, I hope.”

“So do I. That would kill me now.”

Hannah had fallen asleep on “Mr. Wong Neck” as she had already named him, a name Nancy was sure would change at least twenty times.

“That is what I was afraid of, Ms. Nancy. I tried to get her to take a nap.”

“That’s all right Marie; we can have our drinks quietly.”

“Everything is ready and the table is set. Would you like for me to stay and serve?”

“No, no Marie. Carol is family. I will handle it from here.” Nancy knew Marie had her daughter, grandson and mother-in-law at her house, plus a less than energetic husband, so she always tried to let her leave as early as possible. Though Marie never complained except to say there were a lot of people in a small, cramped space, Nancy knew she probably had to clean and cook when she arrived home. Some days she would suggest to Marie to make extra food and take it home, especially if it were something she could carry easily on the subway. Marie, who had worked hard all her life, reminded Nancy often that no matter how difficult her life, she was glad to be in the United States. Often she would say, “My family happy here. Good people. Muy bueno, Senora.”

By the time they had their second martini, their conversation had drifted to the wedding and Patrick.

“So, tell me more about this hubby to be.”

“Oh Nancy, he’s wonderful, though I admit a little complex.”

“Explain.”

“I’m not sure I can. He’s the most thoughtful, loving man I have ever known, but sometimes he acts…I don’t know…removed, distant, and perhaps absorbed in another life that I’m not in.”

“Well, that’s not good. Have you talked about it?”

“I tried, but it just seems to make things worse. He goes further into a shell. It’s always…” She paused, a little embarrassed. “He gets that way sometimes after we have had the most passionate love making.”

“That’s strange. I didn’t think men even thought after sex!”

Carol laughed, feeling a little guilty for bringing up the subject. “Anyway, that’s one minor, tiny flaw,” she said, trying not to let her apprehension show.

“Speaking of, I think I’d better try to call him before I drink any more martinis.”

Patrick answered on the first ring, surprised to hear Carol’s voice.

“How are you dear?” Carol asked.

“I’m better. It’s good to see everyone though I dread tomorrow. I’ll be glad when the funeral is over. We are having the mass at 10:00 in the morning and a small service at the graveside. The wake is tonight. There will be a lot of people, I’m sure.”

“How is your dad?”

“He’s better, but not great. He is really taking this hard. I think it was just so quick. He knew Mom was really sick, but I just don’t think he ever dreamed that she would die this soon. My sister Margaret is having a difficult time, too. Well, everyone is, but she was probably Mom’s favorite because she was her namesake, the oldest girl, and they have always been close. There are little kids everywhere. I don’t even remember all their names. I told my brothers that these Irish Catholics need to slow down or we’re going to have another population explosion. I thought most professional people, even Catholics, used contraceptives now, but apparently not in this family.”

Carol laughed, glad that he was able to have a sense of humor during a time she knew was difficult for him.

“Carol, I hope you are having a good time.”

“Yes, Patrick, I am but I miss you. I even told Nancy that I was ready to get back to Maine. I wanted to hear your voice, but I won’t keep you on the phone.”

“I’m glad, Carol. I miss you. I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye, I love you.”

“I love you, Patrick.”

After sharing two bottles of wine over dinner, Carol yawned. “I think I’ll excuse myself.”

“I think I am ready, too. Shopping is hard on us. See you in the morning,” Nancy added.

Turning to David, Carol said, “Your wine choices were splendid.”

“Thanks. They are some of the new Super Tuscans. I think they paired well, don’t you?”

“I think they were wonderful,” Carol said sleepily. “I have not had this much to drink in awhile. Goodnight all.”

The next morning, Carol woke at 9:00 to the smell of cranberry muffins and coffee. She pulled on her robe and hastily went into the kitchen, regretting she had slept so late.

“Good Morning, Ms. Carol. You must have slept well.”

“I did, Marie,” Carol responded, “I’m usually up by 6:30. I guess the wine did the trick. Your dinner was delicious and I don’t remember sleeping as well in years.”

“Thank you. I have had a time keeping Hannah from waking you.”

About that time Hannah came bounding into the kitchen dragging the giraffe that was a foot taller than the little girl. “Hi Arol, wanna pway?”

“Sure, just let me have a little coffee, first.”

“What are your plans today?” Nancy asked, as she walked into the breakfast room dressed in a beautiful cherry silk suit, with her make-up on and every hair in place.

Carol, still in her satin robe, looked up. “I feel terrible for being so lazy.”

“I’m just glad you rested. Now quit worrying.” She reached to squeeze Carol’s hand.

Carol sighed, “I wish I had called Sergio before I came. I would love to get my hair cut, but I know he’s been booked for months. Do you think I dare call?”

“Carol, he will be so glad to see you, he’ll miss his tofu lunch for you.”

Carol laughed and reached for the phone.

Nancy grabbed the receiver, “I’ll call for you. If there is a choice, what time will be good for you?”

“It doesn’t really matter. I want to order wedding invitations at Bloomberg’s. If I could find a dress for the wedding, I would be delighted. If not, I’ll have to go to Portland soon. I’m just not sure I have enough time today to really shop since I am getting such a late start so I’ll take an appointment anytime.”

“I can’t believe you aren’t having something made at Goldstein’s.”

“I know Nance, but I really want something simple, since the wedding is going to be small and the reception will be outside. Plus, most of the people there are frugal, simple, and hardworking. I don’t want to come across as a snob from the city. And, Patrick would not be comfortable with my being too fancy.”

“Okay it’s your wedding, but I can probably get Sophia to measure you, and you could select the fabric today.”

“Thanks Nance, but I’ll find something.”

Just as Nancy had predicted, Sergio was indeed, delighted, making an appointment for Carol at noon.

“Carol, unless you need me, I think I’ll stay here. Is that okay?”

“Sure, I think I’m going to be scurrying from one place to the next. If I’m running late I’ll just go straight to Fredrico and Marc’s. Otherwise, I’ll be back to freshen up. I’ll call you. If Patrick calls, tell him I’m sorry I forgot to tell him where I was going. Ask him what time I am supposed to be in Boston, in case I miss him tonight. And don’t wait up tonight.”

Nancy smiled. She had heard that for four years at college and although they always told each other that, one waited up for the other anyway.

An hour later, Carol was on her way. The city was bustling, teeming with cars, buses and people scrambling for their place, moving at top speed in the crowded maze. It took her almost thirty minutes to get to the sprawling department store where people were lined up at every register to pay for their purchases. Carol felt oddly out of place. Feeling the pressure of the fast pace, she hurriedly narrowed her invitation selection down to two and completed the information form while the sales clerk impatiently waited.

“I want to show these samples to my fiancé, and I’ll call next week with the one we choose. Will that be okay?”

“Certainly,” the woman nodded. She appeared to be either bored or distracted, Carol wasn’t sure which, but she didn’t have time to contemplate. Placing the ivory-colored textured paper in her purse, she rushed through the crush of shoppers and headed the two blocks to Sergio’s. Whatever made me crazy enough to think I could do all this in one day, she thought.

Carol stepped into the salon and immediately felt calmer. Sergio met her with a glass of champagne and a kiss.

“I’ve missed you Darling,” he said softly.

Carol had forgotten how good she always felt when she had her hair cut. She wasn’t sure if it was the serene atmosphere of the salon, peppered with vanilla candles, a Mozart symphony playing softly and Sergio’s individual attention or the down time. Maybe it was the champagne. Whatever, it didn’t matter, she felt renewed, ready to face the ugly crowds again to look for a wedding dress.